Author’s Note: Given how dehumanized the contact lenses and lips make her look, a spooky objectification story seemed most appropriate. As I was writing it, I remembered one of my all-time favourite lines in an MC story, from Community by Tabico, and it gave me my ending. Having read …
It was all, Sonya reflected, such a terrible cliché.
Of course, no one needs to get a boob job, and no one needs to get lip injections. And, as important as fitness is for your health, no one needs to be spend fifteen hours a week at the gym, maintaining …
“But you can’t actually turn women into fuckdolls. For that matter, what does ‘fuckdoll’ even mean??”
She filled out the dress beautifully. Hands on her hips. Leaning forward slightly. He smirked, mentally replacing her scowl with a come-hither look. It wasn’t hard; he wasn’t even looking at …
The first rule of the job was, don’t get attached. But.
It was one-way glass, of course. He knew that, and knew that not only was she unaware of his existence, every hour she spent in the white room removed her awareness of her world, her past, her self …
She'd felt it as soon as she'd started to do up the zippers.
A tingle, hard to tell if it was in her pussy or just in her head. She'd giggled to herself at first, turned on by her own clothes! She didn't know who'd sent her the gift, but …