Helga in the Mechanical Dollhouse
I bring Sweet-Pea up into a hip lift and she springs up perfectly, smiling into the dark. I swing us around to the sound of applause. Avis mirrors me on the other side of the stage, and we both smoothly bring our partners down across our bodies into a dip. I bring her up against my chest and our eyes connect. Sweet-Pea’s smile looks forced to me. Probably because I’m the one paired with her this eve, instead of Avis.
Avis is with Ethelinda, our tattooed beauty, which makes sense. Ethelinda – being around my size and height – was going to need Big Girl Avis to lift her up. Surely Sweat-Pea understands that too. Though having the object of your infatuation dance with someone else is enough to make anyone hurt, but having to dance with your antagoniser of all people, well, it’s just adding salt to the snail.
My grin is not forced.
The routine is relatively simple, and yet the two newbies paired together at the back are still behind. Well, not behind, but they’re movements are so stiff they might as well be doing a completely different dance number. I’ll have to punish them for it, later.
Avis and I are in drag, though Avis pulls it off far more convincingly. I’m very clearly a woman in a suit. It’s not like we’re trying to fool anyone with a proper cross-dress, we’re just meant to look good. I blow a few strands of hair out of my face only to have them fall back and catch on my lip. I leave it and take Sweet-Pea by the crook of her knee and guide her into another dip. Her head throws back, allowing me to admire her thin throat for a second. It’s glistening in the stage light. She must be sweating away all her lovely perfume. The scent is intermingling on the air all-round the stage. She chose well, I don’t know the name of it, but it’s doing weird things to me.
That’s nothing new though, everything about her does weird things to me. Her eyes, her nose, her little voice. It’s like finding a cute puppy. A little fluff ball with a smile and big, wide eyes, that’s just so adorable and pure you don’t know what to do with yourself, so you grit your teeth and tense your fingers and all you want to do is ‘crush the puppy, crush it, squeeze its little head in!’
Maybe I’m just a bad person. The notion has struck me before.
Backstage after the show, we’re cleaning off our makeup. I watch Avis through my mirror. She takes her top hat off as she slowly reads a note in her palm. She looks around to make sure no one’s watching her, missing my gaze. Thinking that she has an opening, she slips away. No one besides me sees her go, and even Sweet-Pea looks a little lost for a moment when she notices her friend is gone.
I leave as well. I know exactly where she is, what that note said. I walk purposefully down the hall, down the stairs and into the storage room next to Roxanne’s office. There’s a brick wall separating us, with holes in the mortar. I squat and peak through a crack.
Roxanne has her wearing an anal hook this time. It’s attached by rope, pulled taunt across her back and connected to a collar. Her strong throat tenses underneath it. The veins are protruding in her neck; she must be on the verge of unconsciousness from the lack of blood flow to her brain.
Roxanne has her on the couch and is pounding away at her dripping sex. Nowhere to go for the butch, not with her legs tied together like that, clamping her pussy even tighter down on the glass member. From the sounds of things, it’s catching her g-spot.
So, Roxanne’s switched things up and gone for glass this time. I know that it must feel silky smooth, warmed from the submissive dyke’s internal temperature. When Roxanne cards her nails through Avis’s casino siteleri hair, Avis closes her eyes and gives this content, toothy grin. She’s so absorbed in her role as the MC’s whore I don’t know if she even realizes she’s not that special.
Roxanne had been keeping that puppy close to heel ever since the bath incident. She wasn’t subtle about her favoritism either, at least not to me. It wasn’t out of jealousy or mistrust she kept Avis so close to her, oh no, that’s not her style. It was the simple fact that she could that she did.
I’d been in that room multiple times, just like the other girls. I’d knelt on that rug and fantasied about her lifting that skirt up for me.
I was her favourite before Avis. I’ve had my face forced between her legs, had been impaled on more than one of her ‘trophies’. I’ve had her nails card through my hair and electrify my scalp as well. Now it’s over…I’m just another one of her girls. Now it’s Avis’s turn.
‘You’re not special, there have been others before you, Avis.’ That’s what I want to tell her. I’m not bitter about it though, I was never interested in Roxanne romantically, but the sex was good. Though I’ll have to admit, I can see Roxanne has taken a liking to Avis a lot quicker than expected. Maybe there’s hope for the girl. Who knows, but I’m not putting money on it.
After a while, I grow bored of the show and head back upstairs.
_ _ _
Winter. The fireplace is crackling but it’s only warm on one side of the sleeping quarters. There’s an unspoken hierarchy in who gets to sleep closer towards the fire and who gets to freeze. Usually it’s the green beans, only moving their way up as they earn it.
Avis sleeps at the very, very end. Usually. She’d be curled up against the wall, rigid as one of the bricks and never complain. She’s our newest, after all, and our toughest. However, it seems she lucked out. Roxanne has already taken her into her bed for the night before lights off.
My nice, warm bed was given up a while ago for stepping out of line. I’m making good progress though, still an alpha cat, still on the warmer side of the quarters and inching my way ever further up the ladder. In fact, I’m already ahead of Sweet-Pea by one rung.
I have my back to the fireplace and I can very faintly feel it’s warmth at my neck. Everyone’s asleep already, the crackling pop of firewood sent them off with a kiss into stressful dreams. We’ve pushed our twin beds together into Siamese pairs, the especially friendly girls got as many as four or five teams of beds.
I’m paired up with Sweet-Pea. Her back is to me and she’s almost hanging off the edge of the bed trying to stay away from me, curled tight in her blanket. I’m staring at the nape of her neck, and at the lithe muscles of her back under her nightgown. I wonder if she’s cold.
It suddenly strikes me; I could do anything I wanted to her right now.
Big Avis isn’t here, and the others don’t care. It’s a common occurrence to hear hushed moans and slick sex making noises. It would be child’s play. If I moved just a little bit closer, we’d be like fitted spoons.
So I do. She lets me press myself flush against her back, with an arm slipped over her. I pick up the sound of some soft breathing. She’s asleep and delightfully warm. There’s still some traces of her perfume left on her skin, and I’m gritting my teeth from trying not to do anything I’ll regret.
I feel her stir a bit and she sounds so happy, despite having me so close. I know the exact moment when she realizes it too, because that’s when she stills.
I say, “You smell nice.”
She goes to say my name, but can’t seem to get canlı casino it out.
She tenses at the touch of my lips on her shoulder. I slip a hand under her gown. She pushes back into me in her efforts to escape my fingers. I slip my hand further between her thighs, venturing up until I reach the core of her warmth. The heat of her is so intense there, it feels like my fingers burn at the touch.
I hear her swallow as I rub small circles on the hood of her clit.
“Helga…” she whispers, “…don’t.”
I put my lips to her ear, “I can feel it’s erect.”
I pull the hood back and touch the swollen nub directly, and she clinches from the over-stimulation. I roll on top of her, forcing her onto her belly and trapping her with my own body. My hand is pressed between the bed and her stomach. I keep rubbing her clit, faster now and I feel that she’s wet.
“Helga…” Her voice catches on the name again, and it sounds like a whimper, “..Helga…”
“Louder, sweetness,” I tell her.
“No…” She buries her face in the pillow.
The more she fights against it the closer she gets to orgasm. I can feel her body coil tight as it builds in her. She’s letting out these delicate little noises, so desperately controlled…
“Good girl,” I say, as her climax approaches, it’s teeth at her shoulder, about to bite down and have her, “Good girl…that’s my good girl…”
“A-ahhah…!” She finally let’s go.
she squirms underneath me, a new gush of fluids on my fingers as I crush this little puppy. She’s finally working with me, seeking my fingers with her hips, baring her neck to me. I bite and suckle the skin she offers and it’s as soft as a confection. She rides my fingers, her bum pressed up against my pubic bone. Her orgasm tears through her, to the point I’m convinced she’s falling to pieces.
Then she drops to the bed, panting, exhausted. I flip her over onto her back. The look she gives me is unguarded, her face is flushed. Now that she’s had her fun, I cover her mouth and pull down the collar of her gown to reveal a breast, cupped by the neckline. I’d caught glimpses before, but she really is beautiful. Her large areola is a soft peach, blending into the rest of her breast. I can’t help it, I put my mouth on her. Her breath catches in her throat.
As I suckle on her nub to erection – which doesn’t take long in the cold air – I slip my unoccupied hand down my own pants and quickly try to rub one out. Heat flushes through me as she moans into my hand. I’m so turned on I can tell it won’t take long.
“You’re so beautiful.” I mutter, breathing warm air on her as I change over to the other tit.
She gently touches the hand over her mouth. I’m not taking my hand out of my shorts. I’m still rubbing my clit like mad, and I’m just on the edge, I can feel it, teasing me, but it’s just not quite…
Then I feel a tongue in the groove of my palm. I don’t know if she’s responding positively, or if it’s a childish attempt at grossing me out, but it gets me over the edge. My climax turns me into a bit of a monster, roughly gripping her face and humping her thigh and biting into the tender flesh of her breast. She squeaks at the treatment I’m giving her.
When I’m done, I let her go, admiring the marks I’ve left on her, before rolling off and saying, “G’night, sweetness.”
I don’t know if she realises we’ve swapped sides, so that she’s on the warmer. She doesn’t say anything. I settle down into the sheets and listen to the crackle of the fireplace. She shifts in her sheets, and let’s out a shaky breath as I drift off.
I don’t remember how I got here, but now I’m dancing on stage.
The kaçak casino girls are in cages overhead. There are tables and chairs on the roof, as if the room were upside down. There are doors too, high up on the walls, and the cages are moving through on hooks. They enter through one gold door, and leave through the other. Churning out beauties in this giant machine. I’ve seen such a mechanism before when working in factories as a kid. I nearly lost my fingers. It’s an overhead conveyor belt.
I see Avis in one of the cages coming through. It’s barely big enough for her; a leg dangles through the bars, swinging slightly. She’s wrapped in red ribbons, pulled taunt across her skin, across her chest and between her legs. She’s the only one who’s wearing anything at all. They’re all naked besides her.
Then I see Sweet-Pea coming through in a cage as well and I develop tunnel vision. Now it’s just me and my little Sweet-Pea, in my own room. Our room, I think. She opens her legs to me, and I slot myself into her. Fucking her. It doesn’t make sense, I don’t have a cock, yet she’s gripping me and feels so wonderful and tight and warm. I cum inside of her and she overflows. Then I wake up.
It’s early morning, biting cold. The windows have a sheen of morning dew on them. I try to fall back asleep, but then realize I have work to do.
I’m one of the first out of bed it seems, which is no surprise. I slip out for a quick walk across the grass. I fill two buckets full of water from the bathhouse. One cold, one warm. I get dressed and make my way back into the sleeping quarters with the buckets on a carrying pole. One of the dancers is awake and shaving her legs with a straight razor. She looks up at me bemusedly. I walk on by, all the way to the end.
The two newbies are sleeping peacefully together at the back. They seem so content in their own little corner of the world. I set the pole down and smile, before lifting the cold bucket up.
The moment the water splashes them, one starts kicking and screaming, while the other curls up into a wet ball and tries to disappear from my sight.
“Rise and shine, girls! It’s laundry day!” I splash the second bucket on them. The hot one.
“Stop!” The kicker squeals, “that’s Avis’s job!”
“You see Avis around? I don’t. Now get to work, sprouts. You can warm yourselves up in the soap water while you’re washing the cum from my sheets.”
They finally get their asses in gear after a bit more prompting. Or threatening, as some may call it. I watch as they run, dragging their wet sheets across the floorboards, bundling up the sheets from my bed as well. In their hurry, they nearly sweep Sweet-Pea up with them. The girl gives them a pitcher of pity each from her endless fucking fountain before looking at me. But her eyes immediately drop to the floor. She’s making a point of avoiding my gaze as well. It hurts, but I can’t blame her.
I track the newbie’s water trail. I’ll have to find something to flog them with; a ruler would work, but maybe I could borrow a cane from the costume room or – looking at the carrying pole – yeah, maybe one of those would work. It’s a bit hefty though. Mid-thought, I feel a hand at my arm and my head whips around.
It’s Sweet-Pea, still looking down despite confronting me. I’m left waiting for her to speak. I like her but she’s wasting valuable time I could be spending grooming the new bloods.
“Do you hate me?” She whispers.
“No.” I say, and I make it sound matter-of-fact.
She dares to look surprised, “I thought you hated me.”
“No, I don’t, why would I?”
She shakes her head, “you always make fun of me…”
“But last night…”
I pull my arm out of her clasping fingers, “Don’t let it get to your head. Go have a bath.”
As I leave I can feel the warmth of her smile at my back like the heat of a fireplace.