Emily and Victor

Victor Franks walked up the stairs, unlocking his bedroom door, and then unlocking the closet door. His most precious possession was behind these doors, locked in an ornate chest in the closet.

He wouldn't call it a partner. He wouldn't call it more than an it. He guessed if it had to have a formal name, it was a Gimpette.

He didn't trust it much. He bathed it and fed it and watered it and brushed its teeth and hair. It had big, ridiculously oversized breasts and an ass, and thick duck lips for sucking dick.

He used it as a party trick, for perverts that needed to get off. And as he offered it his cock, and as it sucked at him greedily, an ounce of him almost felt pity on it. It'd been a loyal servant. It'd just made a mismanagement. But as he started to skullfuck it, he remembered the prize he'd lost, and he hardened against what was once Emily once more.