Imagine you work in a doll shop... (Part I)
Ever since you were young, you had always dreamed of
having a large family- being constantly swollen and round with children,
feeling them kick and tumble around inside you. There was only one
problem: you were downright terrified of the pain that came with giving
birth. Just the idea of feeling yourself be stretched so much was
absolutely unbearable, to the point where you always made certain that
your birth control prescription was met and your husband wore a condom
every time the two of you had sex.
However, as time went on, it was becoming gradually more apparent that
your husband was getting frustrated with your unwillingness. He sat you
down and had a long talk with you about epidurals and other painless
birth options, but you wouldn’t hear any of it. There was always the off
chance that it would hurt regardless, and that was something you just
couldn’t risk. That same night, you both slept in different rooms.
The next morning, while getting ready for work, you decided to check on
your husband, who was still sound asleep on the couch. Even in his
sleep, it was obvious that he was unhappy- his brow holding a slight
furrow, his lips tightly pursed. At the sight, you felt a sudden pang of
guilt. After all, it wasn’t his fault that you were so afraid of giving
birth. And you knew how badly he wanted children.
Later that morning, you quietly stepped into the shop, your hands
trembling ever so slightly as you eased the door shut behind you. The
sight you were met with was a comfortingly familiar one; dozens of
painted faces perched above plastic bodies clothed in perfectly pleated,
tightly laced dresses, bright, sparkling eyes framed by delicately
curled hair in a variety of shades. There was no question that these
were some of the most lifelike and realistic dolls made in the area,
each roughly the same size as a toddler and weighing almost as much. You
knew from firsthand experience just how heavy they were, given how many
times you’d had to load them into boxes to be shipped, or had to stock
the countless shelves with them.
Moving past the dolls, you found your boss in the workroom, busy
threading hair into the scalp of an unfinished doll. Mumbling a
halfhearted greeting, you stepped past him to the sewing table, where
you got to work hemming the dress that the semi-hairless doll was to
wear. The longer you sewed, the more you let your mind wander, and the
worse you felt about the fight you’d had with your significant
other. The guilt must have eventually started to show on your face, as
soon, your boss piped up, quietly mentioning that you had never been
very good at hiding your feelings.
With that, you broke down completely, clutching your face in your hands
as you tearfully explained your predicament. More than anything, you
wanted to get past your phobia of pregnancy, and give your husband the
family that the two of you had wanted for so long. Your boss just sat
there, listening, until finally, as you took a moment to blow your nose
with a tissue, he spoke.
“I would like to help you with that.”
Those were words that simultaneously made you afraid and exhilarated. On
one hand, you had no idea how he planned to help you. On the other, you
were becoming so desperate that you were willing to try just about
anything. Reluctantly, you nodded, relenting to his request.
With a large, friendly smile, he stood, motioning for you to come over
to the workbench he was using. Curiosity slowly began to seep into you
as you yourself rose, joining him next to the table cluttered with
tools. Quickly, your boss began clearing a large area of the wooden
surface, leaving it all too available for whatever was going to happen
“Sir? What’re you-” Before you could so much as finish your sentence, he
shoved you down, trying to force you to lay flat on the workbench.
Though he was an older man, you happened to be on the small side,
meaning you no match for him. Still, you struggled and fought, trying to
kick at him as he bound your wrists to the legs of the table, your arms
tightly secured by two brightly colored strips of cloth. As you tried
to tug your hands free, he took the opportunity to yank off the jeans
you were wearing, quickly followed by your flimsy panties. As the cold
air brushed against your nethers, it hit you: he was going to rape you.
Tears filled your eyes for the second time that day as you stopped your
struggling, going limp against the wood. Parting your lips, you let out a
hoarse whisper. “Please don’t do this…”
“I won’t harm you, dear. Though, I can’t promise that this isn’t going
to hurt.” He almost sounded apologetic as he tied your ankles to the
other two legs of the table, forcing your own legs to remain spread
wide, bent upwards at the knees. What was he going to do to you? Your
heart was pounding so loudly in your ears that you almost didn’t catch
his murmured words of reassurance as something soft began caressing your
folds. With a shudder, you realized that he was teasing your sex with
his fingers. A soft gasp managed to escape you as he slipped one finger
inside you, followed by another, and then another. It was uncomfortable
at first, but your body quickly adjusted, your opening growing wet to
accommodate the intrusion. As he pressed into your clit with his thumb,
you let out your first moan, your chest beginning to heave as your
breaths turned shallow and strained.
You almost wanted to whine as he pulled back, wiping off his fingers
with a cloth. You tried to lift your head to see what he was doing, but
you couldn’t see past the workbench as your boss hunched over, pulling
something out from a box underneath. However, as he stood back up, you
could feel the color drain from your cheeks, your hands curling into
In his hands was another doll, this one without a painted face, hair, or
clothes. Cradled gently in his arms, it almost looked like a newborn
infant, the kind you so desperately craved. With a sudden rush you felt
the guilt flood back into you, that all-too-familiar feeling that had
eaten away at your marriage. Consumed with emotion, you barely noticed
as your boss stepped back over, lowering the doll towards your open
Without warning, you felt a sudden pain blossom in your sex, a sharp
pinching sensation that wrenched a shriek from you. Your head snapped
back up, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of the source of the
unwelcome feeling. The sight that met your eyes was something that you
had definitely not expected to see. Pushed brutally hard against your
vulva was the head of the unfinished doll, your boss’s hands trying to
force it in deeper- force it into your body. Before you could stop
yourself, a string of panicked words tumbled out of your mouth,
gradually increasing in pitch until they bordered on nothing more than a
“NO! DON’T! PLEASE, OH GOD, IT’S NOT GOING TO FIT!”
You desperately yanked and pulled at the bindings on your wrists,
praying that somehow you could get free and put an end to this madness.
Still, he persisted, continuing to press on the doll, putting his entire
weight behind the single continuous shove. The stinging pain twisted
itself into a deep, unbearable ache as the doll reached your pelvis, the
plastic meeting a hole that was far too small for it to pass through.
You could feel the entire weight of the object, ridiculously heavy and
bulky as it somehow managed to slide deeper and deeper, working its way
into your canal against all odds. Despite your pleas, he still continued
to put that intolerable pressure on your body, determined to slide the
doll into you.
You had been lying there for what must have been an hour before you
finally felt the doll reach its last obstacle: your cervix.
The ache that you thought couldn’t get any worse tripled as hard plastic
met the unweilding muscle, stubbornly trying to force it open. Your
only relief was the series of screams that tore out of your throat, one
after another until you were too hoarse to continue. Fresh tears
trickled down across your face as the doll suddenly thrust deeper inside
of you, into what could only be your womb. As you looked down, you
could see the bulge in your lower stomach, signifying that the head had
entered the deepest part of you at last.
“Hush, dear. It’s almost over. The head was the difficult part.” His
words did little to soothe you, and you clenched your teeth, letting out
a hissing, forced breath as the rest of the doll was pushed into your
abused uterus. You watched with disbelief as your belly grew before your
eyes, plumping out into a round, pregnant sphere that rested heavily on
your tiny frame. Though there wasn’t nearly as much pain as there was
during the insertion, you still felt sore, and you were so incredibly
full that you were sure you were about to burst. The doll took up every
last inch of space in your swollen womb, stuffing you so large that you
looked to be pregnant with at least twins.
You groaned in relief as you felt your boss cut through the ties on your
wrists. Freed at last, your hands flew to your massive tummy,
experimentally poking and prodding at it. The bulge was utterly
rock-hard, no doubt due to the doll within. Wincing, you tenderly rubbed
the taut flesh. There was no possible way that your situation could get
That was when he spoke, his own fingertips lightly brushing the surface
of your belly.
“You did so well, dear. I’ll let you rest for a bit, and then we can
Hey, guys! You can call me Absinthe. Long-time lurker of the blog,
finally decided to actually post something myself. Hope you enjoyed, and
there should be a part 2 coming soon!