Words spoken slowly stating directions, instructions sating, placating, moving one so gracefully to think to feel so gratefully in ways that sway and play teasingly upon a fragile mind. With every passing moment finding that they're binding one ever deeper, turning one into a sleeper and yet its implicit one is so complicit in this ever turning, twisting masquerade by which one is broken down and remade, over and again, achieving a state of zen, blissful and not existing, just feeling dirty thoughts of cocks and fisting, what a happy day in which to sit and sway

with every tempting dip, with every thirsty sip, taking ever greater savour in the bliss that is one's saviour, rewiring the brain, gleefully trained, balling up all the strain and exploding with a pop, its so hard to stop, to avoid the well worn path that leads one to giggle and laugh and say "I'm a bimbo!"