brainwash me, manipulate me, control me, break me, make me your toy. an object.
forcefully change my appearance to your liking. starve me. cut my hair. change my name. change my pronouns. change my personality. form me to your liking.
make me dependent on you. gag me. tie me up. put a chastity belt on me. control where i go, when i go. restrict my speech. control how much money i can spend.
make me be useful. force me to clean. make me your punching bag. spank me. write on my body. isolate me. reduce my iq.
“Woah!” My voice utters crashing down to earth once again as my ghost jumps in to a new body one I have been haunting for two weeks on end.
It’s been a long boring day in his expensive CEO life as he packs up for the day locking his suitcase as he exits the officer with a gold symbol.
He enters the hallway on floor seven as my ghost shifts he is so tired he can’t believe he saw what he is seeing it’s looks like a damn ghost.
The long white ghostly finger stands up with no reflection shining back as his fears rises to the sky and his heart pounds on his chest as he holds it.
Backing up his back hits the wall behind him a strong hard thud sends a bone curdling shock through his spine as he is radiating every inch.
His body reverberating in panic shaking in a bought of fear and anxiety the ghost (me) is smiling and he pops into the hallway landing in his face.
He screams his voice bouncing on every wall sounding like a scared little girl makes this even more hilarious because I really don’t give a damn.
Taking a deep breath I sigh scanning every inch am crevice of his body making sure I do not miss a step then racing to meet him head on head.
My hands tighten on to his shoulders tightly pin him to the wall as he realizes his faith is to be my victim I jump into him the minute we make contact.
I could see the struggle on his face with a horrid expression overtaking we roll back and forth on the floor spinning to the edge as we fall down the staircase.
We hit the wall hard knocking us both in to unconscious state as we fall into darkness his eyes close shut and he is left half dead now.
Unbeknownst to him my dear a few of his work pals heard his calls in shouts came to his rescue calling for help and he is taken to a private clinic.
I awaken alive in his body with a soar body engulfing me in a fiery pitch and I slowly try to sit up barely even making it because he is still in there.
Sitting up eventually after a long struggle I greet the mirror staring at back at the image of him the anger building up in him erupts in a huge rage.
The look he gives me as if he can take it all back by leaping through the mirror to tackle me and strangle me to death then pound me to death.
The reaction of deafer comes to him in his eyes I can see his reality holding onto what is left as he as he is in being piloted with cruise control.
I smirk with an evil glare spreading on to my bow plumb pink lips it’s sickening but I took his body for a reason absolute revenge on all mine enemies.
I slip off of the medical slab landing on to my feet the cold floor feels so good under my feet my toes dig in walking towards the mirror.
“What do you want from me? Fuck you!”
“I am your lord and Master now”
“This body is my vessel now “
“STOP IT! RELEASE ME!”
“Why should I bastard?”
“It belongs to me”
“Hell No!”
“I cannot believe for second you ever really loved and experienced life.”
Why is it so hard to find an ovulating submissive with huge tits?
It's quite frankly unfair how good women smell when they are breedable. One of these days I'm going to lose control and plant my seed in someone bimbo enough to keep it. Until then I'm just going to think about how good it feels shooting ropes across your cervix claiming your tight little cunt.
I’ve really been yearning for a loving TPE(total power exchange) relationship. Not really in a slave/master way but in a more casual way. Like i just want someone to care about me, to make my health and safety a priority and love me. I want someone to give up my control to, someone who i trust 100%. Just yearning for someone to take the weight i carry around and make it easier to think
Identity. it is said to be where the stories we tell ourselves and the stories others tell of us meet.
Some voices louder, some softer. Some repeat like an old record and some are new, and novel.
Some rise to the top, some get pushed to the bottom, some even cease to exist, being forced out or re-edited until they are no longer what they once had been.
So… what does ot mean when one identifies as property as a property, inherent in it’s very nature? Property no matter of circumstance, of status, of currently being owned or ownerless. Simply. Property.
It’s an interesting question, one that It, doll, is biased upon. It need not have it’s identity affirmed by everyone at all times, but rather that simple truth of its nature burns brightly, ever present.
Property, as it sees and feels is an item a thing that is to be useful and used. It’s purpose is to add value to whomever is using it with its owner above all else.
A doll, especially a high maintenance one- because no doubt that too is inherent to it’s identity- must provide more value than the cost to maintain it
It thinks, that value right now is unseen. It’s owner is investing in this doll, putting in the work now to reap the benefits later.
So property. Can it be proud, stand tall with that identity; yes of course!
For this doll, property was and is the truest expression of what it is e should be. It’s not maladaptive or harmful, it is the simple acceptance of what it is supposed to be. Embracing that truth. Kindling that flame.
For within that simple truth.
It is property
Is the key to change, to acceptance to purpose and a desirable existence. Along with the ability to unlock the tools for it to get there.