|| 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖈 𝕷𝖚𝖘𝖙 ||

Ｉｔ Ｄ ｏｅｓｎ＇ｔ Ｅｎｄ Ｈｅｒｅ

The teen sat in the same disgusting bed he always laid in, the one designed for pleasure only, not comfort. He stared blankly at the ceiling, numb and unresponsive to everything as he just wanted to be alone right now.

A prostitute's life was never easy, especially his.

He was abandoned by his own flesh and blood onto the dirty and unforgiving streets of Japan at the age of ten. He survived for two years, often getting rapped or used because of his curvy body, looking like a little fuck doll anyone could play with. He was abused on the streets, always having visible hickies and love bites. After all, everyone probably thought he was just a whore dumped onto the streets.

What was worse is that he barely could move, almost completely starved out and was so vulnerable to rapists that didn't care about his health. Some did take pity after they were done, throwing him cash and spare change.

That was his way to live, letting people fuck him for money.

Or course, two years later he was found by a rich man... the owner of an underground prostitute and fuckdoll house. He was taken in, cleaned up, and introduced to a whole new level of filth. He was turned porcelain and delicate for rough sex- or as he saw it: rape. He was forced to wear pretty pink dresses and a face full of makeup, cherry red lipstick and fake blush for when his face grew paler upon seeing each customer that ravished him.

He wanted so desperately to run away, even attempting it several times... this only earned him a guard. Hw watched him all the time, He even touched him, the teen's height of 5"3 making it easy for him to be pinned down. He had no breaks...

Even when he wasn't dealing with a customer, he was being used as a cock sleeve by his guard. He hated his life.

When he started cutting- they didn't stop him, they only forced him to cover them with foundation or gloves.

When he started drinking? They started to encourage it when they realized he was so lewd and erotic when he was wasted... though this always made him sick.

He was done.

The teen developed another side to him, slowly driving further down the rabbit hole...

He felt like he was finally in control of his life.

The teen made sure to smile nice and sweet, planning a list in his head, everyone thought it was just him finally accepting his life. Still, his guard didn't go away. He made sure to touch up to him, grinning all doll like, holding onto his mask till he could strike.

The teen planned it all... though the only blade he had was the dull card board cutter he used for his wrists.

He giggled to himself, coming back into reality. Though, this attracted his guards attention.

"Whatcha laughing at, Doll?" The teen knew he was merely a plaything to the man, he didn't like this...

Still he pretended to puff out his freckled cheeks in an adorably embarrassed way, despite being seventeen he only looked fifteen and younger, and even then he looked like a girl, "Am I not allowed to laugh?"

His small voice chirped, he rolled into a sitting position, tilting his head in an inquiring way.

"Not normally.." He crawled over to the teen.

He twirled his longish green hair, unruly as ever. It was silky soft as to his Boss' liking, as he said: 'Its better for when customers want to use it as a handle.' The teen didn't enjoy the reasoning but still liked his hair.