What if it did...

Your inner thoughts wrestle the control out of you. A pressure builds behind your eyes. An itch in the back of your mind.

What if it feels different... What if it's better without the fabric? What if it really is more... fun...?

Your fingers are already moving before you decide anything. They curl, finding the edge of the material, hesitating only for a fraction of a second before they pull.

The elastic digs into your fingertips, your throat tightening as you swallow.

Why is your mouth so dry? Why is your pulse climbing like you're about to run?

You don't understand what you're feeling. Only that you have to look.

The elastic stretches at your pull. There's something oddly satisfying in the way it resists and gives. Once stretched enough, it even slips free on its own, down the mannequin's skin and in between its ankles.

It happens too quickly... Your breath catches... Your chest rises faster, head going light with the dizziness of excitement... It's all so unfamiliar...

Something about this feels like crossing a line you never agreed to. And yet... You're already past it, your psychological defenses crumbling beyond recovery...

...

Next thing you know, you're frozen in place, unsure what should happen... How you've come this far...

You don't want to stop, and you don't know what to do next. It feels like there are too many options now.

It's... cute.

The thought hits you out of nowhere.

You stare at it a moment longer for anything that makes this make sense. A twitch. A shift... A reaction... Anything...

But it remains at your mercy... Motionless...

Squeeze... Squeeze... A slow breath in...

Your hand moves again.

It's almost automatic now. A slow press... Then another... At some point, this became a rhythm. Something you're getting better at. You're finding the right mount of pressure without thinking about it.

"Ha... Ha..." you stupidly laugh. Dry and senseless. You have lost all reason...

The surface responds the same. Still warm, yielding just enough to keep you there. Nothing in the form of a reaction or resistance. It's allowing you to have the fun you so desperately seek.

Your fingers start lingering longer than they should. Then they release as you pause.

Something about the sensation sticks with you. Both on the skin and in your head.

It's dry... And yet your fingers stick for a fraction of a second before they slide again.

Resistance... That makes it interesting... But the stickiness... What...

...

Your hand rises without thinking, an inch below your nose. Something everyone does involuntarily when touching something weird.

There's no hesitation as you breathe in.

Nothing...

Then, you rest your fingers on your nose, lungs filling with the air funneled through the gaps between them.

Just to be safe...

There's something faint this time. The moisture on your hand. The droplets that clung to its skin and which you then collected.

It smells... Weird... Subtle... Something you can't name... The kind of smell that makes you go for a second take...

Your fingers press closer. You breathe deeper.

And without realizing it, you lean into it, forgetting altogether to listen for the movement behind you.