Breaking Barbie

It takes all kinds. And truth is stranger than fiction. So cliché, it’s droll, but i need help and i need to start somewhere. And a sad start this is, me, sounding off here where no one really hears me. It has the desperate feel of yelling into a dark, empty cave only to hear the echo of one’s own voice.  There’s someone talking, there’s someone listening, but it’s pretty pathetic when done for a party of one.

Looking back, this whole messy state of affairs i find myself in has a strong “duh” factor, like “What did i expect?”

Not this.

Even if i WAS practically begging for it, i NEVER thought she’d really do it. But She did. In spades.

You see, there are all kinds. For instance, there really ARE people into whips and chains. i’ve met them, LOTS of them.  i am one of them.  If you are reading this, there’s good chance you are, too. There are people who adore whips and chains and slick sweaty leather. And boots and heels that go on forever. Even locks and collars and wicked devices that make lesser folk squeamish, they make me purr. A Woman who is master of such things is called a Dominatrix. There are many self professed dominatrices but few whom truly master others. My Dominatrix, my Mistress, much to my chagrin, is the real thing. This is my story. This is how just a little fun and games ended up in me surrendering my free will to a sexy, sadistic Woman.

A true Master always keeps their submissives wanting for more. i was always wanting, always hinting, but She only gave just enough to keep me coming back for more.  She was, She IS the consummate tease. In a continuing, seemingly futile effort to receive more from Her, my fantasies with Her became increasingly bizarre. She fed into them, a little at a time, until we reached a point where it was obvious, at least to Her, whatever Her will is, it would become my reality. And i was the opposite, oblivious, completely and blissfully unaware of the control i was ceding. Till at last we reached a fateful moment.  i didn’t recognize the importance of this tiny moment until it was too late.

It came after a party in which i had been allowed to attend to Her as Her personal servant.  i was Her ‘sissy maid’ for the evening. In that i am better than six feet and a bit too broad, too deep to really play at being the fairer sex, i guess most would assume that this was an exercise in humiliation. But i am lithe and fair skinned with a barely there blonde beard and very long hair for a man.  Mistress has a good eye and skills to match and incredibly enough, was actually able to make rather devastating use of me in that role. In retrospect,  i think i enjoyed myself too much. We were leaving the party and i was driving and a bit distracted when the conversation turned to Barbie dolls and the very small fortune i was able to make from selling some vintage dolls and accessories procured in settling an estate. i forgot my place and was dismissive when She expressed Her disdain for the doll, it’s impossible proportions, it’s preference for pink and the ultra feminine, and She wondered at the doll’s detrimental effects on young women. i was a little high on life, and a little off guard when I suggested She lighten up. After all, i explained, it was just a children’s toy and just another target for feminists eager to dismantle every bit of what makes women so absolutely delightful to us men.

“Oh? So I guess that makes you another one of these men that believe women exist merely for the pleasure of men? Perhaps you need to spend more time in high heels and having to keep YOUR waist pencil thin, for MY pleasure?!” She was suddenly bristling.

i instantly got that icky sensation that a guy gets when he knows he’s “stepped in it” and i did my best to pull my puppy dog tail between my legs and whimper and apologize. But judging by Her curt demeanor thereafter, i didn’t get anywhere.

Still, i didn’t think much of it, till i realized She wasn’t going to return my phone calls. Nor answer my emails. A few weeks went by when i resorted to the typical male standby; i sent Her a ton of red roses saying i’d do ANYTHING to earn Her forgiveness.

i finally got a reply. A text message;

Be at my place ‘this date/this time’. As proof of your submission to me, you will be asked to present unto me your birth certificate, social security card, driver’s license, cell phone and wedding ring.

(Yes, I am married and I know I will be misjudged, but trust me, it’s complicated. Once one becomes a ‘proven pervert’, it matters not whether one is a good father, a good provider or tentative lover because all other characteristics become overshadowed by your sexual predilections.)

You will bring one thousand dollars as well, both to account for all expenses incurred over the weekend, as well as to be evidence of your commitment to me.  Should you be even a second late or omit anything I’ve requested, I will never see you again. Obey me.

i was stunned, completely aghast. And yet there was something that completely intoxicated me. She expected me to obey. It was SO totally crazy; i didn’t think that i’d go through with it. But i needed to see Her, just HAD to have that one last face to face with Her and hope to make everything all right. So, i showed up early, prepared as She requested, but in my head i was equally prepared to bolt as fast as my happy lil’ feet could carry me if things started getting any weirder. i suffered from the delusion that i had everything under control.

When i arrived at Her door in an ultra still corridor, in a studio high up in a factory like complex, there was a note ordering me to be completely stripped and kneeling. And to be prepared to present that which She had requested. i had rather expected a ploy like this and it did temper the shock somewhat. Still, i actually retreated a few steps before i could still my heart to return and do as She demanded.

i was completely naked and shivering for what seemed an eternity. It really shouldn’t have been as cold as it suddenly felt. But i was shaking and trembling when the door swung open without warning or fanfare. Her friend and right hand lady, Michelle, was standing above me in thigh high boots and glistening long, blonde hair. My throat knotted as she stepped away revealing my glaring Dominatrix.  Mistress was all a suit in glistening black PVC, head to super high heels in a tight cat suit, except for Her chest revealing heaving cleavage which absolutely commanded all my attention. She had blazing red hair when She had only just been a blonde on that fateful day i forgot myself. And there was a bright light shining in my face, as i could just barely make out Her other friend, Sherdur, a buxom strong black woman, pointing a camera at me.

“So, foolish male, will you really do anything to obtain My forgiveness?”said so sweetly it almost sounded like a chime.

i was positively stunned. And aroused. It was the perfect storm of shock and awe. i had no voice so i just nodded stupidly.

“Prove to Me that You will obey Me. Show me what you have brought me.”

From a small pack, i produced my driver’s license, birth certificate and social security card. Michelle took each from me, held each up to the camera before handing them to the mischievous Prima Dona. i felt almost like i’d be sick as i pressed my wedding ring into Michelle’s palm and She read aloud the inscription inside. After which she took my cell phone, my world, with an almost predatory smile and then took the money with a flashy wave and stepped behind me.

“Slave, fold your hands behind your back.”

i felt hypnotized as i obliged, and no sooner than i did, there was a ‘snick’ noise and Michelle had me cuffed as well as naked. My ankles followed instantly, the steel felt like ice. In the two or three minutes since Her door had opened, i suddenly felt as if my former life was passing before my eyes. It happened impossibly fast, almost as if a spell had been placed upon me.

“Crawl to me, male. Worship my feet for My amusement.”

This was not easy to do under the circumstances, but once i was helpless at Her feet, the slick PVC was sweet on my tongue. The Ladies laughed and crowed, either at me or at things that i assumed were being found on my cell phone, but when i tried to look up and see, Sherdur would slap me hard and say “Eyes down. You exist for OUR pleasure. We don’t exist for yours.”

When Mistress became satisfied that my predicament was every bit that She desired, She tasked the Ladies to make me suffer. Mistress owned a glorious dungeon and in it i was attached wrists behind me to a hoist and bent forward by the wench until i was quite exposed and helpless.  She pressed a blood red ball gag into my mouth and set Her Ladies to removing every bit of my body hair. i guess the process is called ‘sugaring’. But such a sweet word does not do justice to the glee the Ladies took at my suffering.

While the Ladies worked on me, Mistress had my ankles spread wide with cuffs on either end of a bar, and personally STRIPPED my privates. i became weak in the knees and struggled to keep weight off my burning wrists for when She was done, She still wasn’t quite done. Using tiny clothes pins and what looked like a plastic jar of medical paste, She folded and glued my penis into the scrotum, securing Her carefully placed folds with the clothes pins and then going overkill with wide strips of soft, sticky medical tape plastered over the whole groin.

Through my drooling gag i tried to say every safe word i could imagine, “stop”, “no”, “red”, “yellow”, “please stop”, then finally a long, pitiful string of “red red red … “ but it was no use. My fantasy was becoming a nightmare and it was entirely out of my hands.

Just about the time i thought i’d pass out from the strain and the pain, i was lowered onto a wheeled bar stool and secured to it in a seated position with long, soft lengths of bright pink rope. This felt like heaven compared to my former, precarious position. But my joy soon evaporated when i was wheeled up to a tabletop loaded with curious items.

In the hours that followed my hair was bleached platinum blonde. My ears were pierced and besotted with oversized silver hoops. Mistress used an expanding glue to seal the claps closed so that removing them would be extremely difficult, if not outright impossible. My eye brows were plucked into a state of near non existence and in their place Mistress used a black Sharpie ink marker to give me something quite visible and awkwardly semi-permanent.  She applied oversized lashes with a permanent glue and then made them heavy with mascara. Heavy eyeliner with black ink markers, shiny pink lips made with a combination of other ‘magic’ markers, and my cheek bones painted with bright pink hearts …

When my hair was dry, Mistress clipped my bangs to finish my Barbie doll look and finally removed my gag after i promised with a nod that i wouldn’t speak without permission.  When She finished cleaning up my new look, what i saw looking back at me in the mirror couldn’t have possibly have been me.

But it was. My jaw still screaming in pain, i started to cry. But my makeup remained perfect. Not quite certain whether these were tears of sorrow or tears for fear or tears for what I used to be, they flowed out of me as i stared at the living doll who was staring back at me.

Mistress seemed very pleased and Michelle took more pictures of Mistress’ handiwork.

“The fun has just begun!” exclaimed my captor as she wheeled me helplessly and desperately back into the dungeon. Biting my lip to stifle a scream, i just barely didn’t scream. My jaw still ached and i was very much afraid of being gagged again. But i was almost equally afraid that my tacit acceptance of current events would signal compliance of what they were doing to me. i was in a silent panic held still like a deer in headlights.

Legs still bound tightly to the bar stool, my arms were freed and the Ladies rubbed life back into them and for a tiny bit i was in sheer heaven, to have such wonderfully, beautiful women dressed in tight black, shiny outfits pressing so close to me that i became drunk on their flowered scents. For a moment i was allowed to wonder how i could have let this happen to me. i couldn’t think how to stop this. Actually i couldn’t think, period. i was just flowing, responding. Following. Obeying. It was almost like i blinked, and when i opened my eyes again, soft leather mittens were being pulled over my freshly painted fingernails and with unbreakable silver rings looped into each tip. They were buckled snug at the wrists and i was slowly hoisted into the air.

Released from the stool, i was stretched till i was tippy toe and my pretty pink toenails were just brushing the carpet when Mistress set me down two inches. Not quite flat footed,  i could now take baby steps and breathed a small sigh of relief. i could see myself in the dungeon mirrors and hadn’t even been quite aware that a lacy black bra had been placed on me. My breath was taken away at the sight of platinum blonde hair tickling the feminine outline of the sexy brassiere, and any sign of my former manhood tucked and taped away. i felt like something was fading away and the thought that i might be liking it only made me more afraid.

Next i was fitted with silk stockings the feeling of which sent absolute shivers down my spine. With little prodding i stepped into a black garter belt which was then attached to the stockings with what looked like tiny pink rose clips. Then i was helped into pink PVC gogo boots and Mistress continued to freak me out by running a bead of glue along the zipper, working it in with a few quick zips before leaving them snug and tight. She smiled at Her deviancy.

“Now THAT will get plenty of attention!” and the Ladies laughed at me, an image in pink and platinum, and i wondered when they’d finally be satisfied and done humiliating me. Not yet.  Breast forms were next. Silicone and jiggling in Mistress’ deft hands, Michelle coated their flat sides with medical paste and with Sherdur’s help pressed them into the empty places of the bra. My chest became suddenly heavy with these cold, alien forms, making my head swim. Which was NOTHING compared to what came next, a full length, lamb leather black corset which had laces front and back. Into it i went with Michelle taking pictures of the momentous occasion. Mistress gleefully threw me forward and then snapped me back, using my own weight to cinch the corset tighter and tighter. It was insane the way She methodically whittled me down until i was a impossibly thin. i could barely breathe and yet She tied knot after KNOT and to top it all off!  A silver chain was locked about my narrow waist. Any attempt to remove the corset would result in the chain cruelly cutting into me. i was trapped. i was transformed. And this time i DID scream when Sherdur suddenly seized and ripped away the medical tape plastered to my groin. When my head cleared i gaped at this perfect little Y where I had once thought myself a man. There was a little slit where my penis was glued away and i no longer believed the pink and black dolly in those mirrors was me. i was dead. Long live barbie.

OMG

Michelle left at this point, taking my vehicle, and everything that made me male with her.” You better obey!” she threatened me, or She’d use my own phone to make sure everyone in my contact list had both the text and the email versions of the pictures she had taken. There was no fight left in me at this point and it was in complete resignation that the remaining Ladies now white and black, set me free and finished dressing me.

Black satin panties hiding beneath a PVC mini skirt, pink, of course. A break from all the pink with a white, silk shirt with billowing sleeves finely tapered at buttoned cuffs.  And finally, a shiny pink, plastic purse was draped over my shoulder.  We all looked in the mirror and what they had created.  Mistress’ will had been done.  i was Her very own living Barbie doll now, the toy of many a girl’s young dreams. Existing for Her pleasure, i was readied for Her world and what was to come. So She took me away. Away from Her studio which hadn’t proved to be at all safe. Yet it seemed so much safer than the world at large. i followed Her all the same.

i died 100 times and more that day. First up was a beauty salon, hair and nails touched up. It was the most humiliating experience of my life to that moment and it could have been even worse, but fortunately they had this tiny back room which was barely more than a closet except for a chair and a sink and a mirror. Existing for just such an occasion, my hair and nails were done to Mistress’ strict standards.

And then came dinner, believe it or not. She seemed to bathe in all the attention we attracted. i couldn’t make myself small enough. Though i barely ate (i couldn’t hardly breathe much less make room for more!) i couldn’t resist the wine and She plied me with it. i was a bit tipsy by the time i slithered out (and had to go back in alone after i forgot my pink purse, and oh what a long, slow motion retrieval that was!)  Instead of returning to Her vehicle, She leads me on a few blocks, having me pay attention to the way She wanted me to walk from now on, so that when She suddenly shoves me at a passing business, i am totally unaware of what i am stepping into. She whispered hastily into my ear “Disappoint me slave and you’ll begin your walk home like this.”

She pushes me into a tattoo parlor. And the show begins.  She proves to be an absolute force of nature. Somehow, through it all, She manages to convince them to tattoo me. Her initials, permanently etched onto my right ass cheek. Huge, 4 inch letters, the 1st letter turning into the second, and then the second crossed by the third. Very elegant and pretty and all the same, it may as well be a brand. For now i am branded. Marked as Her’s with no way to deny it.

Finally back in Her car once again, instead of being relieved, i break down and start to cry. It’s all too much and i just couldn’t take any more. i begged to be a man again.

“Not yet, my pretty little toy.” She replied with a smile that screamed satisfaction. “I have a job for you. Prove yourself to me and perhaps I’ll be willing to show you some mercy.” When i asked what job i could possibly perform like this, She told me to be silent until spoken to. i obeyed.

After a short drive She pulled over and parked on a long street along the river. She turned off the engine and asked me to come around and open Her car door for Her “like a good little slave.” But before i could cross all the way around the front of the car, a very slow wobble in such clunky heels, i heard the click of automatic door locks locking me out of the safer interior. Through a small crack in the barely opened window, She gave me instructions.

“barbie, as penance for your male arrogance you will spend this evening providing maid services.  This street here is 40th. You are going to walk down it, away from the river toward downtown, until you get to the corner of Payne Avenue. After a while someone will pick you up if you look sexy enough. “

i can’t do this, i begged Her, please release me, but She laughed at me and rubbed it in more.

“Now get going, and I want you to walk REALLY sexy for me. I am going to make a video of you and if you make it good, I’ll see that you are picked up quickly. If you walk like a man, I might think it better that you spend some time at that street corner until you are acting more “ladylike.”

The threat was subtle but terrifying. All the same, i was too afraid to move at first. She just HAD to be kidding.

“Go.” She said, pointing away from Her. “Make it sexy! Shake it for me, sugar!”

She expected to be obeyed and reluctantly i began a slow, clumsy walk. i tried to sway, get those hips moving, but it was killing me to keep my eyes straight ahead, keep moving. i was terrified.

“That’s it, girl. I know you can do it now, give me more!” She was sounding further away, but i gave it my all, starting to get my arms into the rhythm, lengthening my stride, crossing one foot in front of the other in my best cat walk impersonation. My heart pounded with this sudden disreality and i just couldn’t NOT look anymore, and i turned around. And She was gone. i was alone.

I stopped and stared at the empty parking space. The setting was somewhat industrial. Spacious, but the few buildings were big and square and stories tall. There was a chain link fence on my right, a parking garage on the other side of the street and the sun was setting over the river. Oversized hoop earrings bounced against and tickled my cheek. i thought i’d remove them and put them in my purse but i could feel the solid bead of glue holding me prisoner to their constant distraction. The breasts too, were quite the distraction and I tugged at them in vain until I realized someone was watching me from a parked car. Feeling my face go flush, i walked once more, heading for a street ominously named Payne.

It was probably more than a mile away though it seemed much, much longer. i was propositioned once, made fun of on another occasion, but the most terrifying moment was the police car that just tailed me slowly for a long moment. i was too frightened to even turn my head to make eye contact and after a prolonged minute, they must have decided i was harmless, even if somewhat stupid, and drove away.

i guess I didn’t walk sexy enough, because i was at the street corner well after dark. It was just past an overhead train and i tried to cower in the shadows cast by its concrete walls. But i may as well have glowed in the dark and eventually a car full of young thugs thought i might be good sport.

They were out of the car, four of them. Though i was considerably taller in my pink chunky heels it was hard not to feel intimidated. They were black and all in black and wanting to know “what the fuck” and just what i was doing at their corner. i couldn’t find a voice so i tried to walk away from them and almost stepped into a passing car which blared it’s horn.  i was spinning and my head was spinning when another car pulled to the curb ahead. A familiar face struck from the open window.

“Get over here, barbie. Get in!” It was Sherdur. i practically sprinted for her passenger door , a blaze of silky white and shiny pink PVC. Tears were in my eyes, never had i been so deliriously happy for salvation. The thugs were still approaching as i closed the car door behind me. Once again door locks clicked, steel bolts slid unseen, saving me from prying eyes looking in at us.

“Party’s over boys. This bitch is mine.” And just like that my salvation turned on me. “barbie, turn your back to me. Give me your wrists.” i hesitated uncertainly, heart still pounding, not wanting to obey but clearly not able to think clearly because options just weren’t coming readily. “Obey me slut, or get OUT!” She was suddenly loud, imperious. The young men started to back off, jabbering and laughing and shaking their heads, while i sheepishly obeyed. Cold steel clicked icy upon my wrists once more and i remembered marveling on how quick and efficient these Ladies were with the handcuffs and i wondered aloud at their proficiency.

“Slaves are meant to be chained.” She replied. “They listen so much better when there are keys that be needed.” She didn’t stop at cuffs this time. She had me lean forward as she buckled a thick, pink leather collar around my neck, then locked it in place. Then she ordered me to shut up and took me away.

It was overly dark. There weren’t enough street lights. Thankfully, it didn’t seem anyone was watching when we reached our destination. Coming around to the passenger side, i shouldn’t have been surprised when she fastened a leash to my collar. Yet to be pulled out of the vehicle by my throat took my breath away. i was led inside like the captured pet i was.

Inside i was introduced to two men as barbie and i was ordered to kneel before them. When i looked back at her like i thought she was nuts, a kick behind one of my knees sent me quickly to my knees and in a matter of seconds she had used the end of the leash to tie my ankles together. With the other end still attached to my collar, i was still kneeling, but pretty much hogtied and helpless before two leering, strange men and matters kept getting worst. When Sherdur reached for her purse and came at me with a large silk handkerchief and a roll of shiny pink electrical tape, i begged her to stop. Instead she slapped me hard and with my cheek still stinging i opened up to the strange sensation of her fingers penetrating my mouth and the silky kerchief filling my cheeks. She asked one of the men to hold my long hair out of the way as she went around and around my mouth with the squeezy tape, stretched tight as it pressed my lips tight.

When she was done, she fixed my mussed hair and presented me to my new captors. “One bondage barbie, at your service.” She said with a smile, then suddenly seemed serious. “ She wants pictures of barbie getting it in the ass and in the mouth and a picture of both at the same time will really get you guys in Her good graces. Oh yeah, She wants a close-up with cum on the slut’s face. Have fun. Someone will be by to pick her up in the morning.”

And then she left me. i tried so hard to object but all i could do is shake my head and make teeny, tiny little ‘m’ noises and ‘uh’ sounds. And one man went to get the video equipment and the other knelt before me, putting his large hands on the back of my skirt as he pulled me in for a closer look.

“You smell nice, blondie.” He said with a toothy grin and pressed his big stomach against mine. i started to shake my head furiously, hair falling in my face, wanting to scream ‘I AM a MAN, you IDIOT!” But it didn’t come out anything like that. He began kneading the cheeks of my ass, ever more roughly and i could feel my skirt slowly hiking up. He smelled of beer and cigarettes and i was afraid i might retch as he pressed still closer, trying to grind up against me but his stomach was coming between him and his pleasure.

“Your head says no.” he says. “But i can see it in your eyes, slut. i can see how BADLY you need it.” My skirt is all the way up now and he snaps my garters and starts pinching my ass. When i squirm and squeal, he starts pinching harder, clearly enjoying his power and my helplessness. Trying to turn my head away, i see his partner in crime setting up a video camera, mindless of what his fellow conspirator is doing to me.  Grabbing a fistful of my hair, he presses his lips against my ear. When i feel his wet tongue alive inside my ear, i try to scream but my situation is hopeless. Tape squeezing my face, corset ever squeezing the life out of me, this cruel man crushing my very soul, it all becomes too overwhelming and my memory goes black here.

i wish i could erase all the memories of that evening so easily, but there will forever be, long, torturous moments of it burned into my mind. i was a broken man long before it was done. As if i could truly ever be a man again. i doubt it. i am a slave now.

It was Mistress Herself who retrieved me the following morning. i wasn’t gagged anymore, but i was still cuffed and sore in ways and in places i didn’t realize existed till now. She was really pleased with whatever it was that the wicked men showed Her, and She was positively beaming. With a wiggle and quick, click of Her heels, She beckoned me out into the world once more. The sun hurt my eyes and i needed Her assistance to get into Her racy, way too low, sports car. i had very little life in me at that point, more barbie zombie than Barbie doll. i obeyed every painful command mindlessly.

i was still mentally numb when She pulled aside my big, white work van and i obeyed as She commanded me into the back of it. Inside, She removed my locked collar as well as the slender chain about my waist. Then She ordered me to lay face down on the slick, rubber matting. It was cool on my cheek, and hope began to seep back in as i was expecting that the cuffs were finally coming off, and indeed, She did remove them. But not right away. Instead, She hogtied me once again. Not a very stringent one, i could feel knots with my fingertips. But it was Her intent only to keep me helpless just a little while more.

“Stop playing with those knots. Eyes up, look at me.”

My van was tall enough for Her to stand in and She stood over me, Her legs spread, Her ankles solid in beautiful, sexy buckled heels.

“Your things are here in your van. Since you were obedient, you may have your life back. For now, anyways. But I have plans for you. I own you now. There is a video of Me on your phone for you to worship. You will follow My instructions. I have copied the phone numbers and email addresses of everyone listed in your contacts, and I must say that I am pleased with your thoroughness. Your mother and father, brothers and sisters, I saw what looks like business associates and a whole lot of friends.  You know a lot of people. And I am ready to show them all what a cock sucking whore you really are.”

She bends down and shows me a picture She has on Her phone. i cringe because i see my face in it clearly and it almost looks like i’m awash in pleasure at what the men were doing to me.

“I must say I am pleasantly surprised at what a wanton whore you turned out to be. You should prove very useful.”

With that, She stood up, over me and hiked up Her skirt. She wasn’t wearing any panties and what happened next hit me as powerful as a punch to the gut. It felt like a torrent, it didn’t seem possible She could hold that much fluid, but it felt steamy hot as She showered me golden, drenching my hair, splashing my face and mouth with this final humiliation. And She was laughing hard as She went out the back of the van, leaving the doors wide open as i began to frantically pry at the knots keeping me hogtied.

“Obey Me, barbie!”

That happened this morning. It’s late now. i couldn’t go home like this. Instead, i am holed up in the cheapest, sleaziest hotel room i could find. A crowded lobby would have been the death of me in this condition. Thank god i am finally free of that horrible corset; i can actually breathe once more.  And i was finally able to tear away the zippers of the boots, so my toes are free, too. But i have no end of problems now.

i’ve watched the video She made for me, and i am horrified. In it, She forbids me to make any changes to the platinum hair which She feels suits a slut like me. And She has given me a week to make an appointment to get evaluated for sexual reassignment.

i am so screwed. i’ve been tearing at my eyelids, but the thick lashes won’t come free. And tearing at the skin on my chest, but the silicone breasts hang tight and i’m still wearing a bra because the weight of them pulls on the open wounds i’ve made. i have to sit when i pee … i badly need a solvent. The earrings are stuck tight, and though i’ve lightened some of Her makeup job on me, i’ve scrubbed my eyes with soap and water till they are raw and still, that black eyeliner stares back at me.

 i am so screwed. And tired. And hurting. And afraid. And alone. Which is why i am telling my story, here in this strange place. If by some miracle this falls on the eyes of someone who knows me, someone who is familiar with what i thought were my harmless kinks …

Please, help. Help me save me from myself.

19.11.10