I was a man once. That life is gone.

Now I am her rubber creation—her puppet, sealed forever in shining bl*ck latex, hanging helpless from the strings she chose for me. No sight. No rights. No need to think. Just a body she owns c*mpletely, a fucktoy whose c*ck she teases without mercy and whose h*les she uses and fills however she wants.

This is where I belong. I was never meant to stay a man. I was meant to become whatever my Goddess desired, and this is the form she chose. I will stay here.

All I can hear is her voice beside me as she wraps her hand around my c*ck and begins to stroke. That voice melts what is left of my mind, sinking me deeper into rubber-doll bliss with every word. She toys with every part of me, reminding me this is my life now. I am hers. When she tells me she never wants to let me go, happiness floods through the latex like heat.

She edges me with her fingers, then the vibrator. I climb, moaning, desperate—then she stops. Denied. She is not finished with her toy.

Cold glass traces my h*le, kept exposed and available at all times. That h*le belongs to her. The toy slides in, out, every inch felt inside the tight prison of rubber. She f*cks me harder, faster. The truth settles: I am only a rubber f*ck doll now.

I love every thrust. I moan and pray she will let me come. She will not. Not today.

She pulls the glass c*ck free and leaves me hanging—denied, aching, hoping she will return to play with her puppet soon. I wait in the dark like a piece of art in her lair, helpless, until Goddess decides she wants her entertainment again.

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