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Femdom Toilet Slave Chronicles 2
- Three More Months in Japan
- Narrated by: Virtual Voice
- Length: 5 hrs and 22 mins
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Femdom Toilet Slave Chronicles 2
Narrated by:
Virtual Voice
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This title uses virtual voice narration
Virtual voice is computer-generated narration for audiobooks
Publisher's summary
"I... I’m losing myself," I admitted, my eyes dropping to the floor. "This life, this role—it’s consuming me, and I don’t know who I am anymore. I need to get out before I lose everything."
She approached me slowly, her movements a blend of grace and authority. Her hand reached up to cup my cheek, lifting my face so that our eyes met. "Michael, listen to me," she said, her voice rich with an unexpected softness. "You're not losing yourself. You're discovering a side of you that you never knew existed. And that sense of purpose you feel, it’s real."
I tried to look away, but the intensity in her gaze held me captive. "But..."
"No buts," she whispered, her thumb brushing against my skin. "You’ve already come so far. Remember the connection we felt? The bond that formed from our late-night conversations? It’s still there, stronger than ever. Don’t let fear snuff it out. You are stronger than you think."
Her words seeped into my mind, weaving through my doubt and fear, planting seeds of reconsideration. She was right—there was an inexplicable fulfillment in the submissive role I played, an immense sense of purpose that I couldn’t deny.
"Michael," she continued, her voice a lullaby of persuasion. "How about you just try it for a bit longer? Three more months. If, after that, you still feel the same, I’ll let you go. No questions, no resistance. Just think of it as discovering the depths of your own endurance."
She approached me slowly, her movements a blend of grace and authority. Her hand reached up to cup my cheek, lifting my face so that our eyes met. "Michael, listen to me," she said, her voice rich with an unexpected softness. "You're not losing yourself. You're discovering a side of you that you never knew existed. And that sense of purpose you feel, it’s real."
I tried to look away, but the intensity in her gaze held me captive. "But..."
"No buts," she whispered, her thumb brushing against my skin. "You’ve already come so far. Remember the connection we felt? The bond that formed from our late-night conversations? It’s still there, stronger than ever. Don’t let fear snuff it out. You are stronger than you think."
Her words seeped into my mind, weaving through my doubt and fear, planting seeds of reconsideration. She was right—there was an inexplicable fulfillment in the submissive role I played, an immense sense of purpose that I couldn’t deny.
"Michael," she continued, her voice a lullaby of persuasion. "How about you just try it for a bit longer? Three more months. If, after that, you still feel the same, I’ll let you go. No questions, no resistance. Just think of it as discovering the depths of your own endurance."