Vibrating Vickie. {Adult Short]

Vibrating Vickie. {Adult Short]

A Story by OscarRat

Daddy’s special rubber girlfriend.

Listen up, boys and girls, and I'll tell you the story of Vibrating Vicki.

You see, one day in a factory downtown a naked lady lies down in a box full of special sand. What? No, it was not your mama, Janie. I don't think so, anyway. 

Well, some workers poured more sand over her, and they all waited for the sand to get hard. 

When the lady stood back up, there was a hole in the sand, looking just like her. The workers then did the same thing to her front side, making two boxes of hard sand with an impression. Yes, Lois? You don't know the word? Let's see. An im-press-ion is something that looks like something else, only hollow. Those boxes then had an im-press-ion of that naked lady.

Then the two boxes of sand were carefully fitted together, leaving a hollow im-press-ion, of the lady inside. What, Betty? No, Betty, the lady was not inside. She got out earlier and, yes, she put her clothes back on. It was cold in the factory.

Well, another worker, maybe your daddy or uncle, put a bar of plastic in one end of a big machine. The machine melted the plastic and, with a strong wind, blew it inside the box -- without the naked lady inside.

The plastic got cold again and stayed all over the im-press-ion inside. Later, when the box was opened, the plastic was like a big, big, balloon, in the same shape as the naked lady, only flat. Why, Davie? Because the naked lady wasn't inside no more, is why. It was like a naked lady's skin, with nothing inside. What good was it? I'll get to that later, Julie. I know it was icky.

Well, next, a worker pumped air into the plastic and, "Whoof," it looked just like the naked lady had, everything the same. A woman inspected it and the plastic skin went down a conveyor belt to a waiting man. 

What's that, Ellie? A conveyor belt is a long thing that carries something from one place to another. Like the one in the supermarket that carries groceries to the clerk. And no, nobody ate the plastic skin ... well, maybe someone tried to later, I don't know.

That man, at the next place, glued rubber lips onto the plastic lady, then put a long thin thing into its mouth. No, Larry, not a tongue. It was like those things you might find under your Mommy's bed in the morning. Yes, like a balloon. This one, though, had a battery inside that made it shake real fast and make it get hot. Well ... I dunno, Larry. That's a good question. It just might be used to heat hotdogs. 

After that, two more women put the same long balloon thing in other places. Another man then glued hair in the right places.

When they were all done, the plastic skin that looked like the naked lady looked even more like the naked lady. It was ready for testing.

To be tested, it went into another room, one you kiddies can't see into. A secret testing room where special men ... well, just made sure it worked and didn’t break easy. They thought it was a good job and could brag to their friends about what they did for a living. Well, Jerry, uh ... I suppose that job could be fun. I don’t really know.

What, Jerry? How did they have fun? Not now. You'll find out in a few years. You'll have to wait.

It was carefully folded, then packed into a nice new box, one with "Sexy Sally Enterprises" written in big letters on the front. Then the box was put into a larger box, along with eleven others just like it. No, Sally, it wasn't you. Don't be scared. Nobody's gonna put you in a box. You sexy? Well, we'll have to wait a few years. Believe me, you'll know by then.

Weeks later, still with no name, the thing -- then called a blow-up-doll -- was unpacked and put on a shelf. 

All day long, men like your daddy would come in and look, squeeze, dribble, and fantasize. Trina? Well, fantasizing means like Brer Rabbit thought about the tar pit. Not like dribbling a basketball, Tommy.

Finally, a man, maybe your uncle, bought the doll. Uh, Tammy? No, you might, but I don't think your mama will buy you one. They're only for big boys to play with.

The man took it home and unpacked the doll, hurrying to blow it up real big. Since it had a heater built in, he used it in bed, like an electric blanket that vibrates and makes you feel good. Yes, it did make him feel good. Better than an electric blanket. And he finally gave it its own name. Vibrating Vicki, he called it.

Like with your dollies, Jennie, he played with it and loved it for many years. When he got married, he let the air out and put it in his closet.

You did, Jimmy? Really? Then you know all about Vicki. Tell mommy. She'll be interested. I'll bet she doesn't even know it's in his garage.

And that's the story of Vibrating Vicki. (Wheeew!)

The End.
Oscar Rat

© 2019 OscarRat

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I've seen many sand moldings in my life & they have a rumpled surface texture that nobody would want to feel on their sex doll. Maybe if you lined the sand crater with something smooth, this would be more believable to me. I'm just stuck on this pesky detail, but overall, this is well-detailed, conversational, and a little unexpected, as far as thinking this was going to be more amorous than it turns out to be! Here's hoping you & yours are well (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

Posted 3 Months Ago

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1 Review
Added on November 24, 2019
Last Updated on November 24, 2019
Tags: humor, adult




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A Story by OscarRat