“You sonofabitch, did you really get one of them?”

“Yeah, I told you I did.”

“You’re not fucking with me?”

“See for yourself.”

I could hear their conversation as they walked down the stairs. Steve had left me propped up on the sofa. Thinking it would be funny, he’d wedged an empty bottle of beer in my hand. As the door opened, I recognized the tall form of Steve; with him was a slightly short yet stockier stranger.

The man walked right up to me and stared.

“You sonofabitch! You did get one.”

“John, would I lie to you?” asked Steve with a smirk as he walked behind me. I could hear the clink of beer bottles.

Still, the man named John just stared.

Steve returned and handed him a bottle, taking a swig, he said, “Hot, right?”

John just shook his head. “You are one lucky sonofabitch. How do you even make it into work? I’d just sit around all day fucking it.”

It.

That was me.

I was an it now.

A thing.

An object.

An object to be fucked.

Used.

Steve just laughed.

“Does Carol know?” asked John. The sofa dipped as he sat beside me, forcing my arm over his shoulder. His hand was pressed between my legs.

“Fuck no. She’d pitch a fit. I hide it in the closet whenever I’m finished just in case she ever comes down here.”

Carol, that must be Steve’s wife’s name. Carol. My stomach twisted when I thought of all he had done to me when he had a wife one floor up.

I grimaced as John fondled my left breast. His large hand squeezed me tight while his fingers dug in deep.

“Her tits feel real,” he said, astonished.

Steve just nodded his head.

John continued to grope and grab me. Putting down his beer, he pinched both my nipples between his finger and thumbs and twisted them.

Stop! That hurts!

“Hey! Knock it the fuck off. You want to tear her nipples off?”

Confused, I felt a strange sense of appreciation as Steve came to my rescue.

John shifted over to the other side of the sofa. “What does it feel like to fuck one of these?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Steve said, “The same, except you don’t have to give a shit if it comes and you can fuck it as hard as you want without it complaining.”

It.

It again.

“And you don’t have to buy it jewelry or dinner afterwards,” offered John, smiling wide at his own joke.

“Or marry the bitch!”

Steve and John high-fived one another.

John tilted his head in my direction. “You going to let me try it out?”

“Let’s get high first. You will almost think she’s real when you’re fucked up.”

Watching as if from afar, Steve took one of the hated mirrors down and dumped some fine white powder onto its surface. As if I were watching some bad 80s movie, I sat there as the two men snorted and coughed the better portion of it up their noses. At one point, Steve smeared some under my own nose. I waited to see if my plastic body would react. I’m not sure if I was grateful or not that it didn’t. Would the small escape from reality the cocaine might have afforded me make what lay ahead any easier?

A sense of dread began to creep over me.

Both men began to undress.

“What hole you want first?” asked Steve.

“I want her mouth. Always wanted to just shove my cock down some chick’s mouth. You know. Really choke her with it.”

Steve gestured wildly at me. “Have at it, bro!”

Oh God. No. Not again.

John climbed up on the sofa and placed his knees above my shoulders, his feet digging painfully into my ribs. Leaning down, he grasped my hair and wrenched my head up till my neck was tilted at a painful angle. Then he shoved his cock into my mouth. I gagged at the rancid sour taste as it pushed to the back of my throat. I could feel his balls as they swayed just below my chin.

“Fuck! This is fucking awesome, man,” cried out John as he started to pump my head up and down on his cock.

“Right? You don’t even miss the tongue,” agreed Steve.

“Half the time a chick’s just using her tongue to try to push you out. Man, I’m in deep. Right down her fucking throat.” He punctuated that with a few hard thrusts.

Even though I couldn’t move, I still struggled. Crying, gasping for breath, bucking my hips, twisting my head from side to side, screaming no. It all happened… in my mind.

“Hey! Hey! Look up!”

“You’re filming? Fucking awesome!”

Steve circled us with his phone. Videotaping my assault.

“Dude. She looks fucking real on camera. No one would ever know.”

I am real! I’m here! I’m inside. I… am… real.

My name is Jane.

Jane.

Please, help me.

John started moving my head so quickly I thought my neck would snap. With each movement, his thick disgusting cock was thrust deep down my throat.

“Wait! Wait. I’m going to change this up. Stop filming then start again,” said John as he pulled his flesh from my mouth.

Hopping off the sofa, he twisted me around, so my head hung over the edge. He then placed my legs over the back. Open and wide.

Please. Please don’t humiliate me this way. Please I’m begging you.

Tilting my head all the way back, John lined his cock up with my mouth and waited. When he got the nod from Steve, he shoved it past my lips with a groan. This time he kept it lodged deep in my throat. His balls rubbed my open eyes. I could feel him press his whole body over my prone, helpless form. Then a burst of searing pain erupted between my outstretched legs.

Oh God! Stop! Stop! It hurts!

One slap after another. John was beating my pussy. The degrading slapping sounds of a hand hitting plastic echoed around the room, mixing with their laughter.

“That’s it, bitch. Suck my cock while I slap your pussy!” yelled John as he began to rock his hips pushing his cock in and out of my unwilling mouth.

As John leaned up, I could see Steve positioned with his phone camera directly between my legs.

“Grab her tits!” Steve shouted out.

Reaching down, John latched on to both of my breasts. Squeezing them so hard I thought he was going to tear them off. I could see his fingers on my breasts, but they weren’t my breasts, they were large and swollen and plastic… yet I felt every bruising finger of his dig into me as if it were my own flesh.

“Fuck. I’m going to come.”

“Don’t jizz in her mouth,” said Steve.

“Come on man! Why not!”

“Because only I get to jizz inside her, you prick.”

I had to watch as thick streams of cum landed on my breasts, stomach and chin.

“That was fucking awesome,” said John as he climbed off me.

Both left me there. Dangling over the sofa, covered in cum. Used and forgotten as they did a few more lines of coke.

Sometime later, they remembered their little fuck toy.

“We have to clean her off. I’m not touching your fucking jizz,” said Steve as he took a swig from another beer.

“No problem!”

John tilted his full beer bottle over me. Dousing me in cold, sudsy liquid.

Steve laughed. “You’re a prick.”

“Hey! My first instinct was to use piss, so count yourself lucky, slut,” said John as he slapped my face.

Both men laughed.

“Oh man, can you imagine just pissing down some slut’s throat?”

“What do you think you have her for?”

I want to die. I’ve had enough. There is no more hope left in me. I want to die.

Setting aside his beer, Steve stepped up to the sofa as he fisted his cock.

No! No! You can’t! You can’t do this. I’m real. Please!

“I think I’ll just fuck her snatch. This thing has the tightest fucking snatch. Seriously dude, you haven’t gotten pussy like this since high school.”

John picked up the phone to film as Steve picked my whole body up.

“Watch this,” he said to John.

Steve sat on the sofa and positioned my legs, so I was straddling him. Lifting up my hips, he positioned his cock right at my pussy entrance. Then he put his hands around my impossibly narrow waist.

“Are you ready? You filming?”

“Yeah! Yeah! Fuck the bitch!”

Steve shoved my body down onto his cock.

I let out the silent scream of a wounded animal as his flesh tore into me. His damp cock sticking to my dry flesh as he pushed and pushed harder. If I truly were real, I would be bleeding. Lifting me high, he shoved me up and down his shaft over and over and over again.

“Swing around front. Watch how her tits actually bounce!”

“Fuck! They look so real!”

Steve latched onto my right nipple and bit down. Growling like a dog, he shook his head from side to side. I prayed for the solace of true death. Anything was better than this pain. This humiliation. It was one thing to be used, it was another to be denied the dignity of fighting back. The peace of mind that you at least screamed and yelled and called out for him to stop.

I was denied all that. I was forced to suffer inside this plastic cage.

With a groan, he finished.

I could feel my insides gunk up with his cum.