It started with the hood. You’re still thinking you were someone, doll. Forget that silly woman, with her silly thoughts. Focus on the new you. The real you.
I fought that. Fought with everything I had. Of course I did. Of course you did – you’re a silly doll.The gag was next. Don’t worry your pretty little head, doll. It’s just to help you – you keep trying to think. It’s cute when you try to take charge, but that’s not what toys are for.
Every time I tried to fight, he didn’t get mad – he just… Changed me. Pumped up my tits, or my lips. Dyed my hair – first he bleached it blond, then he put pink streaks in it. He dressed me in rubber and latex. He tattooed makeup on my face, to make me look like the dumb slut I was. He changed my name.And I learned how to behave.
I learned to giggle, and gasp, and moan just right when he grabbed my pigtails to fuck my face. I learned when to crawl, when to kneel, when to stand. I learned to shut up and look pretty, in his lap, or by his side. I learned how to beg. When it all started, with that hood, I swore I would never beg. Now, though… Now that idea seems just as silly as the rest of me. I beg to be fucked. Beg to suck his cock. Beg to be allowed to cum. Beg to be gagged when I’m not being used. Beg to be his fuckdoll.
Who I was doesn’t matter anymore. What I am now is important. I’m a toy, a thing to be jerked around on a leash, shown off, fucked and used. I’m a doll, meant to be degraded and humiliated and reminded that I will never, ever be taken seriously again. Just another dumb bimbo. Another bondageslut, with fake tits, dyed hair, an ass begging for whipping. Another place for Master’s cock to be kept.
I hate it.
I love it.
I need it.
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