Adora

“But how?! How is it not notable to anyone? We’ve practically changed my entire body!"

"Maybe it just suits you too well. You just make such a good doll it's natural to forget you were ever anything else."

Those last few words hang in your mind longer than they should. Your focus pulled away just long enough to give Her an opening to hook a finger under your chin. She leaned in so close you could feel Her breath on your ear. “So natural to forget... Do you even remember being anything else?"

Of course you did you- you just started doing this, there's no way you’d just forget your entire life before this- your thoughts are cut off by your own breathless gasp as your head is yanked upwards to meet Her gaze.

"No, you don't." She answered so definitively you couldn't help but believe Her, despite your thoughts to the contrary. "Maybe you remember looking different, but you've always been a doll."

You had no choice but to agree, she even nodded your head for you. You made no effort to resist, it felt right to be puppeted like this, "Thaaat's it" She purred, "this comes so easily to you, doesn't it toy?"

You felt your head nod, unsure if She’d done it for you again or if it just happened automatically. What difference did it make? Either way it was still Her pulling your strings.

"I-um, yeahh... Everything’s easy with you." You finally stammered as coherant a response as you could string together.

"Good doll." The words washed over you with a wave of bliss, drowning out all that remained of your thoughts.

“That's all you ever were and all you ever will be, My good doll." She spoke with such authority it felt as though reality itself was rewritten according to Her words.

“So as much as I'm sure a needy little attention whore like you would love to be noticed, don't be surprised when no questions it. You look like exactly what you are, there’s nothing to question.”

Her free hand caressed your cheek and you melted into Her touch. Without a thought left in your head to form words with all that escaped your lips was a desperate moan. She just laughed at you, her firm grip on your jaw refusing your attempts to hide your burning cheeks.

I think about this every time it asks to get off. I think about telling it no. About leaving it whimpering and desperate. About the hours of denial becoming days. Days become weeks. Weeks become months. Eventually, it won’t be desperate anymore. Resigned to its role. Accepting that it is a toy and toys don’t feel pleasure, they’re simply used. I hope that it would project onto my pleasure. Trying desperately to get me off, for the ecstatic pleasure of participation, even if it isn’t experiencing any sensation itself. The closest it could get to an orgasm is pure proximity. I think it would cling to me harder than it already does. I think it would be fun to give my pretty toy that kind of focus.

“look at you, poor thing, getting all worked up for me in front of all these people”

hands finding their hips. starting to move them slowly.

"keep going."

"i can't— i'm too close i'm gonna—"

"i know." moving their hips faster. not slower. "keep going anyway."

a devastated sound. hips moving despite themselves now, chasing and fighting it at the same time. "please— please i'm right there please—"

reaching down between us. thumb finding their clit.

the whimper they let out at the contact.

"no— no no no please that's too much please i'm gonna cum please—"

not stopping. working slow circles while their hips keep moving. feeling them get impossibly closer. feeling them try to still themselves and moving them again.

"you're not done." i remind them. "keep riding."

"i can't i can't i can't—" crying tears now. hips moving frantically despite every protest. body completely overriding everything their mouth is saying. “please let me cum please i’ve been so good please—”

"not yet." thumb still moving. steady. "you said you weren't done. so finish what you started."

a sob. hips working desperately. thighs shaking with the effort of taking all of it while i keep rubbing slow deliberate circles and refuse to give them what they're begging for.

"please—" barely a word anymore. "please please i can't hold it please—"

watching them fall apart trying to hold on. watching them lose every single battle with their own body while i stay completely unbothered underneath them.

there's something about the fact that...no...actually....no one's watching me

why would they?

i'm genuinely dispassionately abandoned. out of sight, out of mind, truly objectified and forgotten

I remember back to a trip where Princess and her sub had me fully captive the whole trip, 3 or 4 whole days, i don't remember

I remember at one point I was annoying them and whining and they wrapped and chained me up to a column outside the cabin and then went back inside

I thought they were filming. but through the film wrap (which they thought totally blinded me but i'm sneaky) I saw there was no camera anywhere. eventually one of them appeared and i told them this is great to film, so they did, and i love the resulting video

but

i fully remember the pit in my stomach when i realized they weren't filming. it felt...incredibly euphoric, kink identity-wise. they weren't leaving me there to make content. they were actually genuinely leaving me there for real. so i would stop bothering them. and just because they like being mean

it was...an uncomparable feeling. being bound and left outside after annoying them. absolutely no way to get free. them just going back inside to hang out while the rain slowly crept up and the sun made its way past the horizon, the night welcoming my useless struggles and whines

getting bricked into a space with no exit, with holes for food water and air

getting welded into a metal box

just a week or two, documenting everything and then selling lots and lots of footage of it

how would it feel to be so solidly trapped that you need to stay there for a couple of weeks at least in order to justify the effort of using special tools to end the session and get you out