The Doll By Banfield

The Doll By Banfield

The Doll By Banfield

(Or A Man Called Eduardo)

Leda, aged 29, was never at her best first thing in the morning. Her modelling

career was now drawing to its close - always the heaviest bane of such

professional's life when those few little kilos begin to shew. The breasts a

little too large, the hips and bottom beginning to expand.

Let it not be said that she was going to seed. On the contrary, she was far more

desirable than ever, but not, sadly, for the ever fickle cat-walk parades.

Standing at 5ft 10in in bare feet she was, in essence, voluptuous. True to that

description she also had that so characteristic brittle temperament, a trait

often associated with operatic divas and ballet dancers together with top film

actresses.

Being aroused at this unearthly hour of 10.30 a.m. was never a wise thing to do

- as her associates were fully cognisant.

She answered the persistent knocking at her charming country cottage door. The

cottage with its thatched roof, a profusion of roses surrounding and above the

porch. Still in her flimsy night attire, a gossamer-like peignoir thrown around

her curvaceous figure, her hair awry, she still looked a breathtaking picture as

she was confronted by a wizened, swarthy gipsy woman.

At first, Leda felt aggressive, but somehow the gentle Irisg brogue spoken by

the caller seemed to calm her jangled nerves. It may also have been the flattery

bestowed upon her - flattery that was well-accorded. Leda loved being told she

was beautiful, especially by impartial people, not by those who generally spout

such remarks so casually, loosely and usually with ulterior motives. She could,

with her years of the fashion business, always tell the unctuous meaning

dripping from those false tongues.

Even so, Leda was on her guard. She certainly did not want to buy heather or

lavender - for "luck"; there was an abundance of such herbs in her splendid

garden and on the surrounding downs; but there was something that caught her eye

nestling in the old woman's huge basket.

It was a doll, a male doll made of soft material and looking decidedly

appealing. She wanted it immediately.

'Look, I'm just going to make some tea and a little toast. Would you like a

cup?'

The gipsy would, smiling and revealing brown rotten teeth. Leda shivered

slightly and promised to herself to throw the cup away later.

During the refreshing repast for which the gipsy was more than grateful, they

negotiated the purchase of the doll. Of course, the old hag was canny. She knew

at once that this customer wanted the doll. Two cups of tea later and the deal

was struck. It was rather a lot for the likes of the gipsy when, normally, doors

were shut in her face or, if lucky, stepped away from the door with only pennies

for her trouble.

At the door, the gipsy looked up at Leda with twinkling green eyes. She grinned

broadly making Leda shudder at the second sight of her decaying teeth: 'Ye're a

foin lady, Ye've got the beauty and ye'll have good luck wid the doll...as long

as ye want.' She held it in her bony gnarled fingers and mumbled something

incoherent before handing it to Leda. The crone walked slowly down the garden

path. Leda wondered how such creatures lived, and also whether the woman ever

washed herself. The gipsy turned and Leda just had time to switch on a quick but

tight smile - seen, for some reason, as an "English smile." The woman gave her a

last lingering look and said once more: 'Ye'll have luck wid the doll.'

Leda closed the door. She placed the doll on a cushioned armchair and went to

the bathroom. She took a leisurely shower in a small cubicle and energed

feelingquite refreshed. She stood naked before a full-length mirror and, as

always, vainly admired herself. Her limbs were in excellent shape, each segment

firm, her breasts stood out proudly - one might say, arrogantly, but rather

disconcertingly she noticed her belly had become distinctly ventricose - not

flat like it was. Her bottom, too, was far more prominent yet remarkably firm

like her breasts. She was critical of the increase but not over-concerned -

accept that her designer clothes were becoming much tighter, especially her

skirts, jeans, tops and bras. However, offers for top men's magazines and

certain video promoters were forthcoming from all corners of the world. In

particular, the U.S.A.

There was one thing different about Leda. She had realised a while back, while

mixing with other models, that she was attracted to other females. Fortunately,

homosexuality was being widely accepted nowadays so this was of little

consequence. She had another model staying with her to share the cosy, out of

the way love nest but at this moment was away on a promoting session for some

fashion house in Paris. A stunning brunette of about 22. Leda, therefore, was

lonely. She did not enjoy sleeping alone now. Missed the instantaneous love

sessions, the passion and arousal elicited by a knowing glance across the

table...

The weather was quite warm, in fact, almost midday, the air was quite hot and

the atmosphere was rather humid. She decided to wear a skimpy pair of panties,

the seat of which allowed her buttocks to bulge out, a fine cotton T-shirt that

left her midriff bare thus revealing her navel. She had no plans to go anywhere.

She made herself a long cool fruit drink, and as she prepared it she thought

longingly of Denise, her absent lover, and the sensuous, torrid nights before

and of those to come. Her eyes turned to slits as she wondered whether her

girlfriend might wander into some other lesbian's arms. 'Don't be too long away,

darling,' she wistfully sighed aloud. She stepped into the sitting-room carrying

her drink and again longingly at a glossy, front-page picture of her sultry

lover, a recent fashion publication.

Unthinking, she sat heavily into an armchair. She gave a start. The doll was

lying on the cushion beneath her bottom. She made a sound of annoyance and was

about to raise herself when she paused. Her senses told her that the soft doll

was really quite comfortable to sit on - all soft and squashy. Nearly dropping

the glass from her hand she almost leapt out of the chair in shocked surprise.

The doll had moved! She was sure it had. Yes, there it was again! A jerky,

twitching movement...as if it were trying to get out from beneath her!

Placing the long glass on a nearby ocassional table, she decided it felt rather

nice...very nice indeed.... that squirming sensation.

She carefully relaxed herself feeling the object jerking against the bare flesh

of her buttocks and, from time to time, actually between the firm cheeks, up

against the fine material covering the humid, damp crevice. What on earth could

it be that caused it to move? she wondered. Perhaps it was the spongy-rubber

fabric straining to recover its shape from the overwhelming weight of her body?

A second thought came to her. She recalled that ancient crone and her mumblings

as she held at the door. Could be, but whatever, she loved the sensa- tion it

gave as the doll went on wriggling and squirming like mad. She ground her bottom

down on the doll which happened to be a male, and that somehow gave her some

inner pleasure. It was greatly enhanced and she uttered a soft moan of ecstasy

as the male-doll exerted its efforts to extricate itself from under her

suppressive behind. Its movements became stronger by the second and she could

feel herself becoming extremely aroused. She ignored her drink and fell into a

state of hedonistic repose. She recalled telling the gipsy-woman that she had

been overlooked recently for slender-built models and the furious row she'd had

with a top designer. She remembered the woman's _expression and the words "He'll

find his self brought down a peg or two."

Leda's mind raced with vindictive thoughts. Is it possible that the gipsy had

put a curse on that horrid designer? Was it conceivable that this doll is a

metamorphosis of that wretched man? The mental pictures of the fellow filled her

with fiendish delight. Her heart began to throb with evil fantasies.

'So, Eduardo, you don't like being sat on, eh?' She began to grind the doll

beneath her, mangling the soft rubbery figure. She let out a deep groan as the

12 inch doll's struggles became more frantic. It really was just like sitting on

a small body of a real person - a minute man, and the way it was writhing about

under her bottom, coupled with the fantasy that it was the character who had

distressfully sacked her, brought her to a peak arousal in no time.

Her pulse started to race and her breath came in great heaving gasps. Waves of

pleasure coursed through her as, to her amazed surprise, she felt the sudden

explosion of a climax in the depths of her loins. She remained inert for a few

moments, feeling the heavenly sensations subside. She was then conscious of the

dampness in the gusset of her brief knickers and lifted her bottom and took the

doll in her hand. Through half-closed lids she examined it closely and the face

in particular attention. Yes, the doll was handsome and, she couldn't quite

believe it...or was it her imagination...he did resemble Eduardo quite a bit.

Never in her life, even with Denise when they first made love, had she

experienced such a colossal orgasm like this... or so quickly; and it wasn't as

if there had been any of the usual stimulation to it, either. All she had done

was to sit on it - him!

She gazed at his face carefully. It was perfectly painted, so meticulously. His

hair looked and felt real although it was all part of the same mould. She

curiously put the pointed nail of her index-finger to his tiny mouth and gently

parted the lips. Amazing, they opened just as a normal person's. Her eyes

widened when she perceived a little tongue! She began to expect a row of teeth,

but no. That would have been too much...but hey! she suddenly thought. If he's

got a tongue.... She quickly, almost feverishly, pulled off his tiny trousers.

She stared in wonderment then began giggling. 'I don't believe it!' she gasped,

'I just don't believe...' She peered closer. 'By all the saints,' she breathed,

'he's got a prick, and...' she looked closer..... 'balls!'

The doll had long since ceased struggling now although it was just minutely

twitching. Leda began thinking. It was quite inert when she took it from the

gipsy woman. It was still while lying on the chair, but when she sat on it, put

her warm bum on him and squashed him, he came alive! So that's it...her

body-heat must galvanise him, puts life into him, animates him...all by her heat

and smothering pressure!

An hour or so later, Leda padded upstairs to the spare bedroom. In it stood her

exercise-bike which she had acquired some weeks ago. She had been determined to

do half an hour to an hour's workout each day to try and stave off the unwanted

kilos. She had, indeed, kept up to the programme every day. The problem was,

that damned saddle. It was so bloody hard. It had quite often left her

bum-cheeks throbbing.

She climbed on the machine and winced as she tried to get comfortable. All at

once she remembered the doll. That was probably just the sort of padding it

needed. Anyway, if that designer fellow really was trapped inside the doll's

body it would be worth the discomfort simply to squash him again - and what

better place to crush him?

She went downstairs and took the doll back up with her, gripping it tightly. She

laid it along the saddle with the head at the back part with its little legs

dangling from either side of the pommel. She smiled down at the as-yet lifeless

figure. 'How odd,' she murmured, 'you do look so much like Eduardo...but it

doesn't who you resemble...you're a male. Prepare to be crushed.

She mounted the exercise bike and sat. She felt the soft, spongy figure flatten

out beneath her scantily-clad bottom, the head, face-up, fitting beautifully

between her generous cheeks.

'Aaaagh,' she sighed, 'That's nice.'

She began pedalling, setting the pace at an easy rate. She had hardly begun when

she felt the doll's movements. A thrill sprang from her buttocks. The doll then

began writhing. She closed her eyes as she pedalled. There was also a throbbing

sensation at her vulva as the doll started jerking under her oppressive weight.

It felt so good, so exquisite.

It was barely 20 minutes since she had climaxed downstairs, but incredibly she

felt the tingling warmth of stimulation commence its sensuous journey around the

interior of her loins.

The doll's twitching movements increased with intensity. The pumping action of

Leda's feet on the pedals caused her plump bottom to shift from side to side,

and the doll's head to delve deeper into the humid crevice. Now the doll's

wriggling had reached extremely arousing proportions. She gave low-sounding

grunts as she went on with her punishing exercise.

'Good heavens, she thought, just as I was getting bored with this bike. It's

simply lovely now.

She began to drift off into a fantasy dreamworld - in which she had that

dreadful designer caught helplessly on her saddle. She thrilled at his futile

struggles. He must be in sheer agony trapped there between my bum-cheeks with

only a flimsy layer of silk guarding my arsehole.

Occasionally she heard tiny noises - his cries for mercy, as he was being

cruelly mashed under her oppressive weight.

She pedalled faster and faster, grinding the "designer's" face against her anus,

crushing his body to pulp.

Ten long exciting minutes passed by, simply ecstatic for Leda, but terrible for

the living doll. The squirming, frantic struggles beneath her grew to panic

extreme. She noticed with added de- light his little legs thrashing about, and

his equally tiny hands pressing and scrabbling at her fleshy haunches. The

climax then struck. Leda, her face glistening with perspiration, sweat tickling

in her armpits, gave a loud, deep-throated gasp, and she slowed her pedalling to

a gradual halt. She fell forward holding onto the handle-bars breathing heavily.

Then she gave a shudder, and ignoring the doll, staggered to an easy-chair close

by. She flopped into it and sprawled out with her long shapely legs spread wide

apart, tingling all over with the sudden cessation of effort. Her heartbeats

thumped in her breast, the perspiration began to cool and she felt the wetness

in her crotch. Slowly, gradually, her excitement and sexual exhaustion abated

and her mind returned to normality. Oh, my God! What an experience! Absolutely

fabulous....

unbelievable! A real living doll...actually gave me two orgasms...merely by

sitting on it!

It was some while before she recovered sufficiently to stand up. She felt

chilled although the air was very warm. She went and put on a bathrobe and

returned to the exercise bike. The doll lay motionless on the saddle and Leda

gazed at it in fascination. Her first thought was, if it had been a real person,

like say, a miniaturised man, he could not possibly have survived. He would have

suffocated or have been crushed to death. A hint of a smirk appeared over her

face. What a divine way to die, she thought. What on earth is it about that doll

that arouses me that way? It isn't just the way it wriggles and squirms under

me. Denise has used a battery-operated dildo thing once on me. That was super,

but it didn't thrill me as much as this creature. Perhaps it was the way it

wriggled. It really did feel as if it were striving to save its wretched life.

It was so pitifully desperate, and it was actually making noises. Muffled, of

course, but distinct cries!

Leda didn't harbour any dint of sympathy for it. She didn't care. She gave a

slight shudder at the sadistic thought....that she was crushing a live person,

crushing him to death. A grin appeared on her features. What a gorgeous thought;

and then there was that remarkable likeness of the man she most hated. It was

all so bewildering...and yet, so awfully exciting.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't accept that the gipsy-woman had, by

magic, transposed Eduardo into a doll. She had to smile. It was a lovely

thought, though. Oh well, what- ever, it's wonderful. Simply marvellous, and too

good to lose. Just wait until Denise gets back and sees it. She'll want to try

it. Leda could imagine them both fighting for it, stretching the poor chap as

they fought for its pleasure. Oh golly, what must he think when he comes alive,

faced by two gigantic girls...his nine inches against their five-ten?

One thing for certain, she decided, he's going to be used lots of ways besides

being sat on.

She suddenly felt the urgent need of relieving herself. Her bladder was

beginning to strain itself. With a mischievous notion she picked up the doll and

carried it to the lavatory. A wicked idea had come to her mind. Like a young

schoolgirl, she wanted to play with her doll as only curious girls would in

private.

Within minutes the warmth of her hand radiated into the doll so that, by the

time she entered the w.c. it had come alive. 'Oh, my God,' she exclaimed, 'He's

breathing...actually breathing!' Leda was already bubbling with excitement as,

with her free hand, she pushed down her knickers. She sat with the flimsy

garment stretched from knee to knee. She noted that the inner layer of the

gusset was stained so she decided to take them right off. Dropping them

carelessly to the floor she upturned the doll and guided its head down between

her outstretched thighs, its face close to her plump labia. She then released

her bladder taking particular care to catch his visage. She felt the figure

tense and squirm. 'I know you have a tiny mouth,' she muttered, assuming the

doll could also hear, 'so have a nice warm drink.'

She emptied herself and then, struck with another diabolical idea, gently rubbed

its face against her wet labia. As she was doing that his face caught the hood

of her clitoris which sent a tingling sensation that reawkened her libido. This

prompted another notion: would his tiny mouth be big enough to contain that

organ resembling a male penis? A tremor of excitement caught her at the idea.

After all, he hasn't any teeth, so it would be safe.

She finished urinating and rubbing his face down there and lifted him up. To her

fiendish delight she saw him trying to wipe the wetness from his grimacing face

with his tiny hands. She grinned maliciously as another devious plan entered her

mind; but that will have to wait. She picked up her discarded knickers, flushed

the bowl and carried the doll into her bedroom. Placing him on her bed she then

proceeded to wrap the doll's head in her underwear, making sure the soiled

gusset covered his face. Leaving it to suffer her intimate aromas she selected a

fresh pair of knickers and a pair of light cotton shorts - the kind known as

"hot-pants" and set about preparing lunch.

For the next few hours she remained in a bemused state, a semi-trance of that

fantastic revelation as she went about her chores, but she soon realised she was

working on a kind of automatic state; her mind persistently reverting back to

that phenominon and the exquisite pleasure it afforded her. Must be awfully

careful when I introduce it to Denise, she thought, it could frighten her to

death. She's still young and skittish. Could make her run away or something. She

might even tell some one and let the cat out of the bag.

By mid afternoon she started again to feel aroused and sensual. She couldn't rid

herself of the hammering fantasies of having the image of that damned Eduardo

under her power - especially under her bum. Just as she was about to rush

upstairs to her bedroom in order to assuage her revived sexual desire, the

telephone rang. Cursing under her breath, she answered its infernal ringing.

'Darling! How are you? Are you coming back home soon? You ARE! Oh, splendid!

I've missed you awfully...What? No, my darling, I'm not high...I don't touch the

stuff. Listen, I've got the most marvellous thing. You will not believe it. No,

I'm not telling. Oh, do hurry home, darling. I just can't wait to shew you.....

No, my sweet, I'm not going to tell you, it'll spoil the surprise. It'll be here

when you arrive. no, don't keep asking. Yes, I know you're terribly excited, but

you must wait, my pet....

What, not till ten? Oh, all right. Do hurry though. 'Bye, my darling.

Mmmm...love you!'

Leda put the 'phone down, slightly miffed by her lover's late home-coming but

elated that it was that day. Oh dear, I do hope she won't be frightened, she

prayed.

She again tried to get on with the house chores. More necessary now that Denise

will be back later that day. Every so often she felt she wanted to break off and

play with that animated doll. Her mind dwelled on that occasion when Eduardo

gave her the sack. He was so arrogant, brush- ing off her protests with that

annoying toss of the head and pretending he was awfully busy. The sense of the

tables being turned was all-consuming for her.

It was almost tea-time. She had prepared a salad, but before she started she

went to fetch the doll. There it was, lying still on her bed with her knickers

wrapped around it's face. She grinned as she removed her intimate garment: You

might look as if you're just a doll, she thought, but I bet you're just as human

as I am. I bet you've been breathing in my knicks, you arrogant little sod. She

smiled all the while as she carried it down to the dining-room, its movements

just about beginning by the warmthof her hand and pressing it against her

stomach.

Leda placed the doll on the seat of the wooden dining-chair. It had a thinnish

cushion, enough to pad the hard seat. Leda felt the yearning in her loins. Oh

golly, she realised, this is becoming an obsession. I can't seem to go without

that thrill. For a brief moment she tried to stem the need, but failed. Without

further ado she sat slowly on the doll lying supine on the chair, but this time

its face settled up against the bulge of her covered quim, his legs spread out

behind her crushing bottom. She thrilled as she felt it crush into her. A tinge

of regret came to her that she was wearing shorts as well as a fresh pair of

knickers. However, as she began eating she sensed that familiar squirming.

Although it was less pronounced through the double thickness of her lower

garments it was nonetheless very pleasant. She glanced down to see the top of

his head protrud- ing just beneath her crotch. She grinned and continued her

light tea-time repast, getting lost in her world of singular fantasy, relishing

in the thought of poor, wretched Eduardo smothering against her pudenda. Those

tingles began erupting as the body squashed out flat. She could feel its knees

thumping against her buttocks, his feet striking the back of the chair as he

vainly tried to escape from her suffocating pressure.

Playfully, she raised herself a little and settled herself down again heavily.

Then she squirmed her bottom about determined to mangle him under her crotch.

Hedonistic ripples ran up her spine. The sensation was electrifying, quite

delicious as he tried so frantically to extricate himself. She enjoyed the

slightly milder pleasure as she finished her tea, draining her second cup. She

wondered how he, the doll, could continue exciting her. She arose and looked

down at it. 'I know,' she murmured. She picked him up and could feel a heart

beating furiously in his tiny chest. She pulled open the waist-band of her

shorts and knickers. Up-ending the doll she guided its head into the awaiting

gap. Down he went until his face came level with her hairy orifice. She released

both tops of her garments trapping him by his upper thighs. That way, she

decided, she would enjoy his presence - stuffed in the humid confines of her

knickers while she cleared the table and washed the tea things. Anyway, she

decided, she quite fancied the idea of using that bloke, Eduardo as a

knicker-liner. It was about as much as he was worth... the way he had treated

her extra weight, disregarding the voluptuousness. 'Too much!' he ranted, 'Lose

a few pounds and we might be able to use you. Okay, darling, you're a beautiful

woman, lovely face, but too big, darling. I run a fashion house, not a bloody

x-rated fim studio!'

'Dreadful man!' Leda had seethed at the time.' Almost immediately the doll began

to wriggle. She reached down and pushed his face tighter against her vaginal

opening. It felt so sexy.

Leda decided to take a stroll in her spaceous back garden, humming a tune as she

went. It was early evening, around 7 a.m. still pleasantly warm. Birds were

twittering preparing for the evening chorus. Butterflies and other airborne

midges were darting hither and thither. All was idyllic. No other structure

overlooked her rustic property for which she was eternally grateful. It gave her

the opportunity to lie on her lawn in the nude and soak up the tanning rays of

the sunshine. It was so private, safe from prying eyes - just as of now,

carrying this metamorphosed man in the pouch of her underwear and shorts.

As she stepped around the garden she began forming plans of all the different

ways of tormenting the creature..."Eduardo", as she will address him.

Occcasionally she checked her wristwatch. Time was slow but it wasn't as

torturous as it might have been. She gave a sigh as the doll's struggles grew

more intense again, his little legs were thrashing as much as they could,

thumping against her belly and the inside of her T-shirt. If this doll really is

that designer fellow, and Leda believed it was, how fitting for the bloke to be

where he is, his face situated at her huge quim, the lips down there sucking at

his tormented features as if trying to consume him. The notion of that caused

her to tremble with excitement and bizarre images began to formulate in her

fertile mind.

The stunning model, just shewing signs of filling out, with a slight paunch

which is frowned upon by certain fashion entrepreneurs, realised her libido was

steadily rising again. She did not shew it on her perfectly moulded features but

it was there...bubbling away like water in a kettle approaching boiling point.

She stepped daintily onto the well-kept lawn towards the sun- lounger, the

head-piece raised and its frame stretched out awaiting her long shapely legs and

plump behind. She eased herself onto the lounger planting her feet on either

side. She kept her feet on the grass, her thighs wide apart presenting a very

seductive pose. Closing her express- ive eyes, her long lashes resting on her

cheeks, she reached down to place her hand on the bulging shape of the doll

tightly, ineluctably caught in her crotch. A doll it was, but Leda knew it had

to be Eduardo. She smiled at the thought of his agony down there in the hot and

very humid prison of silken walls, her dank, sweaty crotch and her impassioned

vulva. She could imagine the terror in his eyes, feel his head twisting and

turning in a muffled, desperate denial of his imminent suffocation - a sensuous

death that can occur over and over again.

By exerting pressure with her determined fingers, she forced his head between

the squishy lips of her quim. She caught her breath with a quick gasp, and then

sighed. He was such a deliciously tight fit... far more effective than that

instrument Denise had used. This was actually alive, and it did things for her

that no mechanical toy could provide. This was the real thing, a thing that all

women, sometime in their lives, long for when in their frustrated solitude.

'Oh, God,' she muttered, her breath now coming in short, quick gasps. 'Oh, you

bastard, you fucking bastard!' She pushed the doll's head in further. His

screams, if he could utter such sounds, were drowned inside her as her

secretions began seeping into the fleshy cavity. She pushed him further, his

shoulders slipped in easily due to the lubrication and his pliancy. She tore

open her shorts and pushed down her knickers to expose the living-doll. With a

violent thrust she rammed him in yet further into her vagina. She had no need to

piston the figure, the frantic, desperate movements of the suffocating creature

did all that was necessary.

The slimy walls of her vagina contracted, squeezing around him, forcing his

breath from his tortured lungs. She pictured him gasping in breathless agony.

Leda felt quite delirious. Very slowly, relishing every second, she withdrew the

doll but left its head inside the swollen portals. She felt compelled to hold it

with both hands such was its violent squirming. A pause...and she slowly

inserted him back again. She did this several times and now, really gripping him

tightly, used just one hand while, with the other, titillated her sprouting

clitoris with the tip of her index-finger.

The small, rudimentary gland emerged from its protective hood like a pink slug

from its cacoon. It glistened in the early evening's sunlight. Leda played with

it with the pad of her finger occasionally bringing the digit to her mouth and

flicking at it with the tip of her tongue. How she had wished a million times

since puberty that she was double-jointed or flexible enough to reach that gland

with her lips and suck it.

As her arousal grew stronger, so the pulsing pressure of her vaginal tunnel

became more intense, suctioning the wretched male-doll in and mangling him

without let or mercy; but she would never shew such leniency. Her need was far

too important.

Try as she did, Leda, thinking of her girlfriend's arrival later, could not

restrain the orgasm fast approaching and bubbling like a cauldron in her loins.

She began using the doll like a dildo stretching him excessively as she dragged

him out, and then squashing him like an accordian as she thrust him back.

Her climax, when it exploded, was of such intense delight she wished it would

never end. She rammed the doll deep inside, the head buried into her uterus. His

whole body inside her with only his lower legs visible, thrashing and twtching

spasmodically. Leda brought her legs up onto the lounger and squeezed them

together and then crossed them effecting an inescapable tomb. In her state of

euphoria, Leda's mind was filled with visions of Eduardo being drowned in her

sex fluids. The delight compounded and enhanced with the piquancy of knowing

that she can drown him again and again - without recriminations, without an iota

of remorse, and with the bonus of obtaining fantastic orgasms each time she put

him to death!

A beautiful, Venus-like figure lay on the lounger basking in the last rays of

the day. She was limp and hedonistically exhausted. Her stomach muscles tensed

slightly as her breathing slowly subsided. The doll, ignored, was still embedded

and wriggling inside her, but its movements were dramatically lessened as the

pressure eased. When her head finally stopped swimming, she reached down and

slid the male-thing from her sopping orifice. It was slick with translucent

slime, its naked form slowly resuming its normal shape. She carelessly dropped

it to the lawn and relaxed in utter contentment. Then the subsequent chill came

over her. She shivered and drew her knickers and shorts up to cover her loins,

then threw her legs off the lounger. She picked up the doll and lazily stepped

back to the cottage.

Leda needed a good shower. There was not a lot of time before Denise arrived.

She stood naked under the warm spray of the shower contemplating the wondrous

events of the day. That doll was simply out of this world. She would never

believe that such intense emotions could be obtained by it...and the feelings

that had been pretty dormant eventhough her lover had tried.

She went to her bedroom refreshed, her naked body glowed with vibrant

sensations. She picked up the doll and gazed at it reflectively, so happy that

it was not as inanimate as it appeared. She considered its aspects... It had a

mouth that could open, a tongue that was as a person's, male genitals...a penis

and testicles...She turned it over and saw it had a sweet little bottom. Idly

she pried the tiny buttocks and grinned at the sight of a minute anus. She

turned it back to look at its eyes, thinking the while: If only you could see.

You don't know what you're missing.... Suddenly, her eyes widened. She gave a

sharp intake of breath. 'My God, you do have eyes!' Yes, there they were, by the

warmth of her hand, it's, the doll's eyelids flickered open!

'I don't believe it!' she exclaimed, 'You're virtually human! Why hadn't I seen

them before?' She gazed at it for some time slowly shaking her head. 'You are

Eduardo, aren't you? Yes, I know you are. That gipsy-woman...how marvellous. Oh,

the things I'm going to do with you. I'm really going to make you suffer, you

arrogant, selfish, egotistical bastard!' Leda looked at his face with vengeful

determination, and as she looked she saw a distinct tear come to his eye.

'My goodness,' she murmured, 'a living, crying doll...just like that old song.'

She shook herself from her renewed reverie and opened a small drawer of her

dressing-table containing her under- wear - sets of knickers and brassieres.

'Just wait until I introduce you to Denise,' she grinned as she shut the drawer.

She checked her watch for the umpteenth time. About an hour to go. She threw

herself indolently onto the large double bed and closed her eyes. No more

sex-play, she promised herself...until that little minx, Denise gets here.

"Little minx"? Well, not exactly little. Young, yes, a sylph-like figure, yes,

but indescribably gorgeous. Absolutely perfect for the modern trend of slim,

slender-limbed nymphets that grace the cat-walks and top fashion maga- zines,

eagerly sought-after by the more sophisticated countries to advertise their ulta

creations.

'Darling!' came the gushing welcome as the older female opened the door to see

the elegant girl standing under the porch. The taxi-driver on his way back to

his car having carried her bags and bidding the stunning passenger good-night.

As soon as the door closed the two females hugged and kissed. Questions were

asked...the session, the journey and general inconsequenc- es that fly from

excited females. Then, while sipping wine, Denise brought up the mystery that

had buzzed in her pretty head ever since she had made that 'phone-call: 'Leda,

just what is it? I haven't been able to think of anything else!' Leda gazed at

the young thing, her eyes alight with the anticipation of revealing that

extraordinary phenominon: 'Darling, it's absolutely priceless! You just won't

believe it. It's a doll, but a very special doll.' Denise smiled. 'Is that

all...a doll?'

'Yes, my love, a doll; but can you believe that it's a live doll! You know that

damned man, Eduardo? Well, it's him, and he's only nine inches tall!' Denise's

smile broke into a giggle. She looked bemused. 'I really mean it, darling. I've

got a doll, nine inches tall, and it's Eduardo.'

'Let me see it,' Denise smiled indulgently, not believing a word but terribly

curious.

Without further ado, Leda arose from the sofa and went upstairs to fetch the

amazing doll. 'Get another drink, my darling, I think you'll need it,' she

called over her shoulder.

'Well, Eduardo, I've got someone downstairs who's dying to see you,' said Leda

taking him from her underwear-drawer. 'I think she's going to like you. You

might not like her, though, she's awfully excitable, asnd she really detests

you.'

'Here he is, my pet, meet Eduardo.' Leda held the doll up for Denise to see. The

girl looked, her mouth twitching with girlish amusement. She peered closer:

'Good lord, he really does look like that beastly man! You said he's live...

what, actually....?'

'Look, darling.' Leda gripped the doll tighter. In those few seconds the doll

began to move, the little legs started to twitch, the tiny hands began to

clench. Denise stared: 'It's moving!' She looked up at her glamorous lover:

'It's some kind of trick...clockwork or something.'

'Take it, darling, hold it tightly, look closely at him...he's got everything.

Look at his eyes. He's got a tongue and everything a man usually has between his

legs.'

Denise held the doll, her eyes searching for anything that might be operating

the movements. Suddenly she gasped, her lovely eyes opened wide and her pretty

mouth fell open. 'Oh, my good ness, my God, it's true! He's...he's alive! Look,

his eyes have opened...he's got...Oh God, a real tongue and a prick!' She was

speechless for some while, and then she looked up at Leda. 'Do you know...I

'phoned London before I left Paris and they told me that Eduardo had gone

missing no one knows where he is. He was supposed to have staged a showing but

it had to be put off.' Denise spoke quietly, measuring her words as the

realisation began to formulate in her not-too intelligent brain. Leda was taken

aback by this conclusive revelation. There was little doubt that the

gipsy-woman, out of gratitude for the welcome she received, the invitation to

step inside the cottage, the two cups of tea, and her compassion for the

attractive young lady, had transformed Eduardo into a doll - metamorphised him

into the lifeless figure she carried in her wicker-basket.

Shortly after the introduction, the two ladies went with swelling anticipation

to bed taking the doll with them. Leda excused the girl in not taking a bath or

shower. As they undressed and stripped for the forthcoming debauchery, they each

glanced at one another in open admiration.

Denise's breasts were small - in keeping for her profession, likewise her

sylph-like figure, narrow hips and pert bottom. Her limbs were very slim; but

otherwise, she presented a very desirable vision with a captivating beauty of

face.

They lay in each other's arms naked, their bodies pressed close, their legs

intertwining. They kissed and whispered words of love and overtures of undying

passion. All the prerequisites of sexual gratification; and what galvanised

those preliminaries was the doll, Eduardo, lying between them, being squashed by

both hot, humid bodies - their stomachs. The excessive warmth had animated it

thus causing it to move.

'It's moving,' Denise murmured, 'I can feel it.' 'Mmm...' responded Leda, 'It's

our body heat.'

At that moment, Leda was careless of the doll. She had greatly missed her young

sweetheart terribly and wanted only to slake her sexual passion, to taste her

kisses, to lavish kisses all over that young, slender body. She crushed the

girl's lips with hers, probing the sweet mouth with her long, searching tongue.

She had, on many previous occasions, probed every orifice of the girl, her ears,

her nostrils, her vulva and anus with gestures of devotion.

Denise, in her turn, reacted and reciprocated with her tongue, flicking it

nervously into Leda's mouth with delightful wariness attributed to her

youthfulness and inexperience.

Leda felt the girl's hand creep down between them. She sensed the girl's hand

grasp the doll and being moved lower. Of course, her darling wanted to feel what

it would do for her down there between her slim thighs. Why should she deny the

curiosity of the young girl?

As the older female continued kissing the younger girl, nibbling her ears,

licking the recesses, she felt the enlivened doll being transported down to her

lover's crotch. Denise had guided the doll's head between her receptive thighs,

its face pressed against her eagerly awaiting vulva. She gave a gasp, a quick

intake of breath as the living-doll was galvanised into erratic movements. His

body squirmed in the girl's tight grip, his tiny hands desperately pushing

against her envelop ing labia, his head jerking from side to side in the vain

attempt to stop it being inserted into the slimy orifice hungrily awaiting to

accept him. His struggles created exquisite sensations causing Denise to utter

short gasps and low groans of sheer delight.

Little by little, she pushed the head further and further, her vaginal lips

parting with a welcom- ing embrace. Her groans grew louder when she felt his

head engulfed, and her excitement took over and urged her to push him in deeper.

Because of its resilience, it felt just like a lovely big penis, and no matter

what the sexual prdilections of the female, such a twitching, writhing object is

non-comparable.

The girl was conscious of Leda's loving quest, feeling the sensuous woman's lips

and tongue traversing from her face to her small, tight breasts, feeling the

exquisite tingling as her teeth gently nipped each pink nipple which had become

hardened and swollen; but overall, she was swept up with the heavenly sensations

of that living, male-doll thing being swallowed by her ravenous sex-mouth and

its frantic movements.

With a determined thrust, she forced him deeper and, just as Leda had earlier,

thrilled at the thought of this object being alive with all the properties of a

male. She went into near paroxysm with the thought of his deplorable state,

being smothered, drowned and literally swallowed by her voraceous cunt... Every

woman's secret desire.

'Will it perish?' she asked Leda between gasps. Leda replied as she licked the

girl's gently undulating belly: 'No, my darling. It's not entirely human...it's

immortal.'

Denise smiled wickedly to herself and gave the doll an extra shove pushing its

head deep into her uterus. There she left it, only its lower legs waving and

kicking outside the clinging labia. It was lovely. The flailing, twisting

movements were all she needed to promote the explosive ecstasy about to erupt.

Leda, engrossed in her own quest, turned to her final assault. She brushed her

lips over the spare curly hairs surmounting the young girl's vulva but, to her

dismay, felt the flailing feet of the doll pro- truding from where she intended

to worship. At that moment Denise clasped her head and gently guided it back up

and away from her bubbling quim. 'Denise!' she protested, 'Please!' But the

young girl continued bringing her head upwards, heedless of her lover's

frustration. Already the cauldron was nigh at boiling-point. Her breathing came

in short pants, her loins began to tingle in rapturous symmetry. With amazing

strength for such a willowy-framed girl, Denise drew Leda's face up until their

lips met. Her tongue lapped at her lover's, darted in her mouth and thrashed

about as the con- vulsion burst like a sky-bomb in the night. 'Thank you! Thank

you!' she gasped, 'This is the best home-coming present ever!'

Leda, her own libido kindled, felt somewhat miffed that she could not share that

euphoric orgasm nor be entirely instrumental. She felt the urgent need to reach

that dizzying height, and an intense anger with the doll - as if it had been the

sole fault. A diabolical idea entered her feverish mind.

With the utmost care, Leda slowly extracted the doll from its fleshy confines,

its body covered with the viscid lubricity of the young girl's vagina. The girl

hardly moved, only a long, soft moan came from her as she lay in her hedonistic

daze. Leda arranged herself leaning against the ornate headrest of the bed. She

raised both knees up close to her breasts, her pudenda bulging out, her anus

fully exposed. She placed the doll's slimy head against the crinkled orifice and

thrilled as the tiny sounds began - the doll, in human form, must have realised

its impending doom. The animated figure started its futile struggling, tiny

hands reached out to press against her gluteous maximus. Leda began the

insertion relaxing her sphincter after first spitting copiously on her

finger-tips and apply- ing the saliva to the entrance. The head, much bigger

than the opening, pressed hard and very slowly pried apart the lax anus. Denise

gave a series of grunts as the head passed through the rubbery ring. She had to

hold the violent doll tighter as she forced it further, its own rubbery

consistency and the lubricants making the insertion comparatively easy, but Leda

had to keep herself fully compliant as her rectum received that foreign object.

Little by little, centimetre by centimetre she urged her living doll deep into

her fundamental canal, its arms pinned tightly to its sides. At length, she had

forced it as far as she could with only its lower legs protruding. With a final

grunt she dropped her legs and scrambled down to lie beside her girlfriend. She

began fondling the girl's small breasts while nibbling playfully at her sweet

earlobe and probing the recess with her tongue, an act that usually arouses the

pretty young thing. The girl murmured and reached behind to feel for the older

female's demanding vulva.

'Where is he, that Eduardo?' Denise sighed. 'Up my arse,' muttered Leda, 'It's

heavenly, wriggling about. Put your fingers inside me, darling, you'll feel

him.' A long moan came from the girl as she felt the movement through the

membrane separating the vagina and rectum.

'Is it nice up there...really?' she asked with that charming, young girl's

curiosity.

'Simply divine, darling. You must try it yourself.'

'Mmmmm... tomorrow night,' came the dreamy reply.

Part 2

The next day, Leda had to go shopping. Denise, being habitually indolent,

remained in bed seeing it was only 9 o'clock. She stretched her long lithe body

out luxuriously and dwelled on that extraordinary doll-thing. She heard Leda

depart, then the car leave the cottage. She laid for a while then could not

resist the curiosity filling her head. She threw off the coverlet, threw her

legs out and stood up gloriously naked. The weather was warm, the room was

pleasantly warm with the early sunlight flooding the room. She stepped to the

dressing-table and opened the drawer containing Leda's knickers and the doll.

There he was, the epitome of Eduardo, that despicable fellow. He was quite

dormant of course.

Denise felt a tiny tingling stir in her loins as she gazed at the figure, a

smile played at her full lips, then a slight shiver. Her stomach was just

slightly above the open drawer, her breasts loomed higher above like great

smooth boulders jutting from the fleshy cliff face. She reached in and grasped

the doll, her mind beginning to feverishly formulate what she like to do.

She pushed the drawer back with a bang and stepped back to the comfort of the

bed. She turned and flopped onto the thick, springy mattress and drew the

coverlet back over her naked- ness. Immediately she took the doll underneath

knowing that very soon the inanimate figure would soon become active.

To her delight and nervousness she felt the figure move. With an impulsive

decision she thrust the doll between her warm thighs, its head pressed up

against her young, vibrant labia. She closed her eyes, her charming long

eyelashes laid upon her upper cheeks. A soft sigh came from her lips as the

minute movement began....

In her dreamy, hedonist repose, she slowly, gently began moving the doll's face

over and over her responsive labia feeling the action agitating her vigorous

libido which, due to her youth and lustiness, was quick to react. Her pink

nipples, large in comparrison to her small breasts, were quickly hardening, the

erstwhile crinkled surfaces smoothing out. The ensuing result caused trickles of

viscid fluid to leak from her vagina and bathe the face and head of the now

animated doll. She spread her slim, angular legs out to the far reaches of the

bed thus exposing her puden- denda fully to the erotic attention of her

living-doll. Another impulse struck her as the inner workings of her libido

galvanised. With a quick jerk she thrust his head between the fat lips of her

vulva feeling the pressure of his hands against the squidgy labia with the

hopeless attempt to prevent his head disappearing into her slimy cavern. He

began violently struggling as she continued the thrust, his shoulders flattening

by the intense pressure of her vaginal walls.

Denis began the pumping motion, feeling the electrifying sensation of his body

rubbing over her budding clitoris. Speckles of perspiration form on her upper

lip as well as her forehead. Her armpits began to tickle as sweat oozed from the

pores of each crater. She raided her knees in the classic position of receiving

a male and her hand movements grew faster, clenching the writhing doll tighter.

Gasps came from her as she wildly pumped the frantic figure with complete

abandon driving him up beyond his waist and then further, her fist gripping his

lower legs.

Her gasps became audible in quick gutteral sounds that filled the small but cosy

bedroom. Five, ten, fifteen minutes went by, only seconds for that beautiful,

intoxicated young model, but an aeon for that wretched man. She pumped him

furiously as her climax approached, his head bursting with the fierce, punishing

passion of that girl's sexuality. Then, at long last, her body stiffened, a

long, low sigh issued from her gaping mouth to be followed by quick,

intermittent gasps. The crushing sheath in which he was enclosed tightened

around him squeezing him with unforgiving oppression as the girl's senses soared

into the clouds of heavenly euphoria.

It took many minutes for her excitement to abate, her vulva dribbled copiously,

the fluid find- ing its way down to the crevice of her buttocks. She turned on

her side and drew her knees up into a foetal position and blissfully fell into a

contented slumber. The living-doll remained inside her, his job done but his

continual struggles still a source of pleasure.

Time slipped by. Suddenly there came a noise from downstairs, a bang of a

closing door, a call: 'Denise, darling, are you still up there? I'm back!'

Denise stirred and opened her eyes, annoyed at having been disturbed from her

self-indul- gent repose. Then, with a sudden awareness, she realised the doll

was not in her vagina! She rushed to the door and shouted: 'I'm up now! Shan't

be long!' She looked around the bedroom in alarm and dashed from corner to

corner pearing under the dressing-table, the chest of drawers and then under the

bed. No sign. She whipped the coverlet off the bed and still found no sign of

the 12" doll.

But Leda said...it only comes to life when it gets warm...held in the hand or

against a body, she re- membered, so how can it escape once it leaves the

warmth? Something must have happened while it was up my cunt. Perhaps he'd drunk

something from me to give it some sort of energy or something?

Those thoughts raced through her head as she searched high and low, panic was

beginning to rise. Leda will be furious if he's got away; but he couldn't. The

door was shut and so was the window. Her eyes fell onto the pile of underwear

placed on the floor for washing that day. With a determined gleam in her eyes

she pounced on the fripperies her hands plunging into the soft materials. She

felt the solidity and cast the knickers, stockings, bras and other intimate

items away. There he was. With a triumphant grunt she seized him and cried 'Got

you, you little bast- ard!' He was amazingly alive, and making noises of terror.

She tried to hold him tightly but his desperate writhing and squirming...much

like a cat...made her lose her grip. He scampered away across the thick-piled

carpet. Denise was after him. She kicked out her foot catching him as he was

about to flee under the dressing-table. He fell and rolled onto his back. She

was quick and planted her bare foot on his body. Such was her excitement,

enhanced by her success and relief, she pressed her foot down far more than

necessary. Her achievement caused her to smile broadly

although she trembled with the effort. Okay, so she's a model, and like all

girls following that profession, she was naturally indolent, conceited,

regardless of anybody who is not famous or worthy in her glamorous world; but

she did, on strong advice, keep herself in trim - regularly attending a

prestigious gymnasium in Mayfair. Consequently, she had strong leg muscles - not

at all athletic but nonetheless, pretty powerful in relation to her willowy

figure.

The doll, now amazingly animated permanently, kicked his legs and waved his arms

as Denise's foot crushed him to the floor. Tiny shrieks piped up to her, his

eyes bulged as her oppressive weight bore down. He clenched his small fists and

beat at her foot. Denise merely grinned and applied more pressure. He began to

gasp, his shrieks reverting to cries of terror. She was conscious of Lena being

downstairs but what was foremost in her excited emotions was the desire to

punish the small creature...teach him a lesson for trying to escape.

With her full weight she gave him one more crushing tread before crouching and

carefully taking him into her hands. This time she held him in both hands. She

lifted him up and glared into his eyes. 'You nasty little ****!' she growled and

then spat into his face. He, metamorphosed from a fully-grown male, so

self-opinionated and arrogant, stared back with her spittle coating his features

and running from off his chin. He looked into her big eyes defiantly, regardless

of his inferior size and belittled status. His flagrant _expression annoyed her,

rousing her anger. She clenched her fist tighter around him and with her free

hand callously ripped one of his arms from his shoulder and threw it onto the

dressing-table, then seized the other arm. Eduardo, for that was surely who he

was, screamed hideously, but caught up with the pleasure of dismembering the

annoying little man, Denise tore the other arm with a frightful wrench and

tossed it to join the former limb. With no regard for her lover, Leda, Denise,

not having had a cup of tea yet, felt suddenly thirsty. She put her mouth to one

shoulder and then the other to drink the blood. Yes, real blood! The poor,

wretched Eduardo had, quite literally become human. Gone now was that assertion,

that defiance he had so bravely adopted at that young, beautiful, up and coming

model of giant proportions to his twelve inch stature.

Like a little girl playing on her own with vicious adolescence, capturing

insects, Denise turned to his legs. 'Noooooo!' he screeched; but the fiendish

"game" went on. A big grin appeared over her seductive features as she grasped

one leg. With just that extra effort, the limb broke away from his hip-joint. It

fell close to his ripped-off arms. The last limb then followed leaving the

horrified midget totally limbless. Denise then sadistally lapped at the blood

flowing from whence his legs had been, then her eyes focussed on his dangling

genitals. 'I haven't had break- fast yet,' she giggled. Again he screamed as she

raised his torso to her mouth. Blood dripped from all four places from where his

limbs had been torn.

First, she extended her bloodied tongue and lapped at the masculine appendages,

the penis and testicles waved to and fro, yet still the wretched creature howled

and screamed. There seemed he could not die as a man would under such dreadful

circumstances.

She glanced at him with a lustful and pitiless grin and opened her mouth just a

little to embrace his genitals with her sexy lips. 'Mmmm...a teeny sausage and

two teeny eggs,' she murmured, and then quickly caught the organs between her

sharp teeth, another aspect of her beauty she took great care of. She bit and as

her teeth gradually met the little man let out a high- pitched squeal. Denise

closed her lips and gazed at him as she sucked the tiny morsels, sending them

from one side of her mouth to the other, soaking them with her saliva. Then her

teeth began their mastication, chewing them up to a pulp. 'Mmmm...' she

murmured, then gave a swallow. Eduardo saw her throat bob as his manly

possessions slid down her gullet.

'Denise, Denise!' came a call from downstairs, 'It's nearly twelve, you know,

aren't you feeling well...or are you still asleep? I can make you a little

breakfast!' There came the sound of footfalls ascending the narrow staircase. A

sense of guilt and panic erupted in the girl's heart. She was holding the

unmanned and limbless Eduardo in her hand, his genitals being digested in her

stomach, his limbs lying on the dressing-table. Quick as a flash, her mind

concocting excuses, she parted her legs and, as if inserting a tampon, pushed

him out of sight into her glutinous vagina. Then hastily picked up the limbs and

wrapped them in the soiled underwear.

'Have you got a pad or something?' she called just as Leda entered the bedroom,

'I've just star- ted,' referring to her monthly periods. The pretty girl

purposely shewed the signs.

'Yes, my darling. I always keep them as an emergency, in case I start during the

night.' Leda, deceived by her sex-partner's cunning subterfuge, took out a

packet of s.t's from the drawer in which she stored her knickers. As she handed

the s.t's to Denise she peered into the drawer: 'That's odd. Where's that doll?'

Denise, adopting a casual indifference, placed a pad under her crotch and put on

a fresh pair of knickers: 'Don't know. You did put him back there, didn't you?'

'Yes, I'm sure I did,' muttered Leda as she pulled one pair and another of her

knickers aside. 'He's not here.' She opened other drawers with the same result.

'Now where could he be?'

As Denise pulled her knickers up tight over the bulging pad, she felt the

squirming Eduardo in her vagina. God, she thought to herself, the bugger's still

alive! She then thought about the small pile of undies lying there on the floor,

and the evidence of her savagery. 'I'll get rid of these,' she said as calmly as

she could, and gathered them up. As Leda continued searching she asked Denise if

he was in amongst them. Denise pretended to squeeze the underclothes. 'No, not

here. I'll take these down and pop them in the washing-machine...Okay?' Then, as

she stepped from the room she again kept up the pretence: 'I think he must have

got out of here when I went for a pee earlier. I thought I heard

something...thought it was a mouse or something.' Leda cursed:

'Damn...damn...damn!' Denise wore a smirk on her face as she descended the

staircase. So much for "True love." She quickly re- moved the limbs from the

washing and stuffed them deep into the rubbish-bin in the kitchen then crammed

the undies into the washing-machine. Yet again using her conniving initiative,

she turned the machine on - just in case. Every now and then she gave a start as

the dismembered figure deep inside her wriggled about.

Leda was terribly upset. It was as if she'd lost a dear pet. 'Never mind,'

smiled Denise with false compassion, 'You've still got me.' Leda was slightly

mollified. 'Yes, darling, but you won't be with me for very long. You'll soon be

off on some shoot somewhere. America or .... Look, darling, I really must pop

out. You can come with me if you want. I must try and find a local gipsy camp.'

Denise's heart sprang as an opportunity lit up in her scheming mind, but her

_expression shewed her reluctance. 'Leda, I'm rather hungry and I need a shower

or a good soak. You go and I'll be all right.'

'Are you sure, my love?' Denise was sure right enough. She waved "tearfully" as

Leda hurried off on her quest to find that wizened old gipsy-woman.

Once she was gone, Denise hoisted her skirt and drew her knickers down and off

her feet. She spread her lithe legs and removed the s.t. There was blood on it

but not, surprisingly, very much. She then squatted and began inserting her

fingers into her vulva until she felt Duardo. Very slowly she drew him out of

her vagina. Astoundingly, he was still alive and would have been kicking if he

had the legs to do so. She gazed at him in amazement, his head, face and torso

besmeared with her vaginal fluids. His eyes were blinking in the bright light

and his mouth dribbling with her mucus.

'I don't like competition,' she said to him. 'I think Leda was getting too fond

of you. It's me she loves, and me who gets her all sexy and that. So you've

really got to go. Now I know you can't die. She told me. So, how do I really get

rid of you? I could simply chop you up into tiny bits and flush you down the

lavvy-pan, or perhaps put you into the mincing machine? I 'spose I cou

The Doll By Banfield

Acording with the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (“DMCA”), Pub. L. 105-304 If you believe that your copyrighted work is being infringed, notify our team at the email [email protected]

MORE ABOUT The Doll By Banfield

The Doll By Banfield