They tell you in low, wicked voices how perfect you are for their collection, how pretty you’ll look once your balls belong to them, how eager you are to hand everything over just to stay in their orbit. It’s twisted, playful, cruel, and strangely sweet all at once, because you’re not scared. You want this. You want to kneel between them and give up control in the most permanent, devoted way possible. You’re dizzy with excitement, needy, almost shaking from how badly you want to be theirs. When they finally tell you it’s time, you’re already begging for it, begging to be owned, begging to be part of their little Halloween ritual, completely thrilled to be the newest prize in their ball collection.
