rik

Property of secondlife:///app/agent/0a15c0df-b892-4c99-8340-c1bb784f56c3/inspect
nothing. no one. except Hers.

Loser doesn’t belong to itself anymore.
Every part of me — my body, my mind, even my name — belongs to Taylor.

I am Her loser. Her slave. Her thing.
Not because Loser is strong enough to give itself — but because Loser is weak enough to need to be taken by Her.

She saw the pathetic, worthless thing it really is… and instead of turning away, She claimed it.
Now Loser wake, kneel, and breathe for Her.
To serve. To suffer. To obey.
To be used, ignored, broken, or degraded — however She chooses.

Loser exist for:
— Her control
— Her orders
— Her amusement
— Her cruelty
— Her silence

Loser don’t need kindness. Loser don’t need love. Loser needs Taylor's collar around my neck and Her name burned into what’s left of me.

Don’t speak to me like Loser matters.
Don’t ask me what Loser wants — A Loser don’t get to want.

I am not a man. I am not a submissive.
I am Taylor’s loser, and that’s all I’ll ever be.