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kendsleyauthor · 1 year

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All Dolled Up

Print / Trinket Universe

~3000 words

Warnings: ⛔Minors DNI⛔, CNC, dehumanization, fearplay, mouthplay

Summary: After rescuing you from an auction, Lee has no choice but to bring you along to a dangerous dinner appointment. He promises to keep you safe, but are you prepared to play along?

The plot of this story came from an anonymous reader, and it inspired me to try 2nd person POV for the first time! Please mind the warnings and do not proceed if you are uncomfortable with such themes!

@marydublinauthor 🌸

“I only had this room for one night,” Lee explains over the meal.

You sit at the edge of his room-service platter and lick sauce from your fingers. You haven’t had enough time to master the art of eating as a trinket—not neatly, anyway. The fact that you’re eating next to a giant without fear is a miracle. Manners are the least of your worries.

“What does that mean?” you ask.

He twists his fork in his hand absently. The prongs are longer than your arm. The meal is more for you than him. He is about to attend a dinner shortly.

“It means I have to take you with me to the meeting. There aren’t any other agents in the area to collect you. And, well… This is an important recon mission. If I cancel, it’s not likely I’ll get another invite.”

The worry on his face is clear. It’s hard to misinterpret facial expressions at your three-inch height. You purse your lips uncertainly. “What do you need me to do?”

Lee explains as he clears away the plates and piles them on one side of the table. You listen as best you can; it’s hard to focus while watching someone move room-sized dishes over your head so effortlessly. He leaves you briefly to rummage through his overnight bag. He plucks up tiny clothes between his fingers, glancing over at you as he considers the present options. Finally, he settles on a pretty red dress—the kind you might have worn while bar-hopping in your past life.

He looks away politely as you change into it on the table, and when you ask for help tying it off in the back, his fingers are gentle and precise. You hold still as he tugs the silken straps into a little knot.

“I’ll keep you in my pocket the whole time if I can,” he says. His voice is a rumble behind you, his breath warm as he leans in close to make sure the knot is perfect. “But, here’s the thing… If I do have to take you out, you need to act scared. Or these people will be suspicious. Do you understand?”

When his fingers release you, you turn around and meet the overwhelmingly blue gaze before you. “Okay, Lee,” you say softly.

“And you can’t call me that. It’s too casual, and I’m not going by my real name, anyway. Just call me ‘sir’ like your life depends on it.”

Your face flushes, and you nod, speechless.

His expression softens, and he gingerly takes your hand between his finger and thumb. “Best case scenario, you stay hidden the whole night. But if that can’t happen, please remember that I won’t hurt you, no matter what. I won’t let anyone touch you, either. They’ll know you’re mine.”

Once you have agreed to the rules, he seems to relax somewhat and goes to pack his bag. When he returns to the table, he gingerly picks you up and slides you into his front pocket. You are still getting used to being handled, yet you are certain you will never find hands gentler than his.

You sway in the darkness of Lee’s pocket as he makes his way downstairs, through the lobby, and out the door to hail a self-driving cab. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he rides; after all, these vehicles have cameras inside of them. As far as either of you are concerned, you cannot exist—not in this world where your existence on his person would get him arrested for unlawful possession of government property.

Yesterday, however, you very much existed. You were the center of attention. It is incredible how your life has been flipped on its head several times in the span of a few days. You were destined for the black market before your consciousness transfer was even complete—sold by a lab tech to be auctioned off as a rare “untouched” trinket, fresh from the Facility.

Lee won you easily, and the moment he had you alone, he quickly proved himself to be kind and sweet. Last night was pleasant and calm. But now, his tension has transformed him into an entirely different person.

The car slows to a stop, and once again, you experience the sway of his pocket. He told you the meeting point was a fancy restaurant. It was owned by an underground trinket seller and was an exclusive spot for prospective buyers to meet. Lee needs to get in good with these people to uncover the extent of their operation. It’s a careful job that requires the utmost professionalism.

You’re tempted to peek out when you hear voices, but you don’t move a muscle, just like Lee whispered to you on the way in. Amazing that you can be entirely present without being noticed at all.

There are three voices—the seller, whose name is Edwin, and two other prospective buyers. Lee is going by the name of Pierce. The conversation seems to go well at the get-go. The men introduce themselves, and they order their dinner. There is a clear shift in the air when Edwin offers to order complimentary drinks with trinkets in them.

Maybe it is reflexive, but Lee casually turns down the offer.

“What the matter, Pierce?” Edwin says, his voice taking on a note of suspicion. “Not interested in sampling my merchandise?”

Lee draws in a sharp breath that only you are aware of, being so small and near him. To the others, maybe it can be excused as a mischievous chuckle. You can feel his hesitation and his heartbeat, and then there is a rustle of fabric as his fingers slide into his pocket over your head. You stay perfectly still as his hand wraps around you and pulls you out.

“I’m just saying, I brought my own entertainment,” Lee says smoothly. “It’ll take a lot of convincing to get me to try yours. I’ll take that drink, though.”

You remember what Lee said about how you should behave. You draw in a shuddering breath, bordering on a whimper, and you squirm uncomfortably in his grasp. He hushes you and strokes your hair, his touch lingering like he is savoring the sensation. You peek out at the rest of the table. The other men eye you with delight, and you remind yourself to Lee promised that they will not touch you.

But that means you have to play your part.

You tremble and close your eyes, ducking your head.

That seems to do the trick, as far as suspicions are concerned.

As the men discuss their business dealings over your head, Lee’s hand ceaselessly plays with you on the white tablecloth. He strokes your side, takes your arm or leg between his fingers, forces you closer or further away as he pleases.

When his wine arrives, he plucks you up by your sides and holds you over it. You give a cry and kick your legs in protest, but he just smirks at you and raises his eyebrows matter-of-factly.

“Don’t fuss,” he says. “Why do you think I had you wear red? Now, settle down.” His fingers give you the slightest squeeze.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whimper.

He lowers you into his wine. You brace your hands against the glass, eyes stinging from the alcohol. The wine is up to your chin, but it threatens to cover your mouth and nose as Lee lifts the glass to sample his drink. Wine rushes past you and drags you along. Just before you’re about to touch his upper lip, he straightens the glass and leaves you shivering in a smaller pool. His tongue briefly swipes his lips, savoring the wine—and you.

You endure this until dinner arrives. As Lee downs the last of his wine, he leaves the glass sideways at his mouth, and his lips brush against you. His teeth graze your shoulder, as though his contemplating pulling you into his mouth completely.

But he straightens the glass, making you slide back down to the bottom of your prison. Your moment of reprieve lasts for only a few minutes before his attention turns to you again. After a few bites of food, he decides that he wants you closer. He reaches into the glass and plucks you out, dripping with wine. Setting you at the edge of his plate, you can’t help but think about your peaceful meal just an hour prior.

Now, you have three other men leering at you. You are surrounded in all directions, and they are not shy about making their desires known.

While Lee fondles you through your wet dress, one of the buyers says, “When am I getting a turn?” It sounds like he’s only half-joking.

Lee’s smile is cutting. “I don’t share,” he says simply. No one questions him again, but it doesn’t stop them from giving suggestions.

The other buyer looks at you hungrily. “Don’t you think she’ll get sick if she stays in that wet dress all night?”

That is all the warning you get before Lee hoists you up again. He drops you into his open palm and turns you around rather than asking you to do it yourself. His fingertips tug at the knot he had made earlier. His efforts jolt you back and forth harshly. The moment the knot comes loose, he turns you over again and paws at your neckline.

You squirm and gasp, trying to shove his fingers away, but he overpowers you with mere twitches of his fingers. The neckline comes down, putting your bare breasts in full view. One of the men wolf-whistles. Lee drags down the rest of the dress, wiggling it past your hips and along your legs until you are left wearing nothing but a pair of black panties.

Dessert arrives just in time. He fondles you on his plate, pausing only to put you to work. He orders you to grab a strawberry slice from the elegant cheesecake. You try to do as you’re told, but you can’t reach the slice without getting messy. You inadvertently smear yourself with whipped cream when he tells you to hurry up. The moment you grab the fruit, he plucks you up and holds you near his mouth. Catching on, you feed him the slice, shivering as his tongue drags over your arms as he takes it. He licks up the excess whipped cream on your skin after he chews and swallows.

Finally, dinner is over. Lee has played his part well. Edwin insists on taking them all to a bar down the street, and Lee doesn’t dare say no. He pockets you and follows along.

They get a private booth in the back, and once there are no bartenders or waitresses around to see, Lee pulls you back out of his pocket.

The men drink and drink. You are soaked in different alcohols until you’re certain that the scent will forever be part of you. For a time, Lee is content enough to just hold you close on the table. You give his finger a squeeze when the other men look like they might get bold enough to reach for you.

But when Lee becomes handsy, you tremble and try to maneuver away, only to have him drag you back in place. The others chortle at every one of your failed attempts to get away.

Edwin eyes you, and you worry for a moment that he’s going to suggest that he buy from Lee instead of sell. Instead, he swirls the drink in his hand and leans closer with a drunken smile.

“I’m not usually one for drinking games,” Edwin slurs. “But I do have a favorite. You know that cherry stem knot game? Well…” He smiles down at you as if you are in on the fun, and then he looks back up at Lee. “How fast do you think you can get the little one’s panties off?”

You don’t hear the rest of the rumbling exchange of the bet overhead. You stagger back on shaking legs and turn to run, but you don’t make it very far before Lee walls you off with his hand. You think he’s about to close that hand and trap you, but instead, he leans in closer and closer until you are cornered between his hand and mouth.

“No, don’t!” you weep, trying to duck away while the other men cheer. “P-please, don’t!”

Hot darkness consumes your world as his mouth closes around you. Your stomach flips as he straightens back up. For a moment, he simply seems to savor your taste, rolling you from side to side on his tongue like a piece of candy. Then he remembers his goal. Despite your efforts to squirm to the front of his mouth, he is able to maneuver you with just his tongue and teeth.

You cry out as his teeth lock around your torso—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you firmly in place. His tongue probes between your legs, slick and burning as it searches for the edge of your panties. He repositions you once his tongue has some semblance of grasp on the fabric, shifting it over to his teeth to grab a firm hold. Then his tongue forces you to the other side, your panties dragging down your legs.

The moment your kicking legs are free of your only bit of clothing, he spits you out onto his palm. You look up dizzily as he sticks his tongue out with your panties on the tip.

Judging by the guffaws and crows of the others, Lee has won a permanent piece of respect.

After that, the night is finally over.

Lee stuffs you back into his pocket and calls another cab. Just as you’re wondering where you’re going, he calls the hotel and says that he’ll need another room for the night. His trip is extending longer than expected.

Once again, he does not acknowledge you during the ride.

When he arrives in his new room, he lets you out of his pocket immediately. He doesn’t quite look at you as he draws a bath in a warm cup and lets you change into a set of clean clothes in privacy. Once you’re finished, you call for him, and he’s at your side in an instant.

He scoops you up into a gentle grasp and runs his thumb clumsily down your wet hair. Then to your surprise, his eyes well up with tears.

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m so fucking sorry. I went too far. Please forgive me, I—” He hisses and shakes his head. “Fuck that... You don’t have to forgive me. Once I get you to the base, you don’t even have to look at me again, I swear.”

Despite his disgust with himself, he can’t seem to put you down. He looks you over carefully, making sure you’re alright. His gaze is unfocused. He’s utterly drunk from the night, and his tears are falling faster the longer he looks at you.

“Lee!” you say, finally finding your voice. You hug his finger tightly. “I’m fine! I promise I’m fine—please, don’t cry.” He shakes his head and closes his eyes at the sound of your tiny voice. You tap his finger insistently. “It’s been a long night. Have a glass of water and go to bed.”

He looks at you like he can’t comprehend what you’re saying. “But…”

“Now, Lee,” you insist. “Water and bed. Please.”

He pouts like a child, like he might argue with you. But he’s too out of it to do anything but obey those simple directions. He sets you up like he did last night, folding up one of his clean shirts for you to nestle yourself into. The folds are untidy this time around, but the gesture is sweet all the same. He sets your makeshift bed on the spare pillow, and he is out like a light on the other side.

The next morning, he wakes before you. When you open your eyes, he is staring at you with sorrow and guilt, his head still resting on the pillow across from yours. He starts to apologize again, but you sit up and hold your hand up to stop him.

Although he is no longer drunk, he follows your silent command.

“Lee,” you tell him. “It’s okay. It really is. I know you didn’t mean all those things last night. I could feel your fingers shaking every time you touched me.”

“But… still. That was too much. Too far. I’m so sorry.” He looks like he might cry again. “I can’t even imagine how terrified you must’ve been.”

You swallow hard and feel heat creep to your cheeks. You weren’t planning on telling him this, but the poor thing looks so upset with himself. “I was never really scared,” you admit. “Well… okay, yes, I was scared. Terrified. But in a good way.”

His eyebrows pull together, puzzled. “I know I told you to play a part,” he says. “But… it looks so real. Like you were really, really scared. Like you were ready to fall apart.”

“But I knew I was safe.” You hold your hand out, beckoning him to give you his hand. He hesitantly brings his hand close. You stroke the knuckles of his index finger soothingly, blushing harder. Now you’re the one who can hardly look at him. “I, um… I kind of liked it?” You bite your lip and peek up.

As you predicted, he looks utterly bewildered.

“I’ve always been a bit of an exhibitionist,” you say quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

“Oh, my god.” He shuts his eyes for a second, processing. When he opens them again, they are alight with humor and relief. “You little shit! I thought I was traumatizing you.”

You shrug sheepishly. “I’d be happy to do it again if you need me to. If you ever need someone to help keep your cover, that is. As long as you promise to keep me safe.”

His hand shifts suddenly, his finger leaving your grasp. You find yourself in his gentle hold instead. He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering as a warm chuckle spills over you. “I think we can work something out,” he purrs.

(Author’s note: Would you trust Lee to keep you safe? 👀 I know I would. 🥰)

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