Erotic short fiction: Girl, Modified, Part 7


Rafael settled down against the plush velvet couch in Tori’s vault, as the two women knelt before him, a leash sloping from each of their collars. 


The other parts of this story can be found here.


Eli looked on, trying not to feel either awkward or indignant that his partner now held both women who had been promised to him.  

His wife, starlit eyes and dark hair trailing down her back, and his tenth specimen, pale in every way that his wife was not.  He knew those cerulean irises, because he had watched them drown in pleasure as she had swallowed his cock in the clinic.  A perfect blonde fuckdoll.  

Eli tried not to ruminate on what Rafael had said to him during the auction. 

She’s yours.

Two small words, but now in some discordance, as he watched Rafael twirl the handle of each leash around his wrist, slowly drawing each empty-eyed woman closer to him.  

Eli shifted in his seat, both desperately wanting to not watch Rafael’s small power plays, and somehow unable to look away.  The remnants of his shattered love for Victoria — Tori, he reminded himself, although he wasn’t quite sure why it was important to use her new nickname — sliced along the inside of his veins.  Something like desire and possession for Ten skirted along the edges of his awareness.  

Desire, possession.  Loss.

And then there was the problem of the money.  Rafael’s money.

Again.

Eli cursed himself for repeating this mistake, again. 

He should have known better.  But as he had sat at the auction, it was like he couldn’t say no.  He knew it was the drug.  It had been in the air in the hallway down to the vault, so the very act of breathing brought him under Rafael’s insidious control.  It made him wonder how many other places Rafael had set up to deliver unknowing tiny doses.  

Had it been in his clinic?  Outside the auction room?  

He didn’t know much about the layout of this compound, and that lack of knowledge weighed on him.  Like so many other things.

He took a deep breath, and wondered at the wisdom of that, halfway through.  

Rafael’s dark eyes looked at him, drank him in.  It was like the man could read his thoughts, and maybe he could.  Maybe, after all this time, and everything that had happened – maybe he really could.  

“Eli, you look distressed, my friend.”  Rafael’s voice dripped venom, even when the words themselves were innocuous.  “How can you be anything but pleased, with two perfect sex toys kneeling here?” 

He wanted to tell the other man to go fuck himself, that his wife wasn’t some sex toy.  But Rafael’s words seemed to dig into the crevices of his mind, the truth of them seeping into the anxious, aching cracks of his consciousness.  

He took another breath.  Of course he was pleased.  Some niggling worry evaporated.  He looked at the two women, and then back to Rafael, feeling some tension in his shoulders, ease.

Of course he was pleased.  The women were both beautiful, doe-eyed, docile, and submissive. 

Even now, he tried to remember his wife as the ice princess he once knew, and he could not reconcile it with the look of sheer adoration on her face, as she looked up at Rafael. 

It was like that memory of her, in his mind, wasn’t real.  He began to question if he had just imagined it 

Had he imagined it?

Uncertainty crawled through his thoughts, and he swallowed dryly.  

The chains went slack between Rafael’s hand and the two eager women.  “Tori, darling.  Stand up.  Show the new toy the correct position.”

Eli watched as Tori stood up in one smooth motion, reaching her hand out to the other woman.  She coached the glazed-eyed blonde to stand with her feet shoulder-width apart with her fingers interlaced behind her head.  Tori arched her back to push her tits forward, and the other woman did the same, her pink bee-stung lips parted slightly.  

“Good girl,” Rafael purred.  

Something about his voice both soothed Eli and left him inexplicably on edge.  The words, the tone, seemed meant to calm, but there always seemed to be an undercurrent of insidiousness that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.  

Tori, for her part, looked… transfixed.  

Eli swallowed, hard.

She looked like she was in love.  Eyes dilated, gaze soft.  Breath, in and out in shallow little gulps.

Fuck. His heart wrenched in a new and horrifying way.  A man is never meant to watch his wife look at someone else that way.  And what made matters worse: if either of them noted Eli’s sick realization, or his distress, they paid him no mind.  

Of all the things that hurt, that hurt the most.  

Rafael leaned back on the couch, resting one knee on the other.  “Now, darling.  Turn and look at her.  This is your husband’s masterpiece.”  Then, to the other woman, he said, “Turn and face her, doll.  Do not move your hands.”

As the two women faced each other, Eli saw Tori’s eyes roam over his work.  

A shuddering breath shivered through her shoulders.  There was… sadness in her eyes.

Rafael rested his jaw in his palm.  “Touch her.”

Tentatively, almost reverently, his wife reached out to run her fingers over the curves of her inflated tits, down the line of her flat stomach, and back over the flare of her hips.  She took a step closer, their lips nearly touching, as she traced the line of her jaw and her plumped lips.  The other woman let out a plaintive moan as Tori’s touch outlined every erogenous zone on her body. 

“Is she beautiful?” Rafael asked.

Tori’s voice was nearly inaudible.  “Of course.”

“Now touch yourself.  Tell me what you notice.” 

Everywhere that she had touched the other woman, she mirrored on her own body.  Heavy, round tits, tiny waist, hourglass hips.  She blinked, and swiveled her head to Rafael.  “We’re the same.” 

A smile crawled across his face. “You are the same, though in more ways than you realize.  I hope you appreciate that in all this time we’ve spent together, Tori darling, your husband has been sculpting fuck dolls that look just like you.” 

Eli coughed, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.  

Was that true?

He licked his lips, as he ground his jaw.  Of course his wife was beautiful.  

He knew he had done bad things, terrible things, to put them both in this situation.  But he hadn’t realized just how perfect he truly found her, until this very moment.  

Until the man who had trapped them both, brought this truth to his attention.  

Tori’s eyes moved from Rafael to Eli, like one might turn in a horror movie when you know that the monster is right behind you. 

She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but Rafael cut her off before she could speak.  

“Kiss her.” 

And just like that, Tori turned back toward the tenth specimen, Eli’s fuck doll.  The moment was shattered between husband and wife, redirected and reinvented, corrupted and molded by the smirking man sitting on the couch.  

Tori took the other woman’s face in her hands and pressed their lips together, as she unlaced the other’s fingers from behind her head and placed them around her shoulders.  The two women fell into a sensual exploration of each other’s mouths, lips and tongues nipping and sucking as their hands roamed over each other’s bodies.  They kissed like they were starving.  

And then Eli remembered the drug.  The drug that the tenth specimen had been addicted to, and to which his wife had been experimented with.  The drug that caused unbearable arousal, while making it impossible to climax. 

Maybe they were starving.  

Rafael shifted where he was sitting, and undid his belt.  

Eli could not tear his gaze from the two beautiful women in front of him.  He noticed Rafael palming his hard cock, but he couldn’t make his own hands work.  His body ached, but it was like he had lost the ability to direct his own movements.  His own arousal morphed into a curious frustration, an aching torment.  

“Girls.”  Rafael snapped his fingers.  “Here.  On your knees, both of you.” 

The two women obeyed without thought, breaking their desperate kiss like it had never happened.  They knelt in front of Rafael, who shucked off his expensive shoes and pants. 

They both looked at his cock with hungry eyes. 

“You are both the same.  Both fuck dolls, here for a man’s entertainment.”  He paused.  “For my entertainment, for the moment.” 

Dull fury crept through Eli’s mind, though his thoughts felt thick and slow.  The fury magnified his frustration and amplified the ache.  There was a part of him that wanted to stand up and hit him, to knock that glowering smile off his partner’s face, but there was something that stopped him.  He felt like a statue, helpless bound, as he watched the three of them.  

“Eli, the drug seems to have an unusually long effect on you.  We’ll have to examine that later.”  Rafael smiled at him, but it wasn’t a friendly look.  “Remind me.”  He turned his attention back to the women in front of him. “Both of you are sluts, whores.  Both of you are exactly the same to me.  Repeat.” 

Their voices intermingled into one melodious drone.  “Both of us are sluts, exactly the same.” 

“Good girls.  Exactly the same.  Neither one of you is better than the other, you are both here for my pleasure.  Understand?” 

A two-part chorus of Yes, Sirs fell from their lips. 

“Good.  Now, we’re going to practice.  Tori, since I know how much you love my practice, you can start on my cock.  Doll, get behind her and eat that pussy until she cries.”  

Tori shivered, visibly, but positioned herself between Rafael’s legs. 

The other woman crawled behind her, splaying her legs and pushing her face between her cheeks.  

It was only when Tori’s eyes rolled back in her head and her mouth parted in sweet anguish did Rafael grab a fist full of her dark hair and push her lips around his cock.  Her aching whimpers were punctuated by the sounds of wet gagging, as he breached the entrance to her throat.  

Rafael’s voice was lower, now, heavy and laced with his own desire.  “And then you’ll switch.”


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Photo by Luiz Rogério Nunes on Unsplash


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