On a Shelf

I’m your doll, a plaything. You’d like to keep me locked in a cage, safe from prying eyes and presumptuous fingers. You believe that I am yours alone. My hair has only been smelled by you. My body grasped in only your hands. My tight little pussy violated with your aching cock and no one else’s. My soft skin caressed by your fingers alone. If you knew the real truth, where I go, who I see, what they do to me… you’d be furious. You can’t take it. You know I’ll never be yours completely but you have to try. So you must punish me. You scald my skin with hot water and clean my skin with a stainless steel wire brush to remove the filth. You scare me with the gory details of life and the possibilities of danger to a sweet, young girl like me. Then you tell me that I’m only truly safe with you as you pet my hair and dress the wounds I brought upon myself.

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