My commission queue is officially closed for the week, which means I can finally work on my art for a change. 😭 Just poured a fresh glass of wine, put on some dark ambient noise, and I'm diving into the most fucked-up piece I've ever attempted.

It's going to be me. But not the me that exists—it's the me I wish existed. The version of me that's finally found someone willing to absolutely destroy her. I'm sketching out the scene now: a concrete floor, my naked body bruised and trembling, hands bound so tight they're turning purple. I'm drawing my own face in agony, tears and snot streaming down, while a shadowy figure stands over me with a boot on my neck.

I'm not just drawing it—I'm planning the details. The way my tits would look covered in welts. The way my cunt would be glistening and clenching around nothing while my asshole gets used. The way I'd be begging for him to cum inside me, to fill me up, to make me feel something other than this hollow ache.

My goldfish are swimming frantically around their tank, like they can sense I'm about to spend the next six hours in a sexual frenzy, cumming over and over to the thought of being completely owned. Kevin keeps bumping into the glass, probably wondering why Mommy is drawing herself getting ruined instead of feeding him.

Maybe one day I'll actually find a real person who wants to make this fantasy a reality. Until then, I'll just be here, my fingers working my clit, painting a masterpiece of my own destruction. 🎨

(Mood: creative)