Slowly that sparkgave way to hatred and then depression. Then, as another year and then anotherpassed she forgot her depression, resigning herself to being forever frozenin time; a display piece for the husband she had once loved. When this transformation took place she could not say. All she knew was thatshe no longer feared nor hated her life, such as it was. Eventually she cameto love Roger again for the attention and care with which he took care of her.Occasionally she wished that she could do something to help him or show herappreciation for him. Then she would remember her station, sighing inwardly. ?Iam only a doll' she would think to herself. Roger, for his part, took the care of his ?Kaitlin Doll? (as he now referredto her) quite seriously. When he was not working on the yard or otherwise entrenchedin the general maintenance of their home he took great pains to ensure herwell-being. Often times, after her ?feeding?, he could be found reading a bookto her. Other times he. I was her Achilles’ heel she’d tell me from time to time. Usually it was while putting her clothes back on, like right now. I lay on the sheets, just watching her dress, my naked body covered with our perspiration and cum, a satisfied smile glowing on my face as she’d pause, a rare haunted look in her clear blue eyes. “Baby,” (She always called me baby, never used my real name, Shannon. Okay, that’s not totally true. There were other names she called me in the throes of passion. Her dirty little whore, her slut, her fuck doll, but afterwards, it was always ‘baby’.) “Why do I keep coming back to you? Anyone finds out, my career is toast.” “Because your husband doesn’t let you do this, Abby.” Wincing softly, I rolled away from her so that she could get a good look at my ass. It was bright red from the paddling she’d given me. I could still feel the heat in my tender flesh spreading down my thighs and translating in my pussy as pleasure as I did my best to point at my cherry red.
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