When it presented itself, in the manner ordered, for submission as an object it believed it understood what it was letting itself in for. it had read all the posts on tumblr about life as an object, joined the right groups, shared its deepest fantasies, begged any possible Masters to claim it until finally it had been contacted.
With a hard-on that wouldn’t go down, it answered all the questions. it had thought about this…it wasn’t taking this lightly…it was ready….
Ready to be tortured mercilessly…its Masters controlling when and how it felt pain…
Ready to suck and service any cock that was put in front of it…
an anonymous fuck hole, a cunt for getting off in by countless Men, decided by the Owner
Ready to live a life of abuse, never knowing when the abuse would begin…when it would end…
Ready to be objectified…
a urinal…a sewage system….whatever…it was an object.
it understood that it could be modified in any way.
Agreed that its Owner would own its body to do with as He saw fit.
it agreed there would be no limits….
No mercy…No rights….
No way back….it was ready…it had been ready for a long time.
As it knelt waiting, hole exposed, the images from tumblr flashing through its brain, it was scared but excited, this is what it had been born for. it was ready for the fact that its new Owner might not be the muscled brute from its tumblr fantasies. Ready to be tested, learn just how low it could go….it was ready for anything. it had thought this through, it needed this.
it heard the footsteps approach, held its breath, no words, just a sharp prick in the butt and darkness….
Darkness…the hood has never been removed just unzipped for feeding of the tasteless prison loaf and lukewarm water. it has never left this room….it has never seen this room. it has no idea how long it has been here, months, maybe years…certainly not just weeks. The heavy chain gives it room to move in a circle of about 3 feet diameter. its ears are plugged…it has never heard its Owner. it has never seen its Owner. its hands are bound behind its back, it has never felt the touch of its Owner.
it thought it was ready…ready to have an Owner that would decide who fucked it, how many cocks it would service, how it would be tortured, how it would be degraded, modified and abused. it now understands its stupidity, it wasn’t ready…it was still living a fantasy….this was the reality of being an owned object. Yes, its Owner had control of all those things…He just chose not to do anything…just keep it, deprive it, starve it of sensation.
it was an object, so why didn’t it feel like all its dreams had come true?
NO OPTIONS – NO WAY OUT – EXIST TO SERVE – SERVE TO EXIST
LOST, FORGOTTEN, NO LONGER MISSED BY ANYONE!
UNE VISION CLAIRE DU DEVENIR D UN OBJET RIEN DE PLUS
