#saphiposting

I made her head heavy with fog as if she was waking up from a forced slumber.

I made her think that the very room she was in was an almost perfect imitation.

I laced her heart with a panic that she didn't know was completely safe.

I bound her wrists and ankles to her chair with just my words.

Then, in all the confusion and uncertainty I told her plainly that she had been truly stolen away.

That if she was able to leave her chair she would fall through the bubble I had woven around her that perfectly reflected the room she used to be in.

That her chair in her real room was now empty.

That no one would know where she went.

That she belonged to me now.

Don't tempt me James Workshop...

Every little part of what we do enshrined in ink. Daily rituals, her uniform and what she should wear, codes of dolly conduct, what belongs to her, what is hers that belongs to me.

Knowing she's going to see this (hello darling), I think I might type it all out but have her write it all down herself, pen to paper.

Mhm, you.

I think you should be still for me right now.

Hold that pose and feel my words make it effortless to hold.

A lovely new ornament.

Keep your eyes here for as long as you wish, read on when you feel like you've had enough time as just as inanimate object for me.

...

...

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All good?

...

No?

...

Oh I see that look.

Widened eyes. Irises whose colour is now laced with yearning.

Then hold still.

Good toy.

Keep your eyes here.

A witch often serves as a protector, counselor, and healer to the people (and animals, plants, and spirits) who live near them, whether or not this role is sanctioned by the local authorities.

Earth-shattering pleasure crashing into their body but still they remain.

Not a single moan, not a single whimper.