Layers Fan Fiction

The summer sun burned high overhead - the Eye of Sauron trapped between the edges of the world.

Craig groaned, wiped sweat from his brow and flung it away before shading his eyes to stare at the baleful orb. Sweat lined his back from where the backpack touched his body. He walked slowly, knowing his dad would be waking soon for his shift at the mill.

"Fucking Lenny," Craig groused, kicking a rock in his path. He wiped his fingers through the short hair on the side of his head with a sigh.

He'd known Lenny his entire life. Had grown up with him and bonded with him due to their shitty parents. Left to their own devices most of their life with other kids teasing them for how poor they dressed or how they couldn't afford lunch most days, they'd fought back. And kept fighting back. Until they found themselves settling into a life of bullying.

Until Craig found a job a few months ago. Being around other adults and teenagers his age, right on the cusp of adulthood, let him see what lay beyond the madness of school. Nobody cared. They didn't care about any of the school drama - just how to keep their boss from yelling at them for going too slow. Now he dreamed of putting away a little money every day until he had enough saved to get his own little apartment to get away from his father. Maybe even getting an apprenticeship somewhere for more money.

And away from Lenny, maybe.

"Stupid Lenny," Craig said with a sigh. He'd punched Jonathon Brenner for laughing like a braying donkey and Craig had made the mistake of being around him when it happened. The vice principal had sent both of them home for the day despite Craig not being involved. He'd even mumbled out a quiet 'sorry' to Jonathon as he left.

A yard sign drew his attention.

"Estate sale, huh?" Craig said, scratching his jaw and the few dark hairs he'd been able to grow. He'd expected to grow a beard when he'd turned eighteen but so far his body was letting him down.

He glanced down the side street to see people wandering around a yard strewn with objects and more walking in and out of the house. The three story home loomed over the surrounding homes. It was painted dark blue, nearly black, with cracked white paint outlining the windows. He looked down the street to his house far in the distance but then touched his back pocket to feel his wallet.

Craig turned down the street, gripping the straps of his backpack with his arms bent. Plodding along. Sweat poured down his chest and over his bulging stomach, a constant reminder for him to lose weight.

Items lay on tables spread throughout the lawn. He looked at them while walking around but they were mostly plates and utensils and other household goods he wasn't interested in. Once he'd completed a circuit around the yard, he made his way inside.

"Ah, that's good stuff," he said when the air conditioning rolled over him.

The house was

packed

with things for sale, including the furniture itself. He walked to an ancient grandfather clock, hypnotized by the soft whisk-tick-whisk-tick-whisk-tick-whisk sound it made. It was strangely soothing and the polished, dark wood only added to the effect. As if he were transported into the past, when the world was slower. Calmer.

He roused himself and continued, walking through the house as if walking through history, rifling through 8 track tapes and records as well as boxes of old photos.

Stairs creaked when he made his way into the basement. It was empty and, for a moment he worried he wasn't supposed to be down there. Nothing had tags but things were still laid out. He walked around until he stood before a tall box.

Craig opened the box and then stepped back while letting it close quickly with a snap. Licking his lips, he looked around the cool room and then opened the box again.

A blow-up doll stared back at him. He laughed, suddenly and sharply. Everything else seemed so dignified but here this was, hidden away. It sagged in its container and he could see others behind it but the first one held his attention.

Once more he licked his lips. And pondered. He wasn't handsome and his reputation at school didn't do him any favors, leaving him still a virgin. He'd seen pocket vaginas and other fancy things but never dared spend the money on them. Everything was priced low here. Surely he could afford this and wouldn't have to worry about ordering something online for his dad to find accidentally.

"Someone else used this, though, man. Gross," he said but his voice was an uncertain whisper. She was pretty, even with the sagging rubber face. He reached a finger out, curling it into a hook in order to touch her face. It almost felt like real skin and that only made it more exciting. A string of fake pearls shifted around "her" neck.

He could hide it under his bed, he knew. His dad never checked his room. He barely even talked to him. And with him working through the night, there was plenty of time where he could be alone.

"It's a dumb idea," he said but he touched the thing's cheek again. Caressing it. A strange, faint ache filled him, beneath his chest. He swallowed and touched his sternum, tapping it gently.

Before he could change his mind, he closed the box and lifted it, carrying it beneath his right arm as he walked up the stairs to head outside to the man sitting behind a table. He was dressed in a suit with a fake smile plastered on his face and a large cashbox beside him.

"Hey, whatcha got there?" the man asked.

Craig looked around, suddenly ashamed of what he was doing but he'd gone too far to turn back so he lay the box down on the table.

"I don't see any tag on it," the man said, frowning as he checked the sides. "Where'd you find it?"

"The basement," Craig told him as his cheeks brightened in the oppressive heat.

"Ohhh, that's why," the man said. "Yeah, I haven't gone through that yet. I didn't think anyone would go down there. Well, that's fine. Let me, oh."

He stared into the opened box while Craig fidgeted. The man reached in with his pen to shift things around slightly.

"Well," the man laughed. "I guess there's some things I

really

don't want to know about my grandfather. Ten bucks and it's yours. I don't know what it's worth and I don't

wanna

know what it's worth or what it is exactly."

Craig fumbled for his wallet before pulling out a twenty dollar bill. He closed the box's lid while the man grabbed change and held it out.

"Thanks," the young man said. "I'm here all day and probably tomorrow if you want to come back."

"Yeah, sure," Craig lied, taking the money to store it while lifting the box. The tips of his ears felt like someone had pinched them hard enough to hurt. He wanted out as quickly as possible so he could sit in his quiet room without all these people staring at him and judging him.

The walk home was arduous and the cumbersome box only made it worse. His fingers hurt from gripping the lid hard and his knuckles were pure white. He kept seeing, in his imagination, the box flying open and the doll flopping out for everyone to see.

"Oh, thank Christ," Craig gasped when he saw the empty spot where his dad always parked. He grabbed his keys from his pocket with the box balanced on his foot against the outside wall while he unlocked the door and rushed inside.

It was cool and quiet and dark and only then did he start to relax. Yet his heart beat faster as he remembered what he held. He kicked off his shoes before walking past the living room and into the bedroom where he lay the box down on the floor by his bed. Despite being home alone, he closed and locked his bedroom door, or tried to lock it before remembering, not for the first time, that his dad had broken the lock years ago in a fit of rage.

He rummaged through his closet to find the old pump that came with the Dollar Store soccer ball his dad bought him for his ninth birthday, laying it beside the box once he pulled it out.

Now Craig opened the box. He reached beneath the doll to pull it out and lay it on his bed, stretching it out as if she were sleeping on the bed.

"Why would a blow-up doll have clothes?" he asked himself while staring at her. "Or shoes?"

Her deflated feet were covered by rubbery red heels while her body and legs were hidden by a navy blue dress with white polka dots that reached down past her knees. He sat beside the doll and touched the pearls, lifting them to see how each were attached to her neck. Unlike the rest of the outfit, the necklace felt solid to the touch.

With a look towards his closed door, he lifted the hem of her dress and grunted when it barely pulled away from her body. He pulled at it and turned her over on the bed to tug at the clothing but it was sealed to her.

"Aw, fuck," Craig sighed.

It wasn't a blow-up doll at all. And now, with it turned on its "stomach" he saw the back was completely open, all the way to the head with a shiny zipper edging the opening. The legs and arms were hollow. Craig reached in, pressing his fingers into the head.

All empty. As if to be worn. But the eyes were solid, not clear; there was no way to see out.

"Well, that's a fucking waste of money," he groaned with disgust, balling it up and shoving it into the box. He kicked the box under his bed with a mental note to throw it away in the dumpster outside Quick-E-Chicken at the end of the block

Craig grabbed his backpack, digging through it until he found his math book. He'd dreamed of becoming an electrician and he'd decided he'd need to be better at math for that to work. He easily lost himself in his homework until he finished math and moved onto English. An essay was due at the end of the week and he'd only just barely come up with an introduction.

The evening wore on while Craig studied and worked until he got ready for bed.

Only when he was lying down with his eyes closed did he remember the doll. Or whatever it was. She

was

pretty, whatever she was supposed to be.

"Something for an old movie?" he muttered, staring at the wall beside his bed through half closed eyes.

He tried to imagine why an actress would wear something like that but nothing came to mind. They would just hire someone they needed, wouldn't they? He thought he could see her with his eyes closed, swirling in her blue dress with her hands out at her sides. Smiling at him. And once more, his chest ached as he fell asleep.

Craig jerked awake from a strange dream that faded as quickly as his eyes opened. He looked down to see himself hard but he pushed at it while rubbing his temples. There'd been... something. Someone. A feeling of warmth that melted away. He shook his head and got ready for school while listening to his dad snoring.

The day passed with Craig avoiding Lenny at every possibility until his friend tracked him down. He shook his head when asked what was wrong and whether he was avoiding him and then did his best to keep his friend out of trouble until the day was over. He rushed home then, to dress for work at Quick-E-Chicken.

Craig's foot bumped the box beneath his bed while he buttoned his work shirt. He blinked and looked down at it to see the rubbery arm hanging out of the opening with the hand against the floor. He'd forgotten about it completely. For a moment he considered grabbing it to throw it away but he was already late so left it alone.

Work was busy, as always, cooking food for customers and occasionally chatting with his coworkers. They were older than him and it was almost like they lived in an entirely different dimension. Their paths had taken them somewhere else and they were able to banter easily back and forth while he quietly stood by, soaking it in and trying to find the right time to speak up. To belong.

When he was done with his half shift, he clocked out and headed home with a bag of food. One of the "perks" of working at the fast food restaurant. One free meal a shift. He ate while working on his homework, brushing crumbs away from his papers before the grease soaked in.

Bedtime came quickly and he shuffled out of the bathroom with a yawn.

The arm still lay out of the box. He frowned at it before pulling the box from beneath the bed to open it and lift the strange thing free.

He felt more frustrated than usual. Jennifer, one of his coworkers, was a little older than him and he had a massive crush on her, despite the fact that she had a boyfriend. They didn't often share the same shift but, when they did, he caught himself staring more than he should. Which, thankfully, she didn't notice.

Craig held the rubber woman out in front of him by the arms, as if she sat on his lap with her legs against his shins and her open back against his chest.

An idea took root within him but he blushed at the thought of it. Still, the house was empty and he hated the idea of wasting his money.

The boy lay the rubber suit aside in order to strip out of his clothes, dropping them in a pile on the floor beside the box. He was hard now and it left him feeling slightly ashamed, despite nobody else being present.

He sat and took the suit in hand once more, lowering it in order to slip his right foot inside. It was warm, more so than the surrounding air and a small part of his brain registered the strangeness of that. He gathered the "skin" of the suit's leg in one hand while pushing his foot down as far as it could go. Since it was rubbery, he'd expected it to grab at his skin and hair but it slid smoothly, allowing him to get his toes down into the suit's foot. The heel filled out and stretched as he pulled until it was strained around him. He ignored it and pressed his left foot inside, sliding it down in the same way.

Craig gasped. The suit held him tightly, compressing with the perfect amount of pressure and it was still warm but not uncomfortably so. He looked down at it, at the way the dress lay over his bare thighs. The incongruity of his throbbing cock with the hairless "flesh" of the suit as well as the dress and strange heels was disconcerting.

Still, he could feel it serving its purpose. He'd had the idea to masturbate while wearing the legs to give the illusion of a woman being there with him and now he felt himself growing even more aroused.

His skin stirred. Tiny hairs lifted and he shivered as goosebumps lifted over his body. A warm finger traced over his spine, forcing him to sit straight.

"Oh!" he gasped again when the ghostly finger ran along his nape.

He touched himself and his chest lifted when his breathing quickened. He slid his legs out to stare at them while stroking but his eyes strayed to the suit. To the flopping arms.

Craig blinked once, twice and then lifted one of the arms. The hands were delicate little things with long, fake nails painted crimson to match the lipstick she "wore." He held the chest of the suit to slide his right arm in, stretching the rubber and then flexing his fingers until he found the proper holes for each of them.

"Oh, wow," he said, staring at the way his arm looked. He turned it around and around, staring at the smooth, pale skin. The illusion was incredible. Now he quickly inserted his left arm, eagerly pushing it as far as it would go before seating all the fingers in place.

The head of the suit flopped beneath his chin but he was lost staring at the bosom. He hadn't realized before but, unlike the rest of the suit, these are solid. But not like the pearls. He reached up, watching his arms until he touched the front of the dress. The suit's breasts were semi-solid and spongy, not what he'd expect real breasts to feel like but it was

something

and in his heightened state, he could stop touching them. Squeezing them. Massaging them until he found the little bumps near the center of each - the nipples.

His breath was hot and fast with his cock aching against his body beneath the front of the suit.

Craig took the head in his hands lifting it until it touched his face. He pressed and then reached behind to tug it in place. While it might not be a real blow-up doll, he could see himself stroking his cock through the suit while playing the the breasts and imagining-

The boy blinked and stared down at himself.

"But, the eyes weren't clear," he said.

The lips sealed themselves to him, full and curved. He coughed when the mouth pushed into his own mouth until he swallowed and his tongue lifted and flexed. Pressure surrounded him as the suit connected to his body and

pushed

inward.

"Oh, god!" Craig gasped, raising his head with his mouth open and his pure, blue eyes wide. The pearls clinked softly against his delicate neck while his Adam's apple crunched quietly and faded away. His voice cracked and raised in pitch. "What's- what's happening to-"

His chin lifted while his cheekbones pushed forward and his fleshy cheeks tightened. The effect spread down from his head in a wave of invisible hooks. He shook and his breasts jiggled beneath his soft dress.

"No, no, no!" he shouted, grabbing at the bulge of his crotch beneath his shrinking stomach.

He could feel the flesh moving against his belly, soft skin sliding against smooth skin. Shrinking. Twisting. He stood, pawing at the front of his dress. He grabbed the bottom and lifted to see the white panties beneath. They bulged slightly over his cock but were already pulling flat. He shrieked, his voice high and pure, and pulled at the front of the panties to see his hairless mound and the recessed line of his pussy.

Before he could try to touch himself to see if it was really gone, the suit clenched around his hips and he moaned while shoving his ass out. With his dress lifted, he could just barely see the curve of his rounded, taut cheeks.

Craig took a step towards the small mirror on his desk. He stumbled but caught himself on the edge of his bed. He could feel his toes flexing while his arches shortened and he stared down to see the gray heels covering his feet growing solid. He took another step, wobbling on the heels with their stems pressing into the carpet. His knees wavered, turning out and then in as he tried another step.

His chest pulled him forward. Craig stood straight and his back relaxed slightly when his breasts lay flat against his body. Another step on awkward legs brought him close enough to grab the mirror with his slim fingers.

It was

her.

He stared at the face in the mirror and only saw the woman - her dark lashes, full red lips and the sparkling earrings attached to her lobes. Her blonde, faux bob hair was perfectly curled around her neck and he could

feel

the hair brushing his bare skin. He angled the mirror down to see the generous cleavage and then below to her slim stomach.

His heart raced and he saw the woman's chest rising and falling in return.

The mirror dropped from Craig's nerveless fingers. He reached behind him, feeling for the zipper but all he touched was the dress and, higher, bare skin beneath his neck. His fingers scrabbled upwards until he felt a small bump beneath his hair. He pressed and the bump hardened. The more he pressed, the more he could feel the shape of a zipper's slider. When he snatched his hand away in shock, it vanished to leave smooth skin and perfect hair behind.

"What the shit?" he shouted with the woman's beautiful voice. He pressed his hand against his mouth to feel her smooth palms against his curved, full lips. With a cautious, curious movement, he slid his hand back and forth, amazed at how sensitive it felt.

"No, no fucking way, no," he said, reaching once more for the spot on his head. The slider appeared with force and he pulled, feeling the suit separating as he unzipped until he folded in half against his body, just beneath his limp, twitching penis.