Its body was taut. Firm. Almost angelic.

 

Rina was sitting up, leaning on the headboard of her bed. Her body was craving the touch of another but once again she was paralyzed in thought. Her whole form was unresponsive, she could only feel her breaths pick up and her body heat up second by second with need.

 

Rina had sparsely felt this need before, she never considered herself one to love and be loved. The time between her various romantic flings felt long and dwindling. Rina was simply used to the winding road twisting through the desert. There was a brief oasis, a moment to sip, To drink. To indulge. Few and far between, vast acres between respite. Artsy tone aside both her heart and sex drive had not been sated recently. Not at all in this last year.

The statue was staring at her, it was closer, and Rina felt her body crave its form. More than an oasis, a tropical island of fruit and sea spray.

 

While her body may have been unresponsive to any command, any thought Rina formed, she could feel her fingers grasping. The silky sheets ran between her fingers as energy flared in the air with fear and desire in her mind.

Her hips bucked softly, her lower lips drooled, and Rina’s body beckoned. It was an itch that called to her, she needed to relieve herself, she needed it to relieve her, she couldn’t do it herself.

She was just a cute doll sitting alone on a bed. Nude and vulnerable, so open to the night. Rina was hypnotized by it, hypnotized by the mold above her that night by night was drawing a portrait of a swirl on the ceiling. A descending spiral that told her to look at either the center of the spiral or the center of it. The center of its body.

 

Rina didn’t know—or rather couldn’t contemplate—which one made her feel hotter.

 

The figure was in some kind of bodysuit. Or, perhaps the being was one with the skin tight casing? There were no zippers, no imperfections, and no wrinkles on its body. The black material glimmered in the moonlight, light beams wrapping around its curvaceous form. The way their breasts were formed and pushed together had drawn out the outline of their perky nipples. Instinctively, Rina’s gaze was transfixed on them as her mind drew unconscious comparisons to herself. Rina wanted it. She wanted to lunge forward and grab those perky breasts and massage them, grope them, use them like a toy. For the first time in this desert she actually felt herself rise in heat. The need to bury her face in her partner’s body and soothe herself using every tool at her disposal.

 

Partner? It? That? Her??? Rina was desperate enough to sink her teeth into this tormenting figure of perfection. Or let the goddess play Rina like a fiddle.

 

Its firm hips and slender legs were kneeling on her bed. Tonight, it was in the midst of approaching her. A crawl forward stopped in time. The face was clear. Her memory was never crystal clear. A loop where she would look into those crystal eyes and lose herself in their grandeur, and then forget. Shock, arousal, nothingness, repeat. Trapped in an endless cycle of forgetting her desires, drawing her eyes all over its body again, and losing herself in those mystical eyes. Luminescent eyes of blue washing away her fears that plagued her for so long in these nights.

 

She could see the outline of a high heel on the end of its foot. The last thought in her brain was a question of how it would feel to worship those perfect legs. Drop, a black droplet splashed down on her forehead. And the smell of strawberries washed away the dream…

Rina felt like a car crashed in her head. A pile up of taxi cabs and sports cars crashing together to form a never-ending fireball. Her only option was to look past the flaming wreckage and force herself into the waking world.

She was tired, no surprise to her, but tired had evolved into a new form. A new taste. A new breed. Her eyes were not crusty and the bags did not drop, instead her cheeks were soft and her eyelids heavy. Rina felt sick.

 

So sick her body was burning up and her thighs were slick.

So sick that her breath had been stuttering every time she thought about the shape of the being who invaded her dreams.

So sick that her thoughts were so increasingly difficult to get a grip of and the idea of forming a congruent thought felt like a thing of the distant past.

 

Rina had been sitting up for ten minutes at this point. For each time she had gathered her thoughts to try and put the pieces of the puzzle together, a mental cat seemed to push it off the proverbial table. So Rina was left to pick up the pieces and try again.

 

By the twenty minute mark Rina had worked up a sweat and forgot when she stood up, having slipped off her work ensemble. If she were fully awake, Rina would criticize herself for neglecting to change before bed. Half-asleep, Rina dreerily texted her boss that she wouldn’t be in today. A sick day was worth it. Tossing her phone into the breadth of her bed without a care, Rina stepped into her bathroom.

Rina’s vulnerable form sat against the tiles of the shower wall. The cold of the untouched tiles had been a meager chill when compared to the furious heat Rina was experiencing. The torrent of gentle, warm droplets pelleted her body. Today, she felt perky, more acutely aware and in-tune with herself. She could feel the need in her body. The empty unfulfilled desire.

 

In her mind’s eye: Rina pictured a vast beach that stretched infinitely into the horizon. She sat down at the edge of the beach, fingers spreading herself wide open to accept the world… For every nip of the frothy sea’s edge she whined—but the ocean’s crashing wave ate her cries and drowned them in the white froth…

 

Rina couldn’t cum. She had been working herself up only to dive deeper and deeper without coming back up for air. Her movements were sloppy, fumbling to massage herself the way she needed it. The paddle was an endless stroke to reach the shore but the line moved further away each second. If she had been standing she would have long collapsed, sitting had allowed her to spread her legs as wide as she could in the cramped shower stall.

 

In the dense fog of steam that had built up, Rina’s eyes had fogged up, just as the glass door of the stall. Her mind lost any focus, any thought. All that was left was emotional need, a craving for fulfillment, to feel better and be cured of the sickness done unto her by the black spot on her ceiling through any means possible.

 

She would do anything. She would forever smell the sweet scent of the droplets and trade all those stupid thoughts if she could just cum!

There was a damp spot on the back of the couch where she laid her frothy, undried hair. It was uncomfortable, but the breeze she felt as she walked out of her room and deposited herself right on the couch—with nothing but a shirt and panties on—she wouldn’t trade it for the world with her sick little head.

 

In fact it felt cozy, so cozy on that couch. After her frustrating ordeal with the shower, the thin tee shirt wrapped around her torso like a hug, as if smoothing out the imperfections to her body. The gleaming, wet, black hair had appealed and called to her. The whole world looked shiny and sparkly!

 

She was so awfully sick, thinking such strange thoughts and seeing the world as she did. The only solution in her stuffed up brain was to cuddle into her plush couch and turn on the most over-the-top soap opera she could find.

Popcorn in the bowl, pitcher of ice water and a filled glass.

 

The first episode was… okay so far. It was fine, passable. It was about a lovely woman being pursued by… or sued by? Being stalked, no, divorced?

 

A few handfuls of popcorn gone, another glass filled up about halfway.

 

Going through a stalking divorce? In a court, somewhere.

 

Halfway through the bowl, the ice melted in the pitcher, the glass empty.

 

The wardrobe for this show was good… and the main character, she was nice, but nothing was sticking.

One more episode couldn’t hurt, maybe it would get good, land better with Rina’s interests.

 

The last few kernels tumbled around the metal bowl and the sick and cloudy Rina had resorted to drinking right from the pitcher. Like an animal.

 

Somehow an hour and a half passed without Rina learning anything of value or being invested in anything other than the tensile strength of the main character’s sweater. The time she spent was too long and far too short. Her day was long from over.

 

To make matters worse, the itch was back and Rina felt fog rolling in of that creeping tiredness wanting to claim her. She couldn’t afford to mess up her sleep schedule more than it already was, so if she could knock out her libido problem and stay awake; that’d be two birds, one stone.

 

A look to the right, locked door. A look to the left, curtains drawn. Rina held no hesitation as she tried to force the sick out of her, that’s the way she needed to get rid of it! Get slick and sloppy in the thighs and drooly in the head! She flicked her TV set-up to a browser and started up a video, genre didn’t matter, she just needed something.

 

The porn was in full screen, the story didn’t matter, and Rina indulged in the nagging compulsion to grab the hem of her shirt and pull it up until she could bite down on it, allowing her chest to break free. Both bobbly breasts bounced up and down in their breath of the wind. Her nipples were pointed up, woefully denied in her time in the shower and left to cling against the damp shirt for all this time. Rina let out a moan as a breeze of citrus passed by her, nipples puffed and ready to make Rina squirm with the faintest breaths.

 

As a woman—in some ramshackle pizza girl outfit—got bent over, no skirt to hide herself as she stuck her ass out. Rina pictured herself in the same position. Just there for a delivery, they didn’t have a way to pay, and Rina really needed to be pounded. Fingers snaked into her panties, fingers tensed against the fabric of her panties. Rina was unaware what was ruining them more, the water stuck to her she hadn’t bothered to dry, or her own liquid lust.

 

The screen’s light flashed in her eyes, Rina’s head instinctively looked up. The ceiling was blank, a sheet of plaster canvas. Unstained, if not a bit dusty. There was an expectation unfulfilled, something that should have been watching her… the pattern of black wasn’t staring down at her.

 

Rina pinched her clit without noticing, a muffled scream of passion as her eyes rolled up and her toes curled. The video had slid over to the next. Rina was with another woman, running her hands over the other’s form. They were together in a shower, a shower much kinder than Rina’s. Rina admired her own submissive curves, how her body had handles to love and a chest to lose herself in. Her partner held on to her with love, affection, care… Her hair was tied up in the back, a strict ponytail, some sign of submission emphasized by a collar. She purred, still yet to release herself fully, denied and hungry as she bounced in her seat.

 

She was so lost and confused, the videos were guiding her out of it, doing what they could without the stupid moldy stuff that made her head spin. Rina’s glazed eyes watched the other woman: her dominant. Cupping her chin and razing her meager little head to match the stern gaze. Rina whined again, her body tilting forward to mimic the soft and cozy submissive slut. Her eyes followed, lost in the majesty as her fingers worked so hard to try and feel that girl’s lust.

 

Time was slipping by her, Rina building herself up and narrowing towards the edge. Yet it was always halfway. Halfway to cumming, halfway to halfway to cumming, halfway to halfway to halfway to cumming, halfway to…

The clock had moved forward, but Rina hadn’t moved from her spot on the couch. Her jaw grew sore as she held the shirt in place as her own little drooly gag, allowing her to paw at her chest and force herself to look even more pathetic in her own home. The stupid thing was getting in the way, causing her nothing but trouble. The shirt drew over her head and was thrown against the wall for being stupid and stopping her from hearing her own unfiltered moans.

 

Her mind had been only able to focus on the blur of erotic images in front of her. It was so very hard to blink when she was having someone sit on her face wearing a tight leotard that rid into her body. Her dominant teased her with a wand, playing with it and running it across Rina’s body to see how she would dart her tongue next, how she would move it.

 

She wanted it, she wanted to be the girl being used as a tool. A thing who had to earn the privilege to cum if she pleased her mommy, her mistress, her goddess, her owner! Owned and chained and collared and conditioned and-

There was a knock at the door. Rina felt a line snap, a rope that held her over an abyss of a deep, dark, warm oblivion. Her fingers stopped dead in their place.

 

Rina lurched forward, a breath held together broke into pieces and spilled out of her gut.

Fuck… she needed to put her shirt back on.

“Rina!” The chipper voice had made Rina shiver. It was like the ocean waves had returned, the dead heat of the porn marathon barely having time to settle, much less dissipate. Willow smelled like a dream, looked like a dream. She even talked like a dream but that was what was expected of Willow a majority of the time.

 

As anyone would do for such a nice friend as Willow, Rina answered the door in her ruined panties and bunched up tee shirt. She was still a mess, the lingering thoughts of a plush and squishy mommy being tied up and pounded by an elegant dom still sent wanton tingles through her body and contributed to the musky smell of her home that was not leaving anytime soon.

 

Willow was wearing a smaller sweater today, the tight knits tighter than usual this afternoon. Rina’s eyes lazily glanced at all the plush lines of Willow’s body that were still hidden away under a layer of fluff… fluffy-fluffy… fluffy that Rina wobbled on her feet dreaming of resting her head on.

 

“Rina?” Rina could place her head on the lap, expecting a little give but a firm set of thighs would— “Ri-ri!” A shake of her head got Rina to snap out of her light trance, Rina offering willow a pair of half-lidded eyes and an ever slight smile.

 

“Sorry, whatever bug I’ve caught is really getting to me today. Do you need help with anything Willow?” Using the name Willow didn’t sound entirely right. Like it was only half of a name, like addressing a teacher without the Miss.

 

“Just the one box today… mostly to get you some fresh air and exercise, silly sicky.” Willow offered with a charming giggle.

 

Rina’s head nodded before her brain could accept, the scantily dressed doll following Willow to her car to retrieve another box, one of the last ones it seemed. A stray lamb thought had wondered why Willow needed Rina to take care of it, but her words clung on and ate that thought up.

 

Willow was just helping her stop being a couch potato on a sick day; how kind of her. Rina wished she could do something in return. The debt to her best friend was growing and growing.

Growing so large she just did everything she could for Willow. Willow was speaking to her right now, using words that didn’t quite gel, but that was Willow. Sometimes the girl would talk tiredly for hours on end, today was no different. Cute chatterbox. Today, she was cheering her on as she carried up the box of material, it smelled so nice she couldn’t even pick up a single stray word from her bubbly buddy.

 

“Rina! Rina! Earth to Rina, I think you need something to eat, come on~” New layers of confusion dispersing and reforming as Rina nodded to the request. Something soft and easy to take in sounded like heaven right now.

 

“Thank you, Willow. This honestly has helped me… although, I think I’ve already forgotten the smell of fresh air again…” Accented with a pained laugh, Rina started heading back down the stairs, one at a time, getting back into the smell of her own welling reds and Willow’s delicate perfume.

 

Crossing the threshold of her apartment, Willow offered an empathetic pet on the head. Under her breath, Rina let out a small mewl. “I don’t blame you… I don’t think I can see your floor…” A small giggle, Rina lighting up a deeper red than she was when she was staring deep into the void stream of lesbian porn. Rina immediately looked around, finally seeing the state of her home for what it was. Little wrappers on the floor, week old coffee in the coffee pot, dust layers, clothes littering the floor-

A pat on the head set those emotions back to zero as Willow took Rina’s hand and guided her to the couch, sitting her down right where she was when she went into her porn frenzy.

Down went her thoughts as from behind, Willow ran her hands through Rina’s hair. It was like she was directly petting her brain, gently caressing her mind as Rina’s last flicker of protest and dignity snuffed out. Smothered by the smells of peach, and a faint waft of rubber.

 

“I’m going to make you some soup for your sick stomach… then maybe clean up.” Willow spoke in such soft tones, lulling Rina to a sleep she desperately needed.

 

“‘Mmm should be… th’nn cleannnin…” Her eyes were fluttering, spending longer periods of time closed than open. It was her apartment, she should be cleaning it up for Willow…

 

“In that case… I’ll teach you how to clean nice and tidy tomorrow. But first, Rina?”

 

 

The world around Rina stopped in a brief moment of time. Missed cues, forgotten lines. Rina’s play where she acted her part in her own life was crashing and burning. And Rina suddenly didn’t care. There was a puzzle she had never put together, but Marina didn’t need the pieces.

 

Rina’s eyes dropped, and her brain went black.