Waiting to be called upon, clawing the arms of the chair I sit in.
Swallowing my now powedered teeth, wondering why I can't do this myself.

Jane Doe, you can goto room number three, the doctor will see you shortly.
He needs his daily tonic.

The doctor arrives, I'm assured it won't take long and won't hurt.
Lets start with the breasts shall we.

Phase two, slide of the latex hand and prepare the decent into the crevices of solace.
The glisten in her eyes pull me away from my masquerade.

Keep squirming if you want, your only making yourself more convetable.
Your ways of self love are dismaying.
Submit while you still can.
The bloods on your daggers so you might aswell just turn yourself in.

I descend from above and find blood on my daggers.
Patient gone and signs of struggle, I wonder if this has happened before.

Three short controlled burts to the sternum and there fun with me is lost.