Devotee

Your toy studies herself closely in the bathroom mirror, feature by feature, trying to see through your eyes, familiar features in a new perspective. Without makeup, freshly-scrubbed, her skin is unforgivingly lit by the bright overhead light – but her eyes skim over those blemishes and imperfections that would usually trouble her. Tonight, she sees only warm glow on soft curves and planes; the strong cheekbones and jawline you caress when kissing her, that pretty bow-shaped mouth which you so love to taste and fill, those big brown eyes wide and deep, gazing at herself and picturing you beside her.

In her imagination, you regard her reflection steadily as you slide one hand up into her tousled dark curls and grip, pulling her back towards your bare chest, against the warmth of your skin.

At her throat gleams the collar you bestowed on her, hard steel on soft, delicately-meshed links a symbol of the connection between you; a testament to devotion and submission, of claim and veneration. She touches the dangling ring of twisted silvery steel, recalling the thrill that sweeps through her when you hook one finger upon it and draw her closer for you to admire.

Your toy smiles beautifically at her image, lips curving outwards and upwards, eyes shining, lit from within by her happiness when she thinks of you.