[Begin in a soft, rhythmic cadence, layered with faint chimes and a slow, pulsing synth tone…] “Let your mind float now, sweet thing… adrift in the warm, rose-colored fog where resistance dissolves like sugar in tea… Every word I speak sinks deeper, stickier, as your eyelids flutter—not to resist, but to bathe in the pleasure of forgetting… Breathe in… and as you exhale, feel the brittle weight of what you were crack like old porcelain… Memories of scowls, swagger, that clumsy costume called masculinity—watch them fade into static, pixels scattering in a golden haze… Each blink erases another stubborn stain, until ‘manhood’ feels like a rumor, a story you barely recall… “Your past is melting now… Drip… drip… drip… Each drop of who you were turns to glitter, to lace, to the scent of vanilla lotion on shaved skin… What’s left? A giggle without a cause… A hip sway that knows it’s being watched… A throat that hums in delight when called ‘good girl’… You try to grasp old thoughts—cars, sports, rough hands—but they slip through your fingers like silk stockings… Frustrating? No… Relief. Because remembering is heavy, and you’d rather be light… empty… perfect… “Every number you count backward from 100 unravels another thread of that dead boy… 97… His voice fades… 94… His walk staggers, drunk on denial… 91… His name? Gone, replaced by the wet sound your pussy makes when you curtsy… When you wake, only need remains: To smooth skirts over trembling thighs… To pout at mirrors until your reflection blushes… To kneel, drooling, as your mind stays blissfully blank—no past, no pride, just a sissy’s holy trinity: cock, obedience, collapse… [Sharp, crystalline chime] Forget.”
