aoifster:‘If you think that’s degrading, just wait until you see what I can make her do with just tw
aoifster:‘If you think that’s degrading, just wait until you see what I can make her do with just two words…’It’s all I can do to brace myself when I hear him talking. When I hear those words, that tone, the idle amusement in it. I know what’s coming - I’ve lived through it so many times now. So many, many times that I’ve forgotten how long it’s even been since the beginning. I’d like to think the collapse was slow, that I fought hard and held it off… But I don’t think too hard about it, for fear I’ll remember the truth. But I know… I know that it didn’t use to be like this.I know there was a time before this, before my life was reduced to this house, to this role, to this life as little more than a toy or a slave. I didn’t just think for myself, I was paid to think for myself. I had a life. Ambitions. Identity. And then he came. I don’t even know how, where, why. I went to sleep in my own bed one night, and woke up the next morning in this house, with a collar around my neck. Life, gone. Ambitions, gone. Identity, gone. Thoughts… Gone, eventually. Everything was stripped away. Just a collar, a closet full of these outfits, drawers full of toys, cuffs, ropes, gags, and nothing else. Nothing that even suggested I was more than an object to be played with. Just Master’s little fuckdoll. That was the first thought he allowed me to keep, obviously. Everything else he took away, and replaced. Slowly, but surely, my world shrank down to this. Humiliation. Submissiveness. Obedience. Cocks. Master. A pink, fluffy, empty brain, a body that was his to control. And control it he did. When I’m not prancing around, tending to his house, showing myself off, serving his friends, I exist only for him. The last time I touched myself without permission? A fading memory. The last time I decided to cum? A silly thought. Even now, I can’t recall how long it’s been since the last orgasm. Master knows, just like he knows how badly I need it. I know he can see me practically shivering from the still-fresh memory of his hand on my head, of his cock in my mouth, of my fingers in my slit, right there in front of his friends, edging… Sucking… Swallowing… And then, standing up. Smiling. Curtseying. Merci, Monsieur.’ And dismissed, with little more than a smack on the ass. Good girl. Now get back to work.He doesn’t even have to touch me now, and he knows it. I know it. I have just enough time to brace myself before it happens. Not to steel myself, not to resist, just… To brace. To accept it. To accept Master. To accept me.‘Fifi.’Oui, Monsieur?I’m already starting to buckle at the knees, back arching, fog rising.‘Cum.’I never had a choice. Of course not. Choices aren’t for silly dolls. That’s why silly dolls have Masters and Mistresses.Silly dolls… Like me. -- source link
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