#the kidnapping

i wanna be such a good little pet for my kidnapper until they finally let me sleep in a bed instead of on the floor with a puppy crate mat that barely keeps me comfortable, much less warm.

i want to anxiously await night time, following directly behind them, being so excited i couldn’t even contain myself. until i see THEIR bed, with cuffs attached to one side. one pair towards the top, and other towards the bottom.

you aren’t being rewarded with a good night sleep, of course you aren’t. you immediately felt your heart sink, feeling so silly to of believed they were treating you with even a drop of kindness.

as tears gently and quietly fell from your eyes, you slowly lifted your arms and stretched out your legs to be left helpless. you finally found yourself drifting off to sleep only to awake to being groped, having fingers shoved inside you, toys left behind in your holes. trying to hard to hold in your tears and your moans, not wanting to give them any satisfaction. but regardless, you were their entertainment, never anything more or less. and now they have you all hours of the day to play with, to torture.

being kidnapped by a couple who take turns using you as they please, sometimes together, sometimes on their own.

imagine their dominating style is entirely opposite from each other, one is impossibly sadistic and cruel in the most unimaginable ways. leaving you with bruises and marks, a physical reminder of their cruelty. while the other humiliates and degrades you softly and gently, fucking with your mind and destroying you mentally.

you have truly become a toy, a little doll for them to play with. everyday brings something new and you have been used far beyond your limits so consistently, you’re starting to melt into them. you’ve found yourself clutching onto them after they’ve used you, crying into their shoulders, letting them wipe your tears and fix your hair. you are theirs. you no longer belong to yourself, and you’re ashamed to say it brings you comfort to know that.