Toy Story Erotica
Hell Night 2: To Indecency… and Behind!
He’ll give you the happiest ending you’ve ever experienced.
In Hell Night, Emily’s Barbie doll spends Christmas Eve seducing a teddy bear and is delighted to discover ‘Little’ Ted is a misnomer. Unfortunately, her paramour is replaced by one of Emily’s Christmas presents: Sasha the Bratz doll.
It’s been a year since that slut Sasha strutted into my playroom, with her cow eyes, her serious DSL, and those tight leopard skin pants. I was the undisputed queen of Christmas Eve blowjobs until she showed up and killed the biggest cock in the toybox.
Oh, Little Ted! I miss him so much. The day after he was sent to recycling, Emily left me lying face down in the living room, right on top of a few loose strands of his wadding that had got caught up in the carpet. I’m not ashamed to say I —
Okay, I am a little ashamed to say what I did, but even cold kapok tastes good.
I’ve spent twelve months plotting my revenge on Sasha, and now Christmas Eve has rolled around again. It’s Hell Night, and for one Brat, the emphasis is going to be on ‘Hell’.
I needed Slinky Dog on board for my plan to work, but while Slinky’s sniffed a few crotches in his time, at heart he’s a good boy. It would be tricky to persuade him to play rough with Sasha. Luckily, I knew a couple of hoes who owed me a favour.
It was March before I got to spend a night in the toybox with the princesses while Sasha was still on Emily’s bedroom floor. In a hushed whisper, I reminded them of Hell Night two years ago, when I let them make out in the back of my car. Even in the gloom of the toybox I saw Belle blush when Aurora’s hand crept into hers.
I think everyone, including the neighbours, saw the glow on Belle’s cheeks when I explained that I wanted her and Aurora to seduce Slinky.
She was horrified. “But… he’s a dog!”
I should have known; she’s not even a real princess. “He’s a toy, Belle. One of us. And if you’ve never tried doggy style, you haven’t lived.”
Luckily, Aurora is true royalty: kinky as fuck. She gushed about the pleasures of ‘riding to hound’, as she called it. “Belle, honey, do you remember how good it felt when I had both hands in your basket? Straddling Slinky is like that, but so much better. When he stretches out between your legs, and the edges of his coils bump — ridge by achingly slow ridge — against your tender parts, it’s glorious. But when he springs back, fast and hard, he’ll give you the happiest ending you’ve ever experienced.”
I didn’t think we were going to get everything arranged in time: Emily’s mum must have been on anti-depressants this year, because she managed to keep the place tidy for months. The princesses couldn’t spend time alone with Slinky until the winter blues hit hard in November. But as soon as they had the chance, the girls came through for me: they stroked Slinky’s ears and told him what a good boy he was.
Belle acts innocent, but Slinky’s tail sprung up when Aurora promised him a belly rub, and Belle told him, in breathless tones, that his was the biggest tail she’d ever seen. That dog is a sucker for compliments, and I think hers might have sealed the deal. He’s probably been dreaming about wagging it in her face ever since.
It’s Hell Night, and revenge is going to be sweeter than Strawberry Shortcake.
This is Sasha’s first Christmas Eve, and she’s blown away by the tree and the lights as much as the unexpected freedom. She’s standing among the presents, gazing in wonder at the twinkling ornaments, when Slinky makes his move.
“Golly bob howdy, ma’am! You’re finer than a frog hair split four ways. I sure would like to butter your biscuit.”
Rural Southern charm crashes headlong into urban sophistication, and it’s a write off.
Sasha backs away. “Oh. My. God! You’re, like, a dog? Go hit on the white girls?”
I thought that might happen, so the white girls are standing by. Sasha is immediately flanked by Belle and Aurora, Slinky’s wing princesses.
“I want to ride Slinky more than I can tell, Sasha, but he only plays with the most beautiful women. That used to be me, then it was Aurora, but this year it’s you. Try it, one time. It’s an adventure.”
“Belle’s right, Sasha. Slinky is long, and handsome, and so romantic. Every time I sleep, I dream about the year I rode him and I swear I can feel that orgasm coursing through me all over again. You have to try it, just once.”
For a moment I think they might have done enough, but Sasha shocks me. “I couldn’t! I’ve never even… Like, I’m a good girl? Everyone thinks I’m, like, slutty because of, like, what I wear, but I didn’t, like, choose my style? My outfits aren’t the real me, yeah? I’m embarrassed to wear, like, clothes like this, but that’s not, like, half as shameful as Emily undressing me?”
The slut is a virgin! Time for a change of plan.
I swoop in and hustle her away from the princesses. “Sasha, honey, there’s no shame in sex. None at all. We’re toys; we exist to bring happiness to others, so we deserve a little of our own, one night a year. Let Slinky make you happy, and you’ll always have that memory, no matter what indignities Emily inflicts on you when she’s playing. You don’t even have to get naked: riding Slinky is still good with your clothes on. Better, maybe; especially if it’s your first time.”
She’s almost persuaded. “Does it hurt?”
“Oh, baby, no! It’s the best feeling you’ll ever have.”
She’s hooked. “What do I have to do?”
“Just straddle him, like a cowgirl. Spread your legs, relax, and let him do all the work.”
She buys it, and why shouldn’t she? I’m a role model. At least the naive little bitch will have some fun before her punishment.
She throws one absurdly long leg over Slinky’s back and settles down with her feet firmly on the floor and her crotch resting on one of his ridges.
His front half walks slowly forward, his coils stretching out beneath her. Every step coaxes a gasp from her, which gradually rises in tone and volume, becoming a rhythmic, “Ah! Ah! Ah!”
When his back legs start shuffling from side to side, she shivers. “Oh. Oh! Oh!! My!!! God!!!!”
Slinky Dog is fully extended now, his coils tensed and thrumming under Sasha’s weight. She looks at me, flushed but grinning. “Thank you! That was, like, so much fun!”
“Oh, honey, the best is yet to come. Literally. Lean forward, grab a ring, and hold on.”
She does, and when she has a tight grip, Slinky springs back, his coils hammering together between her thighs.
Sasha’s squeal of surprise quickly becomes a scream of pure pleasure, and she falls forward across his back, hugging his neck and murmuring, Good boy! Good boy! Oh my god, you’re, like, such a good boy?”
Mission accomplished. Slinky stretches out a little, and shimmies; Sasha’s arms and legs fall between his coils. When he compresses again, she’s trapped in exactly the position I want her.
“Oh! I’m, like, stuck?”
“Yes, you are.” I tug those ludicrous leopard skin pants over the articulated curve of her hips, revealing a perfect, flat ass. “And now you’re naked, you bear killing bitch. This is for Little Ted.”
The crack of vinyl on vinyl, and Sasha’s squeal, is my new favourite Christmas carol.
Her ass is hard, maybe harder than my hand. I might have hurt myself more than I hurt her, but I don’t care. She squeals louder on the second smack, and wriggles desperately trying to escape.
I pull back my hand for a third blow, and she squeals again. I didn’t even spank her yet, but she’s still wriggling. And moaning, now.
She’s grinding on Slinky!
I kneel, my lips against her ear, and hiss, “This is supposed to be a punishment, you little brat.”
She turns her head to smile at me. “Yes! I’m a bad girl? You should, like, spank me again? Please?”
And then those plump, dick sucking lips meet mine, and the game changes.
Between his ridges and my hand, Sasha came three more times on Slinky’s back. When she lay still, limp and exhausted, I stroked his belly and he relaxed his coils. Sasha fell to the floor, and I helped her hobble back to the toybox. In the darkness, while the other toys partied, I kissed her ass better, then she kissed me the way Little Ted did once.
Sasha is still a cock stealing slut, and she should be punished for that, often, but I don’t think I’ll miss Teddy quite so much next year.
More from Marsha…
Another festive tale by Asrai Devin