I told it I was going to do something to make it uncomfortable today. It loves being uncomfortable. That horrible pit in its stomach, the sense of unease reverberating across its skin. It loves to hate it.
It sits down in the chair I prepared for it, set in the middle of the room next to a table with a first aid kid and a roll of duct tape, as well as a tripod with a macro lens camera attached. It knows whats about to happen, it agreed to it last week. It folds its arms close to its chest, fidgeting unconsciously as the nervousness builds. Now though, it isn't really sure if it wants this anymore, or if it ever wanted it.
"Still hands, doll." I tell it, taking its arms and taping them to the chair. "I need to secure its limbs so it doesn't flail during this."
It silently nods, thousand yard stare as it tries to calm its nerves. It knows this is for the best. It has no idea how it will react, but it knows it's going to be a visceral experience.
I finish securing it, and set up the camera. Focusing the lens on the doll's eye, not too close that a little movement will put it out of frame. Just close enough to see the micro movements of its pupils. They're blown wide in anticipation, and darting from point to point as its thoughts swirl. I start recording.
It looks up at me as I sit down in its lap. Gripping one hand on its scalp to hold its head in place, and the other around its face holding its left eye open. Its heart audibly beating out of its chest, breathing heavy. Its vision locked on my mouth. The delicious anticipation of the horrible thing about to happen. I open wide.
My wide gaping mouth and dripping tongue engulf its vision.
The gears of its mind catch, and it screeches out a desperate, "W-wait please please pleasewai-!"
The saliva soaked tongue touches the bump of its cornea, just for a moment before its eye darts to look up, down, anywhere but there. Its hands clench and its toes curl, a gaping pit opening up in its stomach. Its adrenaline spiking and its heart racing even faster.
As its soft tears mix with my thick saliva, it wretches and tries unconsciously, desperately to shake free. My tongue washes over it, feeling out across its sclera and under its eyelids. Lapping up the tears straight from its ducts. Finally, unable to break my grip, it lets out a sad whimper and sob, resigned to the disgusting feeling of my tongue exploring every corner of its eye.
It is everything I had hoped for. The experience of its eye rolling beneath my tongue is intoxicating. The smooth texture and salty taste delectable. I close my eyes and let the feeling wash over me as it slowly stops struggling. Letting out a satisfied sigh as I savor the last little bit. I'm going to watch this moment over and over with my doll, remembering the feeling of it on the tip of my tongue.
I'm going to treasure this moment forever, and the way it made both of us feel.
