“I’m a pretty dolly,” Tina murmured, staring helplessly into the spiral and feeling her consciousness slowly telescope inward. Her body grew more and more distant and irrelevant, one end of a passageway that only got longer and longer the more she watched and repeated her mantra. She could see it. She knew what was happening to it. She understood that the obedient plaything cupping its tits together into a warm, soft valley of cleavage for its owner was, ultimately, still her. But it grew increasingly difficult to believe that she could ever command it. Not from all the way down here.
“I’m a pretty dolly,” Tina recited, her stare becoming fixed and glassy, the spiral blurring into a soft haze as she lost control of the tiny muscles that allowed her to focus her vision on distant objects. She was simply looking out into the middle distance now, her expression slackening into such total emotionless relaxation that her mouth neither smiled nor frowned. Emotions were like thoughts now to her, separated by a vast and unbridgeable gulf by the tunnel leading into the deepest reaches of her own mind. Tina–everything she thought of as Tina–was on one end, and the empty, placid fucktoy of a body she inhabited was on the other.
“I’m a pretty dolly,” Tina slurred, her mouth hanging open and her lips barely managing to mutter out her mantra. She could feel a trickle of drool gathering on her lips, matched by a trickle of musk from her leaking pussy–but even her arousal was abstracted now, a powerful need wrapped up in so many layers of trance that she couldn’t truly feel it, not consciously. Her wet cunt ached for her owner’s touch, just as her broad, puffy pink nipples ached to be groped and fondled, but there was no volition behind her desire. She existed as a thing to be acted upon, and her lust simply waited to be called upon when her owner decided to play with her.
“Mmma… prry… dolly….” Tina mumbled, her mind beginning to empty out so completely that even speech became difficult. Motion had already proved impossible; her body sat frozen in a cataleptic state, legs spread wide to expose her smooth-shaven cunt to her owner’s gaze, hands stuck to her tits in a pose of perfect obedient display. To anyone watching… and Tina’s pussy drooled involuntarily at the thought of a whole crowd of people pleasuring themselves to the sight of her literal objectification… she might have looked just like a very realistic sex toy. Just a set of wet holes for them to fuck. They might never even realize she was human at all. Even from the very bottom of the deep well her consciousness had receded into, that felt pleasantly erotic.
“…prrr… dlll….” Tina grunted, her slack mouth barely managing to form the most basic consonant sounds now. Her chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm that barely even looked like motion to an onlooker, and her mind… her mind had receded so deeply into herself that even if she did think, something she no longer felt capable of doing, she wouldn’t have heard herself. The entire personality of the woman she was had attenuated along the tunnel that delved into the depths of her subconscious, becoming practically homeopathic in its distribution. She was poseable, pliable, tractable, docile… and utterly empty. But to the extent that she was aware of anything, she was happy with the toy she had become.
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