She had never quite felt right in her life, until she met him. He was the one that told her she wouldn’t be called Danielle anymore, because that was a name that referred to her face, which was as ridiculous as identifying him by his arm. Her names would be Cumcatcher and Fuckballoon, referring to her right and left breast respectively – or rather, *their* names. He always referred to her in the plural – “Could the two of you bring me a drink?” “Both of you come over here; I want to cum on you.” “I think you both need a whipping from my belt tonight…”
It helped immensely. She came to understand that she *was* her tits, that they were the centre of her identity in the way that other people thought of their head as their centre. When she stopped thinking of her identity in her head, she stopped associating her purpose with thinking and speaking and have emotions, and realised that instead her purpose was to be squeezed and tortured and ejaculated on.
Before long, Cumcatcher and Fuckballoons were completely contented in their new life, and finally felt like they had the happiness they deserved…
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“…ridiculous and identifying…” did you mean, as instead of and?
Yes, should be “as”. Fixed, thank you!