Just a gimp
A journey of a girl becoming just a gimp. As her Master objectifes her nullifying everything that makes her human. Using pain, humiliation, extreme brain washing and isolation. It is just a gimp now. It has no identity. No past or future. This is its life. It will live for Him as a faceless void living in endless darkness. it obeys. It worships. it suffers. it is His punching bag and torture device. it has no will no choices or decisions. It purpose is to serve Him and His cock. There is no return to a normal life for it. It no longer can be human. It is now less.... a worth less fuck thing... Less then even a sub creature. Fuckmeat, fuck puppet, fuck object... Just holes in a suit. And for it, this is the a joyful life one it was born for.
His
He was its only connection to reality. It was kept in darkness most of the time. Sensory deprived no sight, no sound, little touch: hands mitted, body suited, the feel of hard floors, chains and His hands and implements, pain. The taste of cock, cum, gags, gruel and water only. Smell of sweat, suit, occasionally Him.
So He was all it knew or thought about. He was everything. It’s reason for existing.
It was faceless. In many ways it didn’t exist. Its suit did but the thing inside had no identity. It was just holes for His cock.
It simply was His
It rarely breathed fully. Its oxygen restricted by its corset, its hood, Him. Creating continual brain fog so it found it hard to think clearly.
It’s only clear thought is of Him.He was all it knew or understood.
He controlled it completely. It didn’t move, breathe, eat, drink, piss without His permission. Chained and caged so even stored He restricted it. Complete freedom of thought or responsibility. It never had to make a decision since it chose to be owned by Him.
Obedience has become as easy as breathing once was. It no longer understood it could disobey.
It has permanent captivity scars, brands, tattoos and piercings. And layers of bruising and welts. He liked to hurt it. It liked that it looked owned, that there was no return to normality. That this was forever. It comforted it because without Him it didn’t exist. The pain was necessary. He needed it to feel pain, and it needed to please Him. The marks it wore with pride. It had been used by Him, it has pleased Him. That was its only purpose.
He was everything. It was His.
Perfection