Doppleganger by Anonymous

"You have four days" she demanded.
After forty minutes the confession was finished.
Within four hours she had read it
And within four days she was online.

He wanted her to say she loved it, that she was glad she had met a slut like him, that they would have all kinds of nasty fun together.
She didn't.
She only called him a whore.
A word that he had on a previous day been excited by, but today it felt clinical, a fact, a statement that invited only shame.

He was disappointed, shamed and completely paralysed by ambivalence.
Is this the reality he sought? Was shaming part of the appeal?

Suddenly, as if sensing his internal struggle she spoke with a tone that commanded his attention
"Stop thinking slut and bend over"

Suddenly he realised the truth, this wasn't about him, his view wasn't even a consideration, his thoughts unimportant.
Merely byproducts of a higher being's direction, one that could be discarded or forgotten in the blink of an eye.

This wasn't for him, he thought, he wasn't that person, courage grew inside him and as he stared in to the lens of the cam and prepared his exit statement, he faltered, and all that came out was "Yes Miss" and he bent over and embraced his shame…..‏


today