Turn the Key

He takes the box from me, and I feel another pinch. Finally, he tilts my head downwards and I see a tiny ring in my navel. The ring has a small round charm dangling from it which I can only assume holds more engraved initials. "Now you are complete," my Daddy says scooping me into his arms.

As Daddy carries me from the platform to the bedroom and lays me on the bed, he arranges my thighs open wide. He places my hands folded neatly on top of my head. As he presses his lips against mine and his tongue runs along my lips, I am still and unable to turn my head away or even kiss him back. His hands and tongue continue their exploration of my body and the slick continues to pool between my legs.

Daddy leaves my field of vision again and when he returns, I can see his body is also bare and hard. He takes my head in his hands and applies gentle pressure to my lower jaw opening my mouth for him to press inside. I worry that I'll suffocate but the worry is taken from me when I am reminded by my Daddy that dolls simply do not need to breathe. I relax and feel my ribs stop moving but he immediately withdraws from my throat and says, "My dolly will continue to breathe to maintain a lifelike appearance."

Oxygen fills my lungs again and relieves the burn that had begun there. I find my body quickly pressed beneath his own as he changes his approach and penetrates my core. This time we both inhale sharply. "So tight," he muses. "I could come inside of you now, but my seed is wasted in a doll's belly. To be honest Daddy has a different favorite hole in his pretty doll."

I'm caught off guard when he doesn't roll me onto my belly but instead presses my legs open into a frog position. No ropes are needed to bind me as my body holds this form. Daddy removes the jeweled heart from my bum but I'm not empty for long. He begins to use his fingers to dance along my most sensitive place and as I succumb to pleasure, he begins to increase the pressure in my bottom.

Daddy pauses to tilt my chin forward and places some pillows behind my head. I'm unable to move a bit but I am able to watch as he sinks each inch inside of me. Deeply rooted in my rear opening he gives me time to adjust as he pumps his fingers in and out of my core and strokes my button with his thumb.

"When I command it, my doll will explode with pleasure and scream for me," he instructs me while beginning to move his shaft inside of me again. As the intensity of his punishing thrusts increase, I feel his muscles coil, as if a beast about to strike. I hear his commanding voice. "Come now!" he demands of me. I scream intelligibly as my body detonates and begins to convulse beneath him in a storm of pain and ecstasy.

His seeds drip from me and my head lolls back as he pulls me into his lap, exposing my throat. I feel his lips on my chest for a moment before I feel slight pressure against the key and hear a distinct click. I'm able to lift my head again, and suddenly I am filled with an awareness that I am human once more.

"You're truly mine now," my Daddy says as I curl into a ball of my own accord on his lap. "Time for bed he says," setting me aside and walking to the bathroom. When he returns, he uses a warm cloth to wipe the makeup from my face and applies some sort of ointment to my belly. After a brief knock on the hall door, it's cracked open. Citrouille bounds in and curls up on a plush pillow in the corner of the room, clearly already finding himself at home. Daddy tucks me under the blankets and pulls me close to his chest.

I feel a sense of belonging in his arms but something tugs at my awareness, preventing sleep from taking me. I remember everything that's happened this evening but my memories have a dreamlike quality to them. When I feel the weight of his arms around me increase and he begins to snore, I silently slip from the bed and return to the purple room.

There are tall wrought iron lamps on the grounds outside of the window and just enough light streams through for me to see my reflection in the vanity mirror. My form is bare except for small glimmers at my navel and my throat. I run my hands over my soft skin finding no traces of porcelain or plastic. I laugh to myself releasing some tension.Doll indeed, I think to myself. I lean into the mirror to look more closely and my newfound calm is replaced with terrified wonder. As my fingers trace my collar bones, no necklace remains at all to catch the light and in its place, embedded in my skin, is the tiny heart shaped lock.