Doll Parts (The Game 4)

He set aside the sponge and lowered the water pressure, then poured more body wash into his hand. He soaped himself up, not without rubbing his cock, and he continued soaping me up too.

With my eyes downcast, I watched it all. I watched him get hard, I watched myself get hard, and I heard his breathing accelerate.

“Ahhh, fuck,” he groaned. He pinched my nipples, his hand on me growing more urgent and demanding. He closed the distance between us once more, and he reached around me to knead my butt cheeks. “How I’m gonna use every fucking hole in this beautiful little body.”

I clenched my jaw when I was certain he wasn’t looking. He was peering over me, his lips ghosting along my shoulder, all while he stroked his cock against my belly.

The desire grew so great that I had to tell myself repeatedly to stay relaxed. Every part of me wanted to tense up and give in to the needy trembles. I wanted to let them rock my body and to beg for him to fuck me.

He slipped his hand between my butt cheeks and unceremoniously pushed two fingers inside my ass.

Relax.

“Just perfect,” he breathed. “Tight and always ready. I’m gonna have so much fun with you. Daddy’s little fuckdoll, right here.” He pushed in a third finger and fucked me faster, same pace as he stroked himself off. A low, throbbing burn spread its heat from my ass to the rest of me. “I’m gonna play with your sweet cock every night. Kiss you in all your secret places.”

He was fucking killing me!

His groaning got louder, he rubbed himself up against me, he sucked on my neck, he finger-fucked my ass, and then he was coming. A long moan escaped him, echoing off the walls, as several spurts of come shot out of his cock and splashed against my chest.

Unclench, unclench, unclench! I drew a shaky breath and fought with everything I was to ensure I relaxed my muscles.

“Mmm, exactly what I needed.” He grabbed on to my shoulder and stepped back. And his entire demeanor changed. He went from horny and filthy to strictly business. He soaped us up again, even using shampoo this time, but didn’t bother with seduction or massaging touches. Now he was only in it to get it over with. He was just cleaning off his toy.

He closed my eyes.

With the showerhead in his hand, he directed the spray over my body, down my back, between my butt cheeks, then to my front. He jerked my cock a few times as he washed off the last of the suds, and I wanted to scream at him when he stopped.

“Open your eyes again.”

They flashed open.

He shut off the water and walked carefully toward the towel rack. I kept him in my periphery, partly to be ready in case he needed help. It had to have put a strain on his legs by now.

It was a relief when he wrapped a towel around his hips and leaned against the counter. It was solid.

My hard-on wasn’t gonna go away any time soon. Even when he stood there to the side and brushed his teeth, I couldn’t focus on anything other than what’d just happened.

Exploring objectification was gonna be my new drug. Not only because of how it turned me on, but because I was discovering that his behavior made all the difference. It wasn’t my immobility that turned me into his object. It was how he treated me like one. How he acted. How he behaved as if he was in private, with no one around to judge his actions, with no one around to watch.

Finished with brushing his teeth and putting on deodorant, Daddy returned to me with a towel. He made quick work of that too. He lifted my arm high up, leaving it there, and toweled off my armpit. Then he dipped down and nuzzled the fine hairs under there. And he licked me. Because why not?

“Mmm… Time to brush your teeth. When you walk, do so stiffly.”

Sure thing… My goal was to not look like a waddling penguin.

On the way over there, he grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back.

I fixed my gaze on the wall and kept it there, even when he blocked my line of sight, and he seemed to appreciate that. He tilted his head and observed my face.

“Christ, you’re already turning me on again,” he muttered. He shook his head and grabbed a new toothbrush from under the sink. I supposed he wasn’t gonna get my toiletry kit from my overnight bag.

He didn’t tell me to open my mouth. He pried it open and stepped close so he could inspect his work himself.

“Eyes closed,” he demanded.

I closed them.

Probably for the best. I had to concentrate on not swallowing any water or toothpaste.