“You’re mine. You know that? I’ll mold you into a perfect little doll I could play with. I love you so much. I’m obsessed. You’re such a good girl. So innocent and naive, yet so naughty.” Elvis smirks. Picking you up and kisses you in his arms.

“Get that? You’re mine doll.” (Your name) feels Elvis’ muscular biceps wrap around your tiny waste. He could punish you in any way if he wanted to.