by Michael Jade
Short Fiction/ Paranormal/Erotica/Dubious Consent/Bondage/Voyeurism
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Excitica
An erotic short story...
DUBCON: tied up whether she likes it or not! Christina is an
assistant for a straight-laced boss, one who seems to enjoy screwing up her
after-hours naughty plans by sending her on ridiculous errands. The worst is
when a night of clubbing turns into a trip to pick up a gift from some weird
doll shop…until she discovers that work and pleasure can be tied together in
the most bizarre and erotic way.
Excerpt:
She heard shuffling sounds, just out of sight. Someone was in there with her. “Hey!” she cried. “Who’s there? Driver? Is that you?”
She almost called out again, but snapped her mouth shut. What if she was attracting the attention of whoever had tied her up?
Again, the sounds of fast scuffling, almost like a small animal scurrying across the tiled floor. Christina’s eyes welled up with tears, fear threatening to overwhelm her. Paranoia was setting in—she could swear she saw one of the dolls turn its head to look at her. She became aware of all those eyes again, how it seemed like every doll had its head turned towards her.
Christina’s entire body jumped when she felt something tugging at her blouse from the sides. She looked down with a gasp to see her blouse being tugged, the fabric pulling tight across her ample chest, the buttons on the front of the blouse straining. “What the hell?”
She tried to wriggle and shake away whatever was near her, but her struggle failed to dislodge the unseen visitors. With a sharp tear, the fabric gave way, buttons flying. Her breasts, heaving within a red lace bra, rose and fell in the half light. Christina’s eyes darted around, desperate to understand what was happening. Was she losing her mind? Maybe that was it. She’d snapped under the stress.
Christina saw them at last, or at least, her hallucination came to light. One on each side of her bra, using the straps to climb atop her chest, two army dolls, the kind a young boy would play with, dressed in fatigues with painted-on beard stubble and little belts with toy pistols strapped to them. As she watched in utter disbelief, the military dolls went about their mission to climb up her chest, gazing down at her with impassive, unblinking eyes. She couldn’t breathe, could barely even think. She had slipped and hit her head, right? That would explain this wild hallucination. Sexy boy dolls didn’t come to life and help themselves to unsuspecting girls. At least, not since she’d hit puberty and had indulged some inventive and twisted fantasies involving the dolls she’d been rapidly growing out of playing with. That was all this was. In her concussive state, her brain had combined the presence of dolls with her horniness to conjure up the only memory it had involving the two.
The soldier dolls turned from her and focused attention on her breasts. Small, plastic hands pressed and prodded the soft flesh, exploring. The tiny hard hands made their way boldly across her chest, sliding into the cups of her bra. With surprising deftness, they plunged inward, cold, hard hands sending tingles of sharp pleasure through her when they reached her nipples. They hardened to their touch, one soldier attending each nipple between his two capable, strong hands. Yes, she remembered this.
Despite herself, Christina let out a soft moan as her nipples were tugged and pulled by the two dolls. One pinched hard, and her eyes rolled back in her head.
“God, yes,” she heard, realizing it was her own voice.
