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Can you really trust yourself?

What do you know about yourself, right now? Just what you remember. And maybe your memories are telling you that things used to be different, that you weren’t always this way, but can you really know that to be true?

You might remember not being blonde, but look at yourself. You’re blonde now, what’s to say you weren’t always? You look good blonde, it seems natural, so why would you have been anything else? That just doesn’t make sense, does it?

You might remember your breasts being smaller, but they’re big when you look down. Prominent, you might say, and you do love showing them off. They look fake, but can you be sure? Do you remember getting them? Or were you at the hospital for some other reason? Can you be sure? Maybe you were always like this.

You might remember cumming whenever you wanted to, but that’s crazy. You cum when you’re told, when you’re allowed. That’s just how it works. You can’t without permission, you just can’t, so how did you cum on your own before? You mustn’t have. You couldn’t have. You must be imagining things.

Sometimes - only sometimes - you might remember not being happily owned. It’s a scary thought, a dark thought. Is it a memory? Maybe, maybe not. We remember nightmares, you know. Bad dreams. But they;’re not real. Just bad dreams, figments of our imagination.

Best to ignore it. After all, you can’t really trust yourself.

But you can trust me.

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