e621.net · 6179286

My first time trying writing along with a piece of art.

[section="Silicone toy in his drawer"]
Well, I may have made a mistake while I was horny. Not that I'm ever not horny anymore.

I am a sex toy; being horny is a constant of life for me.

Here I am, sitting in my drawer, helpless and unable to move. It's exactly what I wanted three days ago, but now I'm bored and am realizing I may have made a poor choice.

Well, where do I start? My owner had to go on a business trip for the week. Usually he puts my limbs on and leaves me in charge of the house, but for some stupid reason I was really feeling up for being objectified. So, I turned down the offer to have him equip my limbs and said for him to just leave me in my drawer.

Oh yeah; I live in a drawer in my owner's bedroom. Being in your owner's drawer or cupboard isn't uncommon for normal toys, and I love the idea of being a tool that gets put away when not in use. It took some time but I managed to convince my owner to let me have a drawer to be my designated home.

And that drawer is where I’m laying right now, staying right where he left me like any good toy. Unfortunately, this silicone body of mine needs some routine maintenance. Those squishy breasts on my chest aren’t just for my owner to play with; they produce and store lube. And after three days of being unused they feel very full and in need of release. I have no idea if this feeling is accurate to real mammary glands since I was a guy before being toyified. To me they feel like water balloons that are getting slightly too full. If I only had my arms attached right now I could just squeeze my nipples and let the pressure off. But alas, I am facing the consequences of my own horny actions.

I grunt and press my head into my pillow in frustration. “Yeah, sure.” I say out loud. “Sitting in storage is totally kinky and fun! I love being bored!”

I know I’m not truly stranded. The voice-activated home assistant allows me to send a message in an emergency, and there are several neighbors who I would trust to ask for help. But that would be an inconvenience for my owner and possibly an embarrassing conversation depending on who I called. I’m designed to be convenient for him, not inconvenient.

I look down at my breasts again, watching them jiggle slightly. My penis begins to get hard at the sight of those lube storage tanks despite my annoyance and discomfort. Yes, I do still possess my pre-tf masculine instincts and attraction to breasts, and that includes my own. And yes, it does stack with the toy instincts given to me by my transformation.

I look down at my tiny cock again. I’m a penetrable sex toy; I’m made to take cock, not give it. The inclusion of my dick in my new form was more for me to retain some of my old identity. It isn’t bigger than a finger anyway, so it wouldn’t accomplish much if I did try and use it on a full sized person.

Below my cock, molded as part of the same component, is my pussy. More accurately it’s my fuck tube. You see, my designers were smart. They knew that lots of toys would want to try new textures, orifices, and genital arrangements after their transformation. So they made our genitals a replaceable tube that runs from our groin up to our throat. It’s officially a ‘pleasure core’ but every toy I’ve met just calls it a fuck tube. And it is ribbed if you were wondering.

Man, I wish my owner was home right now. He could reach in my drawer and grab me by my handles, easily manipulate my tiny body and maneuver me over his shaft as I can do nothing but watch him slowly lower me down, my thighs forced apart by my own handles and my hole exposed as he...

Okay stop, I’m horny enough as is. If I keep at this I’m going to drive myself insane. How did I even sit in my box for two weeks at the shop?

Yeah, I got boxed up. I’m one of those toys who chose to be displayed and objectified in a shop and treated as merchandise. The thrill of not knowing who was going to buy you, waiting on a store shelf until someone decided to pick you, and your entire existence being reduced to a list of features on the front of your box was unbelievably fun.

In reality the ‘shop’ I was sold at was a carefully controlled and masterfully orchestrated roleplay session where toys would be paired with owners that were into the same things as they were. Each of our boxes would have a small sequence of symbols on the front that denoted what kinks we wanted to be used for, and the background color was vaguely how much of that kink we were okay with. Owners were only allowed to pick toys that were into the same kinks, and after purchase toys would be kept track of to make sure they were happy and in good hands. We have our own self-defense mechanisms as well, but those are a secret.

Speaking of self-defense mechanisms, my tail has a rattlesnake rattle at the end. I love this attachment because not only does it look cool, its also a functional vibrator! A small battery pack in the base of my tail powers any electric attachment connected to it, in this case my rattle’s vibration motor.

I curl my tail up and look at my rattle again. I’m still uncomfortable due to the pressure in my breasts, so I decide to try and relieve myself with my only appendage I have right now. I gently press the tip of my tail into my left nipple, trying to somehow release the liquid inside. After several attempts I accomplish nothing but rub one erogenous zone against another, both my tail tip and my nipple now contributing to my ever increasing horniness.

I stop and close my eyes in an attempt to relax, but the immediate image that fills my mind is my owner’s giant hands groping and squeezing my breasts, gently caressing the liquid inside out onto his palm, then rubbing it along his beautiful manhood, preparing to use me…

Damn it, not again! Why am I SO HORNY ALL THE TIME.

Okay that question was rhetorical. You don’t have to answer.

If only there was some way I could squeeze my breasts, then I could empty myself out. Maybe if I flipped over? But I don’t weigh enough to really put any pressure on them. I look back down at myself, hoping to find some solution.

I look at my tail again. Maybe the snake rattle wasn’t far off; serpentine constriction might actually work. I coil my tail up, this time wrapping it around the base of my breast. It can barely reach, but I slowly begin to try coiling tighter and tighter.

After a few attempts I begin to see a bit of clear fluid drip out of my nipple. I’m very aware I’m making myself hornier, but at this point all I want is some relief. I keep working, and soon I’ve mastered the technique enough to actually milk a good bit out of my breast. Uncoiling my tail, the immediate bliss I feel is wonderful.

I then move on to my other breast. A bit of lube has dripped onto my tail, making the second coiling more difficult with less friction, but I’m more capable now and manage to relieve my other breast, resulting in another blissful relief.

I can feel the liquid running down my sides and pooling behind my back. It’ll need to be cleaned up later, but fortunately for me my only bodily fluid doesn’t smell or stain.

Looking at my tail again, the fluid is also dripping off my tail tip. Horny as I am that vibrator looks amazing floating above my belly, glistening and covered in lube.

Well, I guess I can treat myself a bit. I clench my tail where my anus used to be, triggering the electrical switch inside the base of my tail. It’s a surprisingly simple way of allowing us toys to manipulate our new features; reusing outdated muscle motions for new purposes.

I align my tail to my waiting cunt and ram it in rapidly. The shock of having two erogenous zones being so roughly shoved together makes my body thrash in pleasure. My shoulders arch back and my hips try and close, both pulling against each other as my handles keep me perfectly spread and immobile like I’m designed to be.

After gasping for a breath I don’t actually need, I resume my self-usage, my tail vibrator moving and working me over. I feel my walls involuntarily clench down on my vibrator, causing the vibrator to also feel the sudden increase in tightness. The unexpected combination of both sensations causes me to let out a very not-masculine squeal.

I’m glad nobody heard that. Its not like I really have any dignity as a sentient fleshlight, but I like to pretend that I do. As I continue to use myself on myself, I close my eyes and picture my owner holding a dildo over me, ramming it into me and forcing my belly to swell out to accommodate the other toy. I keep working myself over, picturing my owner using me in so many different ways, until I finally feel myself clench and do my toy version of climaxing. I feel the familiar tension in my groin as my tiny shaft pushes a small bit of lube out onto my stomach and the simultaneous clench of my own ribbed interior as I clamp down on my tail. After a moment to breathe I slowly pull my tail out of my tunnel.

I lay back on my pillow as I feel myself relaxing, basking in the satisfaction of having fulfilled my purpose, even if only to satisfy myself.

As I close my eyes again, this time I’m relaxed enough to slowly drift off to sleep, still covered in my own juices. My dreams are vague, nonsensical, and as horny as you’d expect from a sentient sex toy. But I know that my owner will be back soon, and he’ll probably be pent up and ready to put me to good use. I can only wait patiently for him to return.

After all, I’m just one of my owner’s possessions; I’ll stay right where I was stored until I’m needed again.
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