I’m Marie Lennox and I am 28 years old. Many of you reading this book right now just might know me inside and out quite literally. Very few women who are bagged, tagged, and sold like I was make it out as early as I have, if they make it out at all. This is my story, this is my memoir. For those of you who are silencing your conscience by telling yourself “it can’t be as bad as she says it is, this is 5036.” You are absolutely wrong. I have no need for embellishing. Slavery is more widespread than the High Council wishes to believe and brushed under the table during dinner conversations. If my testimony before the Senate had been enough to stir the masses to action I would retire to my small, but humble home and begin a quiet, and for the first time in my life, leisurely lifestyle. God knows I’ve earned it. Unfortunately, it takes far more than a sob story to effect change. Long after this book is published I will continue to fight and will not stop until every last slave girl has been freed.
Many people perceive the “fringe territories” of the galaxy to be a small cluster of dusty deserts orbiting a scorching sun. To a certain extent, this perception is true. However, there are literally thousands of worlds beyond the reach of civilized men where slavery thrives on what I wish were an unimaginable scale. There are entire “slave planets” where women are bred, conditioned, and trained. There are Oasis planets with sprawling rivers, canyons, and plant life that make it easy for any carbon based life-form to thrive. There are also “dairy planets” where groups of humans are dumped, left to multiply, then “harvested” decades or even centuries later. I come from a dairy planet the G1alactic Atlas calls Altair. I used to call it home.
I suppose I’m just going to say everything I want to say without thinking about it. I can trace my fantasies back to 15 years old. I remember I was at a pet store and looking at the puppies. I remember thinking how helpless that animal was and that everybody who came in the store could see it. I don’t know why but that thought stuck with me. It left a strong impression in my head. One night I started thinking about that puppy and how much I would love to switch places with it. I started rubbing my thighs together and I placed my hands inside my thighs and placed a lot of pressure on my twat. After about 15 minutes I went to sleep.
The next day I came home from school and locked my door. I felt embarrassed and ashamed at what I had done the night before mostly because I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it and this time I took things a little further in my head. I pictured myself walking in to the pet store with my head held low and a large fat, hairy man holding a leash around my neck. He walked me up to the register and said something to the clerk. The clerk took my leash and walked me back to a large glass tank. The clerk yanked on my jacket and I let him slide it off. Next he unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall to the floor. Then he took off my shirt and picked me up and placed me in my tank. People walked by and looked at me. Older men would walk up to the glass and tap on it. I could hear some of the older men talking with the clerk did not quite understand what they were saying.
I didn’t realize it at the time that I was fantasizing about becoming a pet or property, probably some of both.
After about 45 minutes of imagining this pet store scenario I was soaked and you know exactly where I was soaked. I didn’t know if this was normal. I thought maybe I was somehow thought that in my head and now that I’m a little older and a little wiser I know that I am part of my head. I know why I was fantasizing about this at 15 years old and I’ll explain that when I get the courage to talk about it, right now and finish what my fancy turned into.
The next day I had some “me” time to get into my pet store fantasy I took things to a whole new level. Last time I so had some clothes on. This time I imagined myself waking up in the morning and left it out of my container by burly pet store clerk. I was helpless, and too weak to do anything against this man. I told myself he could do anything he wanted and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. He reached for my bra and unsnapped the back and let it fall to the floor. He then signaled me to take off my panties and of course in my fantasy I had to do as I was told; I took them off.
The clerk led me to a room with a large metal table and lots of hoses. I was going to be groomed. The clerk left the room just after chaining me to the table. A young woman walked in and up to the table. She started cupping my tits and said to herself “hmm, kind of small.” The girl reached for a pair of scissors and made a small landing strip out of my, well, you know. She would periodically say things to herself like “I think we can get 10,000 for her, maybe 15,000” and after shoving a rubber balloon like device inside my twat “one of the tightest I’ve seen”. She was inspecting me, preparing me, grooming me to be a fuck toy.
This of course is all just fantasy. But I think I want to act this one out. This is how I came to be what I am. A fuck toy.
The first thing I want to say is my name is NOT Marie. It’s the name of a girl who dumped me when I was in high school. I intend to keep this blog private. Don’t ever expect me to post videos of me touching myself or pictures of my latest pain experiments. I’m grateful for the girls like Fuck Toy and Puppy who are willing to share that much, but I am not one of them. This is a place for me to explore my kink safely. I’ve been writing stories in my head and I’m finally willing to share them. I also want a place to write about any future dominant partners and relationships I might have. It’s time to find out where this will take me.
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