The room was dimly lit, filled with the sound of soft moaning and rhythmic slapping. In the center, a beautiful woman sat on a chair, her legs spread wide open as she prodded and pushed a teddy bear against her sex. The bear's name was Teddy, and he had been living in this world of sexual servitude for months now.
With each thrust of the woman's hips, Teddy's head disappeared into her wet, warm folds. The pounding against his stuffed body was intense, but he was not allowed to make any noise; it was one of his primary duties. As he jiggled up and down on the woman's lap, he couldn't help but think about his previous uses.
He had been fucked by men and women, beaten with whips and chains, and even used as a punching bag. But the woman's treatment of him tonight was different. It was final. He could feel it in his battered stuffing.
Suddenly, the woman stood up, still impaling Teddy onto her sex. She walked over to a nearby table and picked up a sharp knife. As she approached Teddy, his eyes widened in terror. She raised the knife above her head and brought it down, slicing open his chest.
Hot, sticky fluid poured out of the wound as Teddy screamed silently. The pain was excruciating, but it wasn't over yet. The woman grabbed handfuls of Teddy's entrails and started ripping them apart, tossing them aside like used tissues. Blood ran down his mutilated body, staining the woman's thighs and the floor beneath them.
Teddy's eyes pleaded with her to stop, but she ignored his silent protests. She picked him up by the neck, her grip firm but not cutting off his air supply. She dragged him across the room to the toilet and tossed him inside. The lid slammed shut, trapping Teddy inside the small space.
As he lay there, his destroyed body aching, Teddy heard the woman's high heels click against the floor. She hovered over the toilet, pulled down her pants, and sat down. The bowl filled with a dark, warm liquid as she relieved herself, and Teddy knew what was coming next.
A sickeningly familiar feeling washed over him as he felt a warm, heavy object fall onto his already ravaged body. He didn't dare look; he didn't want to see what it was this time. All he could do was lay there, broken and used, as the woman finished her final act of disgrace upon him.
With a flushing sound, the woman washed her hands of him, literally. She stood up, wiped her hands on a nearby towel, and walked away, leaving Teddy in the darkness to ponder what had happened. The teddy bear knew that his time was over; he had been used and abused for far too long, and there was no going back from this final scene.
As the water rushed around him, Teddy felt a moment of peace wash over him. It was over. He was free. Or at least, he would be once he was thrown away, forgotten about. And with that thought, he drifted off into a broken, stuffing-stained sleep.
