“Toy’s story” by Blue Submission

Toys are meant to be beautiful, molded and crafted just for our pleasure. Their shiny plastic, brightly colored silicone and swirling glass surfaces were made just to make us ordinary people feel good.

My toy is beautiful. She is perfection in human form, a doll’s face with long dark eyelashes atop big brown eyes that blink blankly at me, ready to serve. Her long hair flows alongside perfectly sculpted cheekbones, and her pouty mouth opens only for me. She is mine.

Toys are meant to be played with. Their buttons are placed in just the right spot so they can be pressed and turned on, their mechanical insides buzz to life when we want them to and become silent when we are done. They are shaped for our bodies, made to be inserted into warm wet depths, to fill cavities that are begging to be stuffed.

My toy fits me. Her breasts are squishy, filling my small hands, her nipples harden at my touch and poke softly at my palms. Her small waist is perfect for my arms to wrap around, and the swell of her rounded cheeks nestles into my hips when we sleep like spoons. She loves it when I play with her, when I pinch her and scratch her, when I bite the soft flesh of her thighs making her squeak. She’s a good toy, opening her perfect little mouth for me, waiting patiently for my cunt to lower down onto her tongue so that she can lick and suck.

Toys are meant to be cared for. They must be washed clean after use and put away carefully in their drawers. Their batteries must be charged and ready at all times. One never knows when they might be needed.

My toy is always ready for me. She is eager to please me and when I am done with her, I stroke her soft skin and tell her that she’s done well. I wash my fluids from her silken hair and brush it gently. I whisper in her ear as she sits patiently for me.

“You are a beautiful toy!”

 I reward her with kisses on her pretty pussy, dipping my tongue inside and tasting her sweetness, a taste made just for me.

**

I’m going to play with my toy today. She’s gotten herself ready for me, made up just how I like her. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes are bright, her face is clean. She knows not to overdo it. She was made beautifully and doesn’t need decoration. She wears jeans and a blouse, simple and flattering, but I know that underneath is something special, just for me.

She kneels before me, her face turned up, eyes locked on mine, waiting. Her mouth curls up in a shy smile. She knows that I know that she is already dripping for me. I bend down with her on the floor and take her in my arms, feeling her lean against me as if she’s melting. It’s unnatural for me to be in this position of power, to hold someone in my arms who belongs to me. I’m more comfortable being owned as well, and she knows this. Her devotion to me is that much stronger because of it.

Her kisses are sweet, timid at first, working into a passion before her tongue slides between my lips and into my mouth. She makes me feel things, deep down inside my body, and I rush to undress her like a Christmas package. She is a gift in light pink, her pale skin glows like new snow dappled with sunlight. Her nipples wink at me from beneath the sheer fabric, hard strawberry candies begging to be sucked and licked. Her slit, barely visible between her thighs, beckons my fingers to explore.

I lead her to the bed and secure her limbs to each corner. Stretched out like a star, she is bright against the night dark sheets. She wants to be used. She begs for it silently, her large doe eyes seeking mine, looking for answers to unspoken questions. I want to play with her. I want to make her squeal for me. I press my tongue against the soft fabric covering her cunt, finding a pool of dampness. I love the noises my toy makes, soft sighs and peeps turn to needy groans, and eventually she screams. Her toes squinch as I tease her, and her sounds reach a soft crescendo until I pull away, leaving her throbbing and vibrating. I pull her panties to the side and rub the tip of my finger over her opening. She waits patiently, but I know what she wants. I give it to her because I enjoy my toy. I push my finger inside her, and feel her slick walls clench around me. She groans as I go deeper and her hips grind ever so slightly into the mattress. I begin to pump in and out of her, adding another finger as her head begins to thrash from side to side. She’s loves this, making my heart beat fast with pleasure and happiness. She knows that I get so wet when I play with her, that my own cunt is about to burst with need.

This is the hard part. I want to make her cum. I want to watch her convulse on my fingers as they play with her, but she’s a good toy. Good toys get what they want, and she has requested not to come just yet. She wants to be used as a toy should be used. I pull my hand from her sopping slit and feed it to her, making sure she cleans herself off of me. Her big eyes blink in appreciation as she sucks on each finger, swirling her tongue around the tips and between, finding every last drop of her fluids.

I lower myself down onto her beautiful face, smothering her, grinding against her. I can hear her moaning, her muffled sounds fill me with joy. Her tongue dutifully laps at my clit, pokes inside me, scooping up my taste. She knows exactly what I need, varying the speed and pressure, taking me on a ride. Up and down, my body rises and falls with the sensation of her mouth. My thighs begin to shake, a sheen of sweat glistens on my chest, and the sounds I make for her become more desperate.

When I come, my thighs involuntarily grip the sides of her face, squeezing and holding her right where I want her. My screams fill the quiet room. I lift off of her face, glistening with my moisture, and she is smiling beneath me. Her large eyes blink at me happily as she licks her lips like a contented cat. She knows she has made me happy. I lean down to kiss her, tasting myself on her tongue, then I check her cunt. It is just as I thought, soaking wet, dripping and needy.

I leave her there on the bed. As hard as it is for me, I walk out of the room and shut the door. She is spread wide on the bed in the silent room, left alone to pine for me. She asked me to leave her there. She wants to be used like a real toy and then discarded on the bed like a forgotten object.

As I stand under a hot stream of water, rinsing her saliva from between my thighs, she is on my mind. Her face, her hair, her mouth, her body. I miss her touch already. I miss the pleasure she gives me and my body begins to respond again. I dry off slowly, enjoying the feeling of the soft towel on my skin, knowing that if I don’t take my time, I will not give her what she needs. I dry my hair, moisturize my skin and dress myself all while thinking of her, wondering if she’s thinking of me too.

I can’t wait any longer. It’s as if she’s calling to me from the other room. My toy’s pretty voice echoes in my head, but when I quietly open the door, I see that she is still and silent. She is breathing softly, and she’s made a wet spot on the sheets. Such a good toy.

I lean over her, my clean hair brushing her perfect face, and she smiles at me.

“Did you miss me?” She asks, her voice like sugar.

I did. I nod and kiss her deeply. I missed her very much, and I want her again. I’m drawn to her, this thing made just for me. My very own toy.

It’s time for me to show her how much I missed her, and I smile as I scooch down between her wide spread legs.

“What a pretty toy you are.”