How To Clean A Plush Turtle Safely?

️ Content Warning ️ This novel contains explicit sexual content, BDSM, power imbalance, rough play, captivity, obsession, dub-con / non-con themes, violence, dark romance, and mature language. It is intended for adult readers (18+) only. If you are uncomfortable with dark erotic themes, morally grey characters, or scenes of control and possession, please do not proceed. * * I never thought I could live my life this way—on my knees, collar around my throat, begging for the touch of a man who should terrify me. Milo isn’t just any man. He’s the mafia king everyone fears, the devil in a tailored suit. One mistake put me in his path, and instead of killing me, he claimed me. Now I’m his dirty secret, his toy, his pleasure pet. His orders are law. His punishments leave me shaking. His mouth is my undoing. I should hate him for owning me. I should run, scream, fight for freedom. But when he looks at me with those hungry eyes, I crave the cage he’s locked me in. Because being Milo’s possession feels better than being anyone else’s free man.

My childhood friend said that he was connected with the doll. Now that he had lost it, he called me up to cry. One hand held my phone as I consoled him, while the other toyed with the doll. His voice began to take on a more interesting tone with my purposeful touches… I squeezed and pinched the toy and comforted him, “Shh, I agree with you. Whoever took your toy is a terrible person…”

As the Luna of the pack, I was replaced by a giant Plush Wolf Doll. Every night, Alpha Julian clutched it in his arms and fell asleep. Its voice—manipulated by Alpha pheromones—came out in breathy moans like a woman’s, keeping me awake all night. At our son’s first birthday banquet, I filed for divorce. “Maybe that Plush Wolf Doll is better suited to be your Luna. Let’s get divorced—I’m severing our mate bond.” “You’re jealous… of a stuffed toy? Chloe, have you lost your mind?” Everyone thought I was making a scene for no reason. Julian’s Beta assistant, Harper, was especially agitated. “The little wolf pup just turned one! Are you really going to let him grow up without a mother?” “I’m asking for a divorce, not dropping dead. How could he not have a mother? Or… are you getting so worked up because you want to replace me as my pup’s mother? Or maybe replace the plush toy?” Outside, my friend—and lawyer—Victor was already waiting. “I’ve sent someone to dig into it. The truth you want will be in our hands soon.” “Good. Three days from now, in court—you’ll be my lawyer.” I tapped open a strange video. The giant Plush Wolf Doll walked across the room, opened the fridge, and took a drink. But I remembered perfectly—this toy could only make sounds. It couldn’t move, let alone eat. Three days. That was all I needed to prepare. Then, before the eyes of the entire pack, the truth would have nowhere to hide.

At my lowest point that year, I took a job at a pet shop, where I was assigned to take care of a "gentle-tempered" silver-white Alaskan Malamute. Every time I went near him, he would lift his head and bury his nose against my chest, breathing in low, rough sounds that felt disturbingly like a grown man holding himself back. Especially when my hand brushed through his beautiful fur, his body would heat up, and his eyes would darken and burn with unmistakable possessiveness. Thinking he was sick, I rushed to find the shop owner. The owner gave me a long, meaningful glance. "He's not sick. But he only acts like this with you. "You need to bathe him, give him a full-body massage, and try giving him a little kiss. Otherwise, he might lose control." I had my doubts about the whole thing, but I didn't really have a choice. I went along with it anyway. Eventually, I told the friend who had gotten me this job everything that had been happening. After she heard me out, she went quiet for a second. Then, she looked at me strangely and said, "Have you ever thought that maybe you're not looking after a dog at all? What if he's actually a werewolf who can take human form, and he's in heat, using pheromones to mess with you because he wants to… You know, sleep with you?"

My cousin, Isabelle Cox, dies of cancer. However, my adoptive parents, who have always loved her the most, don't shed a single tear. Instead, they go on an overseas trip with my adoptive brother, Cedric Cox. After they return, they give me an exquisite doll and ask me to put it right next to my bed every night. My adoptive mother, Vivian Mason, looks at my swollen eyes and smiles tenderly. "Why, you're such a grateful and sentimental kid. This is such a pretty doll. Let it stay by your side and accompany you like it's your sister, alright?" I agree. Later, my body becomes increasingly weak, and I sleep all day. One day, when I wake up, I am horrified to find that I am trapped inside the doll and can't move at all. My deceased cousin, Isabelle, became "me"! Beaming widely, she cuts my hair and also my limbs one by one. Then, she throws my mutilated body into the fire. As the flames engulf me, I see my adoptive family standing behind her. On their faces, they show happy and relieved expressions. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day when they give me the doll.

Natalie used to hate stuffed animals. Now she's head-over-heels for a cotton doll. She called it "honey" and told our daughter, Yara, it was her real dad. Cool. Guess that made me the family ghost. At Yara's parent-teacher conference, I finally snapped and handed Natalie the divorce papers. Cue the gasps. Suddenly, I'm the villain. She slapped me—full drama mode. "It's just a doll! Why are you being so extra?" Yara hugged it like it was about to save the world, giving me the death stare. I shrugged, smirking. "You're the one who said it's your dream husband and Yara's one and only dad. So, like... why am I still here?"