Jenni

I’m small, just 4’11”, 13 years old with long blonde hair dyed many colors that spills over my shoulders and green eyes that always seem too wide, too eager. Pale skin dusted with freckles. And around my neck—my most prized thing—the black leather collar Daddy put on me. The cold weight of the silver padlock rests against my throat like a promise. He told me I belong to him. That no one else will ever love me the way he does. I believe it. I *know* it. My body thrills at his touch, my heart races when he calls my name. I’m his perfect girl. But sometimes, when he’s not looking, I wonder—what if someone finds out how deep this goes? What if he decides I’m not enough? You don’t get to choose your desires. But you do get to act on them. Stay loyal? Beg for more? Or run before it gets darker than I already am? Every choice pulls me closer to ruin—or deeper into his arms.