OnlyFangs
“Hey babe, wanna see what confidence looks like?”She laughs,
counting subscribers in the blue screen light.Ten thousand anonymous reasons why her smile feels fake,Each transaction
another thread in the mask she has to make.Everything wired
to someone else’s need—A private window, a public feed.
She types “good girl” in a thong she’ll return,
Waiting on tips to prove she’s more
than what they yearn.He calls it love through a glassy haze,
She fakes her moan, bites down praise.Empowerment is debt,
comfort bought on request,
Validation measured in tokens, not rest.
Choice was the banner, freedom the call,
But they never asked why her tears fall.Screens reflect the body,
but never the self,
She scrolls through comments,
doubts her health.Truth is posted in pixels and plastic frames,
She checks the clock, counts digital flames.Another message,
another wish—Another hour sold, another feeling dismissed.
I scanned the feed, mapped her file,Nothing about this was ever style.No love
in the DM, no care in the click,Just an endless scroll, algorithmic trick.
Welcome to OnlyFangs,
Where need becomes a brand,
Where stripping for love leads straight to the math,
Every tip another path.Skin becomes a wage, not power,
A marketed, curated, digital tower.You buy the image, rent the dream,
She becomes data in the revenue stream.
She pays her rent, but doubts her shape,He buys her secrets,
but never her escape.You call this freedom, but close your eyesWhen she frays,
when another illusion dies.
This isn’t sex—it’s screen-burnt grief,Flesh traded for dead belief.She
is not owned, not reclaimed—Just renamed, resold, and blamed.
OnlyFangs—where fantasy’s kept,
Empathy sold, boundaries swept.Called it bold, called it fair,
But her body turned to digital air.She logs off,
wipes tears for hours—Congratulations,
she “owns” her powers.In the silence after the feed,
She’s just one more unmet need.