Teddys Second Chance

"You could at least say something, Teddy," Chastity Howell said, hugging the bear.

That fucking bear. I'd spent a lot of quarters at the boardwalk trying to get it for her. I'm not sure she even wanted it. Little did I know how important it would become to me in just a few days. It was huge, and it was blocking my view when I turned to look at the right. At least there was a light.

"What do you want me to say?" I asked. "I asked you why you were breaking up with me, and you kept dodging." I sighed. "What does it even matter? Our moms wanted us to date, we did it out of obligation. And you're right, we don't fit together."

"Why are you being like this?" she asked. "I know you care. Couldn't you just be honest?" Her voice was breaking.

I was getting frustrated. "I'll be honest when you are." After a pause, I added, "And I don't want to say anything I'll regret."

"Aren't you going to try and talk me out of-" she began.

I cut her off. "No. You made your decision, and it frankly is easier for me. I liked you enough to wait for you," the light turned green and I accelerated "but I don't like you enough to die a vir-"

Twenty tons of metal and garbage cut me off. The dump truck, I'd later learn, had been doing fifty in a 25 mile per hour zone when it ran the red and smashed into the driver side of my car. I don't remember the crash. My vision turned white for what seemed to be half a second.

To my right, everything seemed normal except that Chastity's long blond hair was messed up and the curtain airbag was deployed. For some reason, I was convinced that her hair had shifted in some way, like it wasn't attached to her head. That distracted me so much I didn't realize she was in mid-scream. And her voice sounded like she'd been screaming for quite a while. "-SWER ME, TEDDY!" she was yelling, her voice fading in like God was slowly turning up the volume.

"Whuh..." I gurgled. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a person in a city sanitation uniform stagger-run away. Inside, I felt something shift. I suddenly realized it was my rib.

I tried to move my head. I couldn't. I instead looked at the mirror by moving my eyes. It had been knocked loose by the impact, but it was in such a way that gave me a good overview of my situation. Let's just say that even though I wasn't a doctor, I knew that I was dying.

I decided that I didn't want her last memory of me to be of our breakup fight. I reached out to her with my right hand, groaning "Chas..." She flinched away from me. It hurt, surprisingly more than the damage to my body, but I understood. I missed her arm but stroked the bear. "Don't... remember this. Remember the good..."

And with that, my strength was spent. My arm fell across my Toyota's central console, and everything faded out. That's where things should have ended. Me dying, my ex-girlfriend screaming in horror at my broken corpse.

But that wouldn't be an interesting story, would it?

I was suddenly on the floor of a dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. If I could have, I would've blinked in surprise. I could see candlelight out of the corner of my eyes and smell burning wax. Interestingly, I could feel someone regarding me with disgust.

"Did you work?" I heard a voice murmur. It was so low I shouldn't have been able to identify the person, but I could hear the same words from them in my mind a split second before she said them like some sort of reverse echo. I recognized the voice, and honestly, I would've preferred to continue to continue my pre-being-crunched-by-a-dump-truck chat with Chastity rather than spend a second with this... person.

Why does my body feel weird?

I tried to ask. I felt... soft. And I couldn't move. The ceiling was plaster, like a house or apartment, not the tile I'd expect from a hospital. Something strange was going on.

Even stranger, I could feel the question I'd just mentally asked sort of... float out of my head and into the head of the other person in the room. And when it connected, I could tell that she had a choice. She could either interrogate it or accept it as her own. She dismissed something out of hand with a flash of arrogance, but a split second before that, I had a flash of me on the couch in my apartment, my dick peeking out of the fly of my pajama pants and her utter contempt. The thought I had sent to her then warped and I heard her voice say

If he's in there, he must feel strange. Being a stuffed animal must be fucked up.

Needless to say, I was shocked.

What?

I thought. This time, I noticed that the thought didn't fly out and lodge in her mind.

The person then began putting out the candles that had been set up around me. At one point, she stood over my face and I could see up the skirt of her black sun dress. She was wearing lacey black panties.

Typical,

I thought to myself.

As she moved, I could hear her mind racing. If I could only see and hear her, she would have seemed nonchalant. She was even whistling to herself. But in her mind, she was worrying about something, a plan of some sort. When she was done cleaning, she picked me up and propped me on a bed.

The room I was in was Chastity's bedroom. I'd never been in it before when I was alive, Chastity had always lived up to her name to an insane degree. Still, it was obviously hers. It was all nice wood and Christian music posters. Despite her, well, chastity, she had a king-sized bed. Opposite it was a mirror and I finally got a good look at myself.

I was a bear now. To be specific, I was now in the body of the stuffed bear I'd won for Chastity. I was four and a half feet of velvet and plush, with black bead eyes. Most of my body was long blond silk designed to mimic hair. My stomach was a dark brown velvet. The pads of my feet were black leather. This, to put it mildly, was not ideal.

Then the bitch herself leaned in front of me. Faith Howell. When I'd first met her, I thought she and Chastity were twins. They both had the same high-cheekboned face, but Faith's hair was dark black while Chastity was a dirty blond. After getting to know her better, I began thinking of her as the evil twin, and it wasn't because she was a goth or more sexually liberated. Then Chastity told me Faith was her older step-sister from her father's previous marriage. At that point, I began thinking of her as the wicked step-sister.

Despite having the same color and shape of eyes, Faith's eyes were always somewhat sad and a little scared. Chastity's light brown eyes, however, always had an air of smug cruelty about them.

As she came into view, her lips were pursed. "This'd better work," she said, and again I heard that weird pre-echo.

Look,

I thought, trying to, I don't know, think at her in the way I thought at her before?

You're a comic book super villain. Tell me your evil plan. I know you want to.

Once again, the thought floated from my head to hers. And once again, I could feel what I was starting to suspect was her subconscious analyze it. I began to wonder if I could make her realize I was talking to her, or if I could phrase things so she'd be less likely to realize it was me who was speaking. I shuddered at that last idea, or would have if I was capable of voluntary motion. That ability could lead to some dark places. Especially with my predilections.

Meanwhile, I sensed a desire to talk building in Faith. There was a lot of pride in her. Finally, she said, "Fuck it. Chas doesn't have cameras." She gave me a sly look. "You know,

Mikey,"

she said, and I groaned in frustration because I hated being called Mikey even more than Teddy, "you'd probably call this my evil plan, or something nerdy and overly dramatic like that." She chuckled. "That's probably why you couldn't get any pussy even though you're a Barret. Instead, you ended up trailing after Chastity, cucked by her weird religious hang-ups her mother imposed. You're fucking pathetic." That last bit she spit out with a hell of a lot of venom. Then she smiled smugly. "But you're a guy, and you're straight, and, well, we all know your little secret. You'll do what I want you to.

"You see," she said, "Daddy dearest was as much a piece of shit as he was rich. He left my mom as soon as I was born, you know? Left her nothing, and somehow got himself hooked by Chas' mom." I'd heard a lot about Chastity and Faith's dad. Not from either of them. Chastity refused to speak ill of him, and as a consequence didn't say much. And I didn't talk to Faith if I could help it. The guy was an asshole, a womanizer, and possibly a rapist, if the rumors I'd heard about him were true. I hadn't spoken to him much, he'd died a year or two after I met his daughters.

Then Faith's voice got very small and for the first time I heard something in it that wasn't anger, boredom, or sadistic glee. "Did you know my mom died a year after

she

was born? I could have lived with her parents, but..." She trailed off, the memory too painful. "Anyway, my wicked step-mother and her parents didn't like the way it looked, me not being with my dad. Neither did his parents. And Christina had a good nuptial agreement, unlike my mom. And all five of them had money in dad's companies they could pull out if he upset them. So he took me in."

She shook her head. "Enough of the super villain origin story."

As soon as she said that, I heard her think,

Wait, why am I talking about comic book shit? He can't be affecting me, can he?

Faster than I could catch it, the image of me on the couch in my apartment came up again. Faith had some significance attached to it that I couldn't make out.

No,

she thought, dismissing whatever the incident was,

that doesn't count.

I wanted to ask what didn't count, but for some reason, I decided to hold back.

The whole process took significantly less than a second. The only reason I knew about it was because for some reason I could read her mind. "Now here's the interesting bit, the part why you're here. Dad's will left almost everything, except trusts and college funds, to Christina. Christina is dying." If I could, I'd be nodding along. Christina Howell was dying of cardiac cancer. The news had been shocking to me not because she was in her forties, but because I was surprised she had a heart for a tumor to grow in. All the other things it had rapidly moved to, I could understand, but her heart? She couldn't have had one to begin with, seeing as how she treated Chastity and Faith.

"Now," Faith was going on, "Christina has to give some stuff to me, both for appearances sake and because dad and his parents wanted it. But I'm not sure I want anything from her. My trust fund's enough. I don't have to work as long as I can deal with not living in the utmost of luxury. But Chastity?" Here her grin became wicked. "Oh, Chastity has to live up to her mother's definition of purity or she gets

nothing.

If Christina catches her so much as flicking her bean, she's gone. Disinherited. No soup for her." She giggled. Then her face darkened like I had never seen before. "Maybe her losing her ticket won't gain me a single cent, but I don't care. I just want her to get nothing.

"But how do I get her to turn from oh-so-perfect virgin to complete slut? Well," with this, her smile came back, "I am a witch, just like Christina always suspected. There was this spell I found on the internet. It required a soul, and yours had just became available."

She smiled and leaned down on the bed and I got a good view of her cleavage. It was an excellent view. They weren't the biggest, but they were pretty big and her sundress was doing amazing things to them. "You see, you get bound to an object and you become able to... infect others with your desires. And I know what your desires are. Christina's goons hacked your computer and she told us all what they found, fyi. That's why Chas dumped you." Rage and embarrassment filled me at that. Faith's casual violation, Christina's determination to ruin everyone's life, Chastity's... disgust? Spinelessness? Whatever, in that moment, I didn't care.

Then, something happened. I was silently raging by Chastity's pillows and Faith was at the end of the very, very long bed. Then Faith started crawling towards me. And that activated something.

"You see," Faith said, "I know what you crave. I read it. You're a little beta cuck who wants control in the most intimate way. You want Faith like this, huh? Crawling to you on her hands and knees, eager. To. Suck. Your. Cock."

Damn. She had been reading the mind control porn and listening to the bimbofication roleplays. She had almost got me. But the fantasy her words were conjuring didn't involve Chastity. Instead, I saw Faith crawling towards me, just like she was now, except meek and submissive instead of domineering.

And in response, I felt an enormous hard-on.

I did a mental double-take. I was a four-foot teddy. How the fuck was I getting a hard-on? Then I saw it. A plastic dildo was growing out from my fuzzy crotch. It was two feet long and ridiculously thick, its veiny shape made of a light brown plastic. And to me, it felt like I really had a hard-on. One of those ones where it's so hard it's almost painful. I needed it to be released.

Faith didn't have any awareness of what I was feeling, but I knew exactly what she was. As she watched it grow, I felt a warm current of satisfaction in her mind... and the pressure my horniness had on her.

"Oh." Faith said when it was half-grown. The amount of awe in that single syllable turned me on even more. "Well," she said, trying to get back into her usual smug, domineering mode, "I've seen bigger."

In fucking porn,

she thought.

Fuck. I never got the appeal of those monster cocks before but...

She stared at it, and I began to smell not just her perfume but her perspiration and arousal. Images flashed through her minds of all the things she could do with my cock, then justifications of how that was her being dominant and sadistic, actually. For a long instant, she seemed about to break.

I need to get out of here,

she suddenly thought. She tried to disguise it as being graceful, calm and collected, but she practically launched herself off the bed. "Well, I'll just leave you with blue balls," she said airily, desperately avoiding looking at me and my gigantic dick. "Have fun with my step-sister."

She then left the room, trying and failing to act like she had not almost lost control of herself. As I watched her panicked exit, I thought,

Well. Things just got weird and complicated, haven't they?