A Toy's Anticipation
Author's Note: I absolutely intended to get this in for Elle's 2024 kinky scribble challenge, check out the people who managed it here. I am only now two months later working up the courage to post this quick and messy first story, but I hope to post more here in the coming months! This one plays on a dynamic I think a lot about, wherein having agency stripped from you by someone with unclear intentions can be really hot, but in practice, very few of us are as "no limits" as we initially may think when kink space is fun and exciting and new. Often I think "wouldn't it be nice to trust someone so much that they can manage your consent for you, while still leaving you free to experience the thrill of unknowns?" This story is an elaboration on that thought. I worried while writing that it was a bit of a cop-out not to include many specific interactions, but I think it's for the best in this case.
Contains: Ownership dynamics, dehumanization, minor vore-adjacent musings, understimulation, overstimulation, orgasm
“Really? You’ll let me have her?” Stuttered by a near stranger’s voice in eager disbelief. Their wide, gleaming eye filled most of the draw-string opening of the pouch the tiny woman was nestled in. It occupant shivered involuntarily at the attention, heart pounding with uncertainty.
“Only for your birthday, I want her back in one piece, okay?” Another voice, her girlfriend, who was offering to loan her like you might a spare tool. Maybe that’s what she was. The tiny woman wasn’t even entirely sure who she was being given to, only that her girlfriend had a habit of showing off pictures of her friends to gauge willingness for situations just like this. Most days, she was a whole person with a job, hobbies, opinions on world events. But it suited everyone involved that this person-hood could be stripped away so easily.
There was rustling, jostling, the draw-string drawn shut the sound of a zipper opening, then closing. What little light filtered through the fabric before was gone now, pitch dark, voices too muffled to make out. The tiny woman wondered if this was how it felt to be in the belly of a giant. Could she hear a heartbeat if she strained for it? She yearned to act on her impulses, to grind against her palm as her partner, no, her owner, negotiated the terms of her loan. But this was part of the deal. A toy is not supposed to turn itself on, and so its hands were carefully tied across its chest, to be undone only when and if its borrower deemed fit.
The murmurs quieted, and the shaking intensified. They were going home, she was being taken home. She was being taken! Taken by a strange person, picked by the one she trusted most. She couldn’t know what they might do, if they would honor their commitment to keeping her safe, and this too, excited her. Unable to touch herself, unable to relieve the tension, all she could do was anticipate.
She tried to judge by what she had. The timbre of the voice was soft, but slightly husky. She couldn’t surmise much from that regarding gender or presentation. But the eagerness in the tone, the way they’d latched on to the idea of “having” her, and unceremoniously stowed her in a sealed pocket. It wasn’t how you treated a person. But they’d seen her, they saw her move, they must have known she was alive. They were choosing not to treat her as a person. They preferred her as a toy…
And then. A door slamming, a spring in the step, her stomach turning as she was rattled up and down, she felt fingers closing around her packaging, pulling the velvet bag out and resting it in what might be a palm. Fingers pried their way into the opening, the tip of one pressed at her cheek, and even stretched out fully, she only reached the second knuckle. It stroked her body up and down, pinching at the waist, applying that much needed pressure at her groin, a spark of unbraced ecstasy shooting up through her spine and blotting out every racing thought, causing her to buck and spasm at even the slightest shifting of the pad of the stranger’s fingertips as they pulled her out into the blinding light, the sudden rush of stimulation too much to hold back-
She came instantly, too pent up to stop herself, and dangled limply upside down in front of the stranger’s bemused gaze.
“There’d better be more where that came from,” they remarked. “’Cause I spent the whole way back deciding what I’m gonna do to you.”
posted 11/4/2024