How ethereal she looked. The first time I saw her it was like looking at an Angel, she seemed too perfect, to surreal to be here on earth. This place would only damage, tort, twist, and destroy her. I could not let that happen. I cannot recall the exact date that I made her mine, but it has been a while. She was frightened at first, I had to keep something in her mouth to make sure she would not be heard. No matter how many times I took her into my arms to sooth her by stroking her soft tresses, or plunging my fist into her soft pinkness between her legs, she would not stop screaming against the gags. I had no recourse but to cut her tongue out. That took care of the more annoying sounds.
Eventually she gave in, she was broken, just like the rest of us, we are all broken in some way or another. I decided that I would fix her breaks, tears, and broken parts. I laid her down on her cot, unwound the cat gut, took the needle, and stitched up her broken self. From eyes, to mouth, to neck, to breast, to soft flat stomach, to that pink heaven between her legs.
Now that she is forever fixed, the world cannot harm her, and cannot mold her into something less then what she is, which is perfect.
Sin
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