Curious Kitten

maybe she tries to shape herself into something more worthy. maybe she pretends at dominance for other, more pathetic girls. anything to be Enough. in her heart, she knows what she's meant for. she should be taken, owned, and kept. her purpose is to serve. it's what she's good for.

you can see it in her eyes, if you look closely. she'll pretend otherwise, for a moment. take her in your hands. be firm. force into her just a small taste of what she's meant to be. her mind will snap like the fragile little thing it always was.

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Just float in the pretty pink sunset and

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"Oh...? So soon?" They smile. "But of course, you're right. You can never get enough beauty sleep, can you?"

Another wave. Your eyelids flutter. "What...? What's going..."

"Hm? You were just saying that you needed to get some beauty sleep. Did you forget already? How silly. You must be very— careful, now!"

Your legs feel weak. Limp. You find yourself falling, only to be caught in their arms.

"Let's get you somewhere more comfortable, hmm? Somewhere where you can get some well-dserved beauty sleep."

Your head rolls back. Mouth open. Eyes lidded. Barely, you recognize that their arms have tucked themselves under your back and knees. A moment later, you're weightless.

Floating.

Then dropped into a sea of plush silk.

"There we are. Much better."

You try to follow their voice, but find the room a blur. "I...my...head...what's...?"

"Shhh." Deft fingers find your hair, stroking your feeble protests away. "You need this, remember? Say it again."

"I need...my beauty sleep," you repeat on a sigh that proceeds a rush of warmth, and heaviness.

"Good doll. Beauty sleep is good for you. Without it, your thoughts turn ugly, don't they?"

You nod. "Beauty sleep...good for me."

"Were you having some ugly thoughts, doll?"

You nod again.

"Tell me. You can do that before you drift off, can't you?"

The fog in your mind parts just a little. Enough to think. To recall. To see them lying beside you, one hand stroking your forehead, and another rubbing your tummy. You swallow. "It’s hard out there," you say. "Everyone treats me like I'm a person, so sometimes I forget I'm not." You feel tears begin to well in your eyes, your heart racing with your words. "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, my silly doll. Don't cry. You've done nothing wrong." They wipe away the wettness, then pull your face to theirs. "You're just playing pretend, sweet thing. That's what dolls do."

Right. Of course. "Dolls love playing pretend."

"That’s right! Dolls love playing pretend. Do you remember why?"

Your face scrunches up. "No..."

"That's alright." Lips find your cheek. You blush. "Dolls play pretend to make people happy."

"Like you?"

"Yes, like me. And you make me very, very happy, little doll. No matter what I tell you to be, you play your part perfectly. You're a very good doll."

Warmth spreads through your chest. "I'm a good doll."

"And sometimes," they smile, "when silly little dolls are perfect at playing pretend, they forget they were ever playing at all. That's why I'm here. To remind you when play time is over." A hand, the one on your stomach, slowly trails to the hem of your pants. "Do you remember what happens when play time is over?"

You shake your head.

"I think you do. You come back here, to your dollhouse, and I undress you."

For a moment, you squint. "Undress me...?"

"Of course. Taking off your play clothes is essential for getting good beauty sleep."

Your eyes roll back, and once again your limbs are so, so heavy. You couldn't lift them even if you tried.

"That's it. No more thoughts. No more movement. Play time is over, and good dolls are still and silent when play time is over. Isn't that right?"

You don’t respond.