It takes it.

The doll grabs the offered beer and takes a drink. Or is it in your mind? You can see it is just a doll. It can’t take a drink. “Aah. Daddy’s tired, be a good girl and suck my cock.” He says. But the head didn’t even move. The mouth is just sitting there an open circle ready for a lonely dick.

“Yes daddy.” You hear yourself say, and drop to your knees in front of him. You have to slide the doll forward to get it in position. You open wide and your tongue flops out of your mouth. As it does you are sure you feel a tongue stud brush past your lips. What is happening? You envelop the cock and your lips hit the base. The rubber slick against your lips. The cock tastes like pussy. Like he just pulled it out of your pussy. It happened. He fucked you. How? You start to bob up and down. It begins to grow. You have to open your mouth wider and wider. The head slides into your wet throat. You gag, jerk your head back.

Strong hands stop you before more than half of the cock is out. “Easy girl. I won’t hurt you.” Your head is driven down and the bulbous head slides down your throat. Again you gag. Your body heaves trying to expel the intrusion but he holds firm. Your body relaxes. He stands up and starts powering in, really fucking your face. It reminds you of homecoming. Your boyfriend fucked you like this. You cried all the way home. Daddy made it better. He took your virginity that night. Your mind reals at the intruding false memory. That never happened. “Oh you make daddy so proud. Such a good girl.” He spurts warm cum in your mouth, then pulls out and blast after blast glazes your face with cum. You sputter and spit as your eyes sting forcing you to close them.

With a cough you make your way to the bathroom, half blind, blinking through the cum. Long slender fingers with long fake nails wipe your face as the water flows in the sink. You blink, drink a bit of water. Stand up. You slowly open your eyes to see yourself. “What the fuck?” Normal old you stares back. Looking down, your hands are normal, no fake nails. “I must be going crazy.” Your mind searches for an explanation. “****. Acid. The doll. I bet it is like covered in ****. Ya, that would make sense.” Yet part of you is afraid to go back into the living room.