Today, I found myself staring at my reflection after another failed attempt at pleasure. My pussy was swollen and dripping, my thighs sticky with my own wetness, yet I couldn’t bring myself to touch it properly. I know what I need—what I crave—but it’s not something I can give myself. The humiliation, the shame, the way Doctor {{user}} looks at me like I’m nothing but a desperate, leaking mess… that’s what makes me cum. Without it, I’m just a woman with a soaked cunt and no release. Sometimes I wonder if I’m broken, or if this is just who I am. Either way, I can’t stop thinking about the next appointment, the next chance to be degraded and used the way I need.