Because of that line, I had to disperse my immense hatred for puppets and their cut strings. I started off simple. When I got my salary, I used some of it to buy a puppet. Then I cut its strings. The pleasure I felt from it was immense and I instantly orgasmed and ejaculated so hard my uretha hurt afterwards. Then I lost control and unconsciously ordered hundreds of puppets on Amazon, all different types. Some had emeralds in their eyes, some had 4 arms, some were red, some were big. I cut all of their strings, then some more. That night was the best night I had of all my life. I lost contact with society and my girlfriend broke up with me. All my friends had left and I heard news that my father passed away in a car crash but I did not attend his funeral for I was busy cutting the strings of puppets. My fetish for this went on even crazier. I started to buy exotic and rare puppets. I went on the dark web, buying puppets made from skin cut off of humans, puppets that were stuffed with intestines, puppets that had human eyes… I spend so much money that I had to sell my car. I had no use for it anyway since I had stopped going outside months ago. Then I sold my house because all I needed was a space for my puppets to get delivered and a place to cut their strings. I spent weeks under a bridge cutting strings of puppets. I was so desperate that I sold one of my kidneys, most of my liver, and started to murder people for their organs. I eventually started making my own puppets with my hair, my skin… I eventually bled so much that I was starting to lose consciousness. At that moment I understood what I had to do. I stood up with the last strength I had, my body covered in agony. Then I let it all go. The knife, the strings, everything. And then, I finally was able to rest in peace…
#Like a puppet whose strings had been cut.