Ways to Break a Good Man, No. 2

It, Griff amended. It was an out-of-control toy. A sophisticated toy, clearly, but still a confection of plastic and circuitry. He stood back up with the doll still wrapped around him. For an inflatable, with little actual mass, she clung to him with surprising force.

Well this was the shot for the gutter press, Griff thought as he put his arms around it. It might have looked like he was embracing the doll, but in reality he was searching for an off switch. His hands slid over the smooth plastic surface of her back and found nothing—no switch, no valve, not even a seam. Worse, his movements also allowed the doll to shift position and gain an even tighter hold of his body. He felt the pressure of her plastic boobs against his chest. The doll ground inflatable hips against his crotch, squashing his penis up against first the smooth plastic of her body and then the softer material of the artificial sheath between her legs.

"Off," Griff commanded on the off chance the thing was voice activated.

Air hissed from the doll's lips. It sounded like a dark chuckle.

Griff caught sight of himself in one of the flat's mirrors. It looked exactly as ludicrous as he would have thought. A tabloid's wet dream—a Member of Parliament standing up and looking like they were having sex with a blow-up doll.

Then he saw the doll's shiny pink back with the occult symbols scrawled across it and ice water condensed in his bowels. Black magic was nonsense. He knew that. And yet looking at those arcane characters and designs twisted his guts. There was a wrongness about them that hurt his eye just to look at them.

This was something more than a sleazy sex toy.

He redoubled his efforts to get the thing off him. He put hands against the doll's inflatable body and tried to push it away. The doll's artificial skin stretched but held firm. He tried bashing her up against the walls and furniture to dislodge her, but that didn't work either. Her embrace was unbreakable, like she'd tied her rubber ankles and wrists together behind his back.

Worse, the motions only served to jar and rub his penis up against her plastic body. Griff felt about as far from aroused as could be, but motions like this had an involuntary effect on the male body. Unbidden and definitely unwanted, his penis began to swell and push back against the plastic skin in a burgeoning erection.

Now? Seriously? Mel used to joke all men were ruled by the little head between their legs, but this was ridiculous. Griff gripped the sides of the blow-up doll and tried to wrench it off him.

Wait.

He heard a hissing sound, like air escaping a balloon.

Finally. His rough treatment must have caused a puncture. He heard air escaping and felt the doll start to deflate in his arms. He put his arms around it in a bear hug and squeezed, hoping to push the air out faster. The hissing sounds were punctuated with strange little pauses. Again it sounded like giggles.

The doll expanded back in his arms, swelling back to full expansion or maybe even more. Her ludicrous balloon boobs squeaked as they pushed and rubbed against his chest. The air was entering her through her artificial sex. He felt the currents tickle between his legs and through his pubic hair as the doll drew more air into her body.

It was not the only thing she drew into her body.

The suction found the swelling tip of his penis and suddenly he was pressing up against and then passing between the soft flanges of her artificial vagina.

He was inside her. It.

Griff paused in stunned surprise. Her sheath was made out of a different material than the smooth vinyl of her skin. Soft, spongy, tight; it squeezed all around Griff's erection—and it was a full erection now, despite the absurdity of the circumstances—in a snug fit that sent little erotic shivers crackling across Griff's nerve endings. It felt good.

This was wrong. It was a doll . . . an object . . . a thing, and yet it felt like a more luxuriously soft fit for his sex than the vagina of the girl he loved most in all the world.

Griff banished those shameful thoughts and tried to pull his penis out of her . . . it.

Air escaped the doll in a hiss that sounded like an erotic sigh. Again the body deflated slightly in his arms. And again it expanded right back up. Suction tugged on his erection—bloated now with blood and throbbing—and his swollen glans burrowed deeper into her soft and spongy sheath. The luscious material accepted him and pressed snugly all around his penis.

It felt . . . good.

Griff's knees trembled. He flopped down on the sofa with the living sex doll sitting in his lap. The doll was deflating again, air hissing out in a little erotic sigh as it prepared to inhale Griff's cock deeper into her softness. Griff was waiting for it and let out his own little sigh as the plush material of the doll's sheath—what was it made of, it felt incredible—clenched around his swollen hard-on and tugged it, millimetre by trembling millimetre, deeper inside her.

The doll bobbed in his lap, as light as a balloon. The rubber nipples of her expanded boobs dragged against his chest. He felt a familiar sensation growing in his balls, like thousands of tiny wheels spinning around and around. He was going to come. This artificial construct of plastic, rubber and whatever wondrous material her sex comprised of was actually going to make him come.

Was that so bad? Mel was away and he wasn't exactly cheating on her. It was just a doll. An inanimate object.

The lights flickered.

Griff saw their reflections in the widescreen TV on the other side of the room. The symbols—those disquieting, unnatural markings that made Griff feel nauseous every time he looked at them—on the doll's back were glowing with a dull light, like fires from a world buried far below in the darkness where no light ever shone. There was another glow, and Griff was surprised to see it was emanating from him. Faint orange light twirled around him like ethereal wisps of smoke.

The doll breathed in again. As it expanded Griff watched as the ethereal wisps were drawn down to the doll's hips and then sucked up inside her. For a brief moment the runes on her back flared more brightly and he saw a cloud of shimmering lights through her partially translucent skin. The glow faded and her shiny plastic skin was once again opaque. The doll let out another hissing exhalation.

It sounded like laughter.

* * * *

"The doll is just a receptacle. The runes on its back are where . . ." the face on the screen gave another toad-like smile ". . . the magic lies. I prepared a ritual to summon the spirit of a succubus up from hell and into the empty body of the doll. This will happen at two a.m. on the night of the 31st.

"As I'm sure you've already discovered with your own research, a succubus is a demon of lust and temptation. They feed off sex and are extremely persuasive—irresistible, almost—in coaxing men to fornicate with them."

"This is bullshit," the youngest gangster said.

Herbert shushed him with a glare that could crack concrete.

". . . correct precautions and safeguards, succubi make delightful companions. They're skilled in more arts of sexual pleasure than even the most dedicated hedonist could imagine.

"Uncontrolled, they are quite deadly.

"The terms of the ritual allow the spirit of the succubus to inhabit the doll only until the break of dawn. At that point the spirit will be dismissed back to hell. While on this plane the succubus will have one aim and one aim only . . ."

* * * *

Griff got back to his feet. The doll remained wrapped tightly around his body. He felt it swell up again and her balloon-like tits expand against his chest. Pleasurable suction rippled around his cock and pulled it even deeper inside her lusciously soft and moist vagina. Those wheels in his balls were spinning faster and faster. His cock throbbed in anticipation of emptying its load.

No. He mustn't. Instinctively he knew if he did that he'd be lost, and lost in a way that was far more final and terrifying than the ending of his life.

Hiss. Expand. Suck.

Griff stumbled to his knees as another bolt of luxurious pleasure left his legs feeling like a tangle of elastic bands. The wheels in his balls kept churning. He was already oozing pre-cum from the tip of his swollen erection. It dribbled out into the spongy material of the doll's sheath and was absorbed.

He wanted to come. Fuck, did he want to come. He wanted to spurt and spurt and fill this filthy inflatable thing until his seed was dribbling out of its mouth.

No, no, no! Put it out of his mind.

Griff looked up and glimpsed his salvation beneath the flickering lights of the kitchen unit. He staggered to his feet and lurched towards it.

The doll's rubber tits puffed out again against his chest. He stumbled and nearly fell as her plush vagina squeezed and teased his already close-to-bursting cock.

More air escaped her lips in hissing giggles.

Find it funny, do you, Griff thought. He was behind the counter now. He reached up and his trembling hand found the handle of one of the carving knives sticking out of the knife rack.

Poppity-pop.

He pulled his arm back, aimed the knife at the seam where a ludicrously bulging breast met the main body and stabbed downwards. The point of the blade met the vinyl skin of the doll and—

* * * *

". . . and that is to ensnare the soul of a man and take it back to hell with her. She will do this in the manner of all succubi, by sucking it out of his body during sexual intercourse.

"Why? you might be thinking. Why such a convoluted way to remove a minor nuisance?"

The fat man rested his multiple chins on a cradle made out of his pudgy fingers. He leered out of the screen.

"It will all become apparent."

* * * *

—the skin gave like soft rubber without breaking. Griff pushed harder, kept pushing until the knife was all the way in to the hilt. Still the doll didn't pop.

The balloon tits swelled up again. Another sucking squeeze rippled over Griff's cock. His grip on the knife handle loosened. The doll expanded and her elastic skin popped back out, flinging the knife back so hard the blade sliced a shallow red groove into his fingers as it flew out of the back of his hand.

Griff lost his footing and tumbled forwards with the doll underneath him. They hit the floor and the doll bounced beneath Griff like an inflatable castle. Her monstrous boobs formed a cushion and Griff rocked up and down with her inflatable body. His momentum drove his cock even deeper into the soft sheath between her legs. The soft material wrapped tightly around him, letting him know there was no possibility of escape from her snug prison now.

Hiss.

Griff sank with her deflating body.

Expand.

He rose as she swelled beneath him.

Suck.

His body trembled as she gently drew him deeper within her.

Griff had no fight left. It took all of his concentration to resist the urge to spill his load inside the doll, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer.

He thought of all the plans he'd had. The reforms he'd wanted to achieve.

Hiss. Expand. Suck.

His body had rebelled. His hips and buttocks were twitching of their own accord, straining to drive him deeper into her soft sex. He sank deeper and the swollen head of his cock pushed up against a soft sphincter that stretched over his glans like a snug second skin.

He thought of Mel and the things they'd planned to do together. The family they'd planned to raise.

Hiss. Expand. Suck.

His body rose as the doll expanded beneath him in another mockery of drawing breath. The head of Griff's cock pushed through that final barrier and this time the suction was focused fully on him. It travelled up the inside of his pulsing manhood and tugged at the frothing contents of his balls.

"I'm so sorry, Mel," Griff whispered.

His buttocks flexed and drove downwards against her bouncy inflatable body. He emitted a loud, drawn-out moan. A thick jet of cum rushed up his shaft and erupted within the hollow insides of the doll. Her fake plastic thighs squeezed his waist.

Hiss. Expand. Suck.

HissExpandSuck.

Hissexpandsuck. Hissexpandsuck.

—hissexpandsuckhissexpandsuckhissexpandsuck—

The movements of her rubber body grew faster and stronger. She was like a pump now, a pump sucking . . . sucking . . . sucking all the cum out of Griff's spasming body. He kept coming. On and on, torrents of semen pulsing from his cock in constant spurts. The doll wrapped her arms more tightly around him, pinning him to her pulsating rubber breasts. He was hers. All hers.

Her chest swelled again, inflating far in advance of her normal size. She inhaled him.

Her body deflated back to normal size. Air escaped its lips in a content sigh and then it was still—a lifeless and empty blow-up sex doll with an equally lifeless and empty man lying on top of it.

* * * *

"You see, when a succubus takes a man's soul it leaves a body where the true cause of death is undetectable by our modern, sceptical world. To the unqualified eye it will appear as though the victim succumbed to that most mundane of deaths—a heart attack."

The fat man gave a broad smile.

"There are no murder suspects for a naturally occurring death."

* * * *

They found Griff—and the sex doll—the next morning. The paramedics were respectful and professional as they removed the body. The laughter came later.

Death by misadventure was the ruling. A heart attack brought on through overexertion . . . with a blow-up sex doll.

None of the papers omitted that detail, even the higher-minded broadsheets. Griff's sordid little death made all the front pages and they included every salacious little detail.

No one was surprised. Politicians were all the same.

* * * *

"It's not enough to destroy a good man; you must destroy their reputation in the eyes of others as well. A man murdered in the defence of his ideals becomes a martyr and their ghost will live on through the people they inspired.

"A man dying of a heart attack while fucking a blow-up sex doll is remembered only as a smutty joke on a late night comedy show."

* * * *

Richard Dean Herbert read the newspaper with a quiet feeling of satisfaction. The fat American's methods were unorthodox, but he couldn't fault their effectiveness.

Ted Demme passed Herbert a phone.

"It's the Defence Procurement Committee. The Lightbore Project has been approved."