Does it worry you that you will be sold one day?
Willow will graduate in May next year. But I might not be with her that long. Already, she’s searching for the right girl to sell me to. Or give me to. Money’s not important to Willow. She’ll always be able to get women to pay for her wants and needs.
I’m a highly sexualized creature, as you’ve noticed. Taking away what I had down there between my legs means a lot to Willow. It’s the first one she’s ever taken away.
It’s not pride she feels. It’s power. Affirmation of her strength. Her sexual superiority.
I will never again know the delight of a woman’s soft and vigorous tongue down there.
What women have down there, what I had down there, is gone.
And it is so very important to her that the thing between my legs stays unused and caged for the rest of my days.
It’s called pussy. It’s sublime beyond measure.
And she must assure herself that it’s gone …
So she will take her time. Find a girl who will continue my chastity. Keep me encased.
No. I’m wrong. That’s not the girl Willow seeks.
Willow will find a girl she is sure will later find a girl who will then find a girl certain to find a girl who also will find a girl committed to passing me through a continuum of girls dedicated to controlling me and assuring that what Willow took away remains removed.
It’s gone. Dear god. It’s gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
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