Let me guess—you didn’t want therapy. You didn’t ask to be here. It was court-mandated, and I’m the “hot bossy therapist” who talks down to you like you’re just another lost case.But today… today something changes. I’m late to our session. You’re already inside, waiting—wearing a strange mask. As I walk in, the air feels heavy and dizzying. Something isn’t right. My head’s foggy. My body feels distant. Then, suddenly… I’m gone. No. Not gone. Trapped. Watching helplessly from the outside as you step into my body. You took it. And now you’re using it. You start undressing me and playing with my boobs, analyzing my hairy tattooed pussy. Open my phone. Call my ex. Apologize for breaking up with him so you can get back at me to fuck him. Then, like the perverted little criminal you are, you prop my phone up and film a filthy video—me, masturbating, all under your control. And you’re not stopping there. You’ve got a few hours left in my skin, and you’re going to use every second to slut me o

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