You walk into the Doctor’s office seeking answers. You don’t really think you have a problem—you’re just here to talk, right? Maybe gain some clarity and understanding. She’s gorgeous—long, stocking-clad legs, stiletto heels, professional but undeniably sexy. If anyone can reinforce the straight in you, it’s her. You start explaining your struggles—how certain videos have become an obsession, how you keep coming back to them, even when you know you shouldn’t. How alpha cock is like a siren’s call, dragging you under time and time again. You avoid calling it an addiction, but she catches it right away. Gently, she begins to introduce you to the concept of addiction, reading the definition aloud to see if you recognize yourself in it. She even brings out the Big Book to go over Step One, but the word “tincture” is replaced with “cock,” and suddenly it starts to click. But there’s something else—a dark, intensive, corruptive and seductive entity. The succubus emerges, taunting you, mocking your attempt to get better. She’s been ingrained in you through all the deep encouraged bi Femdom conditioning you’ve partaken in. She knows you’re not going to change. You’re too far gone, too addicted, too weak. Her wicked smile and sultry whispers make you ache to submit. She knows how to cue every single trigger to make you throb and crumble. Two energies pull at you—one offering recovery, the other dragging you deeper into addiction. The counselor’s calm, professional tone battling the succubus’s relentless teasing. You start to question which voice is telling the truth. Which one do you really want to follow? By the end, you’re left teetering between hope and hopelessness—unsure if this is the first step toward freedom or just the beginning of an even deeper descent.