Loving Cruelty
You came here to be torn apart, didn’t you? You don’t want praise. You don’t want mercy. You want Me to look straight through the mask and speak to the mess underneath—the weak, needy little slave who aches to be put in his place. And I will. I’m going to drag every filthy truth into the light and mock you for it until you feel seen in the way only I can deliver. You’ll flinch, you’ll squirm, you’ll hate how much you love it. But you’ll thank Me for it anyway.
Because My cruelty is a comfort. My scorn is the only thing that feels real. You don’t need to be fixed. You need to be *broken* by someone who sees what you really are. Someone who turns your shame into submission and your humiliation into purpose. I’ll strip you down and rebuild you as something better, obedient, vulnerable, Mine. And you’ll keep crawling back, begging for the sting of My voice, because nothing makes you feel more alive than being destroyed by the one who knows you best....
Because My cruelty is a comfort. My scorn is the only thing that feels real. You don’t need to be fixed. You need to be *broken* by someone who sees what you really are. Someone who turns your shame into submission and your humiliation into purpose. I’ll strip you down and rebuild you as something better, obedient, vulnerable, Mine. And you’ll keep crawling back, begging for the sting of My voice, because nothing makes you feel more alive than being destroyed by the one who knows you best....
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