The excitement of having signed her first ever lease on a new apartment waned to next to nothing as Shelby looked at the daunting task of moving. She’d never considered just how much junk she’d accumulated over the years. So little of important, so much of it just, stuff, for lack of a better word.

Now three giant cardboard boxes sat on the floor against the wall, with plenty more boxes and rolls of packing tape waiting in the wings for any to be filled. Scrawled on each box in black sharpie was a simple one word label. KEEP on the left, DONATE in the middle, and TRASH on the right. The organizational strategy had taken her the better part of three hours, due almost entirely to procrastinating.

Some things were easy. Every single pair of her shoes went into KEEP. Some of her clothes she hadn’t worn in over a year went into DONATE, but there was no way anyone else was wearing her shoes, even the heels she never wore because they were a half size too small and incredibly uncomfortable had to be kept.

Others were harder. A massive accumulation of all the toys she’d ever collected dominated most of her closet and spilled out into the bedroom proper. Big plastic bins of Barbie dolls, the entire top shelf of her closet was crammed to the ceiling with stuffed animals, even a box of her baby dolls she’d not opened in years. Each one a nostalgia trip down memory lane with no place in her new life.

As she tried to compact the DONATE box from the overflowing mountain of toys into something she could actually close, Shelby felt something grab back at her hands as she plunged them into the pile. She wrenched back her hand to find one of her Barbies seemingly clinging to her wrist, the toy’s plastic limbs wrapped around her own.

“What the hell?” Shelby grabbed it with her free hand, trying to pull it off, but the toy didn’t budge, its arms and legs digging into her wrist so tightly that it was starting to hurt. “Get off!”

The request wasn’t meant to illicit a response, and the young woman’s jaw dropped when a high-pitched feminine voice shouted back an emphatic “No!”

Surely she was hearing things. Or she’d accidentally triggered another old toy with a voice box whose batteries hadn’t died years ago. Slowly she turned her wrist to see the front of the Barbie. The doll’s head looked up at her, its painted-on eyes looking deep into her own.

“We don’t want to go!”

Shelby screamed. The doll’s tiny plastic lips had moved, voicing the words. She shook her hand furiously, trying to shake the possessed thing off as she backed away from the box. Something was behind her feet and she tripped, falling over backwards. Her arms pinwheeled, the Barbie clinging the entire time, before she crashed onto something soft. Looking under her, she saw a stuffed teddy bear and squirrel looking up at her as they tried to drag themselves out from under her.

“What the fuck?!!”

She had to be going crazy. All of her toys were moving; a well-loved, one-eyed baby doll was stooping to help pull trapped stuffies out from under her. Mr. Bodiddly, a stuffed orangutang her high school boyfriend had won for her at a carnival was using its long arms to scoop more squirming, moving, living toys back out of the DONATION box she had just put them in.

“You’ve been a bad friend,” the Barbie still cling to her wrist said. Two more Barbie dolls joined her, grabbing and holding her wrist down. They were surprisingly strong, and between the three of them they managed to hold the grown woman’s arm down even as she strained to regain control of her limb.

“You’ve ignored us for years, and now you want to donate us?!” An incredulous sounding plush bunny said as it grabbed her other arm. She couldn’t even remember the name she’d given that one. Cottontail, Floppy Ears, something basic like that the toddler version of her had found endearing.

“You, you’re just toys!” She couldn’t believe she was even addressing them. She’d talked to them when she was playing with them, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had imagination adventures with her toys.

“So what?” An American Girl doll asked. She’d begged her mom to buy her that one, she remembered being so good for two whole months before Christmas to make sure there was no reason her parents could justify not giving it to her, and then she’d lost interested in half that time. “We’re your toys.”

“And you haven’t been a very good friend to us,” a newly freed from the DONATION box stuffed kangaroo said as it hopped towards her.

“Not a good friend at all,” the joey in its pouch added. It scrounged around in the pouch until it pulled out an old, almost empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter out and tossed them on the floor in front of her, forcing her to remember having used the toy to store all sorts of contraband in as a teen.

“If I’d known you all were real, I wouldn’t have done that,” she stammered. “I can be a better friend, I promise.”

“I’ll hear no more promises from that one!” her old Furby shouted. “You promised you’d get me fresh batteries. I’m still waiting!”

“That wasn’t me, Furby! Mom found you annoying, not me!” It wasn’t technically a lie, but when her mom had suggested that maybe she take a break from the constantly chattering toy, she’d agreed pretty quickly and never revisited the idea of replacing the thing’s batteries, and so it had sat on the shelf in her closet, buried under other forgotten toys until now.

“It’s your turn to be silent!” the Furby shrieked, its eyes rolling around in its head crazily.

Her lone Ken doll ran past a cheering throng of Barbies, holding a big yellow stress ball in both hands. Like a tiny basketball player going in for a slam dunk, the toy leapt into the air and brought the ball down with both hands into her mouth, still open wide in shock at what was happening.

“Oooo, Ken!” the Barbie’s all swooned.

“That’s right, doll face, just be happy,” he said to Shelby, reciting the words written on the ball, just below a happy smiley face.

“Mmmmphhh!” Shelby was anything but happy, screaming and immediately trying to eject the ball out, but the foam had immediately expanded, filling her mouth, pinning her tongue. She tried to sit up and bring her arms up, bringing the toys holding her down with her, but more immediately jumped in to help their brethren. They swarmed her, dozens upon dozens of plastic hands and stuffed paws grabbing her.

“Grab her legs!”

“Bring that jump rope over here!”

“Help me up here, she’s trying to spit out the ball!”

“Ooh, grab that tape!”

Within minutes, the toys had her completely helpless, bound and gagged with items she meant to donate and the tape meant to pack the boxes. Her left middle and right index fingers were locked together behind her back, trapped in a Chinese finger trap. She’d played with the thing briefly before tossing it in the box, quickly figuring out the trick to getting free, but that was easier said than done when she had her old jump rope tied around her body, pinning her wrists to her back. Trying to pull her hands away from her body enough to try and free her fingers from the trap made the vinyl cord dig painfully into her soft stomach and wrists. A bent slinky that hadn’t yet made its way into TRASH was wound around her legs, her sweatpants barely shielding her from the harsh bite of metal digging into her skin. About half the roll of packing tape had been wrapped around her mouth, trapping her smooshed features under a thick layer of clear tape and tangling in her hair as the toys wound it around her head, the stress ball’s message still barely visible, a wrinkled smiley face and the reminder to “be happy,” and in this case, happy was quiet.

“Mmmph,” she groaned weakly, amazed at just how helpless a few dozen small scraps of plastic and stuffing and felt had made her. She wiggled and flopped on the floor as the toys stepped back slightly, confident that their owner wasn’t going anywhere.

“Now we can have a discussion about what you were planning to do with us,” the Furby said, shuffling towards her face.

“Dmmunffnn?!” Shelby rolled onto her side, trying to slowly wiggle hers fingers free of the devious trap, only to feel minuscule plastic hands wrapping more packing tape tightly around her hands.

“After all the years together, we waited and waited for you to take us out again. We were so happy today when you started getting us all out. We thought it was gonna be like old times again.”

“You’ve been a bad friend,” one of her Barbies said. Shelby’s eyes widened when she saw what the tiny toy was dragging out of her closet with both hands. It was a ping pong paddle, something that should have been gotten rid of a long time ago when her parents had sold the accompanying table. Somehow it had remained in her closet all these years, unused, unneeded, and unwanted.

“You know what happens to people when they’re bad?” her stuffed bunny, Luther, said, taking the paddle from the smaller toy and swinging it experimentally.

“Nnnffnngggg! Aaammm nnnggtttt bmmmdff!”

Luther circled her, tapping the paddle against his paw. Shelby squirmed, trying to follow, but more toys held the bound girl down, until the stuffed bunny disappeared behind her. She flailed her head back and forth, trying to look over her shoulder.

“They get punished.”

WHAP

The ping pong paddle connected solidly against her butt.

“MMMMPHHHH!!!” She screamed into her gag as pain seared through her backside, thrashing against her diminutive captors, sending several smaller toys flying.

“Hold her still!” a high-pitched Barbie voice screamed, and the toys rushed back to their owner, dozens of tiny hands made of plastic and rubber and felt grabbing her.

One of her baby dolls, a ratty old thing that had seen too much attention from a small child, grabbed her face, its battered plastic hands gripping the tape plastered across her cheeks. The doll forced her to look into its cracked and worn eyes. “You used to spank me when I was naughty.”

She didn’t even remember that; it must have happened when she was very young. Surely as a toddler playing with her baby doll she would have spanked her toy while playing pretend, but she shouldn’t be held responsible for that. Shelby couldn’t voice that argument though, the stress ball absorbing her pleas as her spanking continued. Flecks of foam seeped through the spongy material as her pleas turned into desperate yelps of pain when her pants and panties were yanked down and she felt the sting of the rubber coated paddle connect with her bare flesh.

“It’s okay,” the baby doll said, its voice anything but consoling to the helpless girl being spanked by her toys. “You just have to learn your lesson.”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. Anything to make it stop, she’d learn anything her neglected toys wanted her to.

Finally, the spanking stopped. Shelby sniffled, trying to compose herself. The toys had all backed away from her. “Mmmphh?” She moaned questioningly, following all of their gazes, dozens of cold plastic eyes all staring at the same thing. A huge brown paw erupted out of the box, gripping the side just above the sharpie scrawled word. TRASH.

Shelby knew that paw. She’d better, having only put its owner in the box twenty minutes ago. It seemed like a lifetime ago, before she realized all her toys were sentient and capable of both moving and holding grudges. The latter fact scared her the most.

Creatively named Mr. Bear, the four-foot-tall giant stuffed bear laboriously pulled itself up, standing on disproportionally thin back legs, the majority of the stuffing having migrated towards the bears bloated middle long ago. The bear leaned over the side of the box, looking at the box’s label between its two big paws.

“Trash, Shelby?”

“Awwffmmm pphhrrrmmyy!!” she pleaded into her gag.

“After all we’ve been through? You were ready to toss me out like garbage?”

“Nnnmmph!! Yyrrrrnnn nuummph phrapghfff!” Even if they’d let her speak, they’d have known she was lying. She’d thrown him in the trash, and there was no denying it.

“I was, I was your first, Shelby.” He sounded genuinely hurt, his sewn-on smile scrunched to an expression of mourning.

“Pllmmphh!” Even as she tried to beg, she blushed above her gag. The things she’d down with that bear. Just a young girl discovering her sexuality, before she even understood what she was doing, only that her big stuffed animal was just the right size, and if she climbed up on top of him, wrapping her thighs around his soft body, she could grind that sensitive spot between her legs against the toy. She’d had her first orgasm humping that bear. The first of many, before she’d discovered more mature ways to take care of her needs, and she’d stuffed the bear deep in her closet, just as she’d tried to repress the memories of being a horny little teen humping away at her stuffy like a horny dog. Repressed, but not forgotten, and it was that reason Mr. Bear had found himself relegated to the TRASH box. She couldn’t imagine donating the toy, not after what she’d done to it.

“Why, Shelby?”

She was almost grateful for the stress ball stuffed in her mouth. She didn’t have to try and explain to her toy why she was ashamed.

Mr. Bear climbed out of the box. He looked so much bigger, bigger even than he had even when she was a child, towering over the helpless girl tied up on the floor. “I guess these are your new toys now,” he said, leaning over the KEEP box. “I guess you think these can take care of you better than I did.” The stuffed bear fished around in the box, and lifted out her magic wand.

“I’m sorry I don’t vibrate for you,” he said, turning on the device, holding it over her. “I thought having to work towards a climax was good for you. Just the two of us, our bodies together, just the percussion of our passion. Not this battery powered easy button.”

She squealed as he dropped the wand in front of her face, where it started to roll around in a circle, carrying by its vibrations.

“Or was this what you wanted?” Mr. Bear fished something else out of the KEEP box. It was one of her dildos. She recognized it immediately, and was grateful that the monstrous silicon phallus hadn’t gained sentience either. It had been one of those purchases where she’d absolutely been too horny to be shopping online, and when it had finally arrived, looking at the eleven inch, ribbed, girthy monster that probably would have torn her in half, she’d made the decision to never put it inside her. But still it was in the KEEP box, maybe an aspirational choice, maybe because she’d spent way too much money on it to justify just throwing it away.

And now Mr. Bear had it, holding it in front of his fuzzy, notably genital free crotch. “If I had one of these, maybe you’d still want me.”

“Nnnmmmnnfff!” she screamed, shaking her head.

“I miss when we used to play,” the bear said, striding towards her, holding the dildo between his legs. The heavy thing swayed back and forth, looming towards her face. Like the bear, it was far bigger than she remembered. He rubbed the tip across her face, the silicone sliding over the tight tape wound over her mouth. “One more time, for old times’ sake.” The bear lumbered past her, moving behind her, his tattered fur brushing against her exposed flesh. “I bet I can make you rethink putting me in the trash.” Strong furry hands grabbed her hips, pulling her well spanked ass up. “At the very least, I can make you regret it.” She could feel his furry mouth against her ear.

“Mmmmnmfff,” she moaned as she was pushed up onto her knees, her pants and underwear still tangled around them, and bent over, exposed, vulnerable. Ready.

The toy dick pressed against her pussy. A monstrous toy meant for a monstrous toy, Mr. Bear forced himself into her. Bound up by her toys, she was helpless to stop him. All those times as a horny young girl she had used him, and now he was returning the favor, grunting like a real animal as he thrust into her. She tried to bury her face in the carpet but a strong paw grabbed her hair and yanked back hard, forcing her to look up and face the throng of toys watching while Mr. Bear took her. They had once been hers, her toys, her possessions, but now she was theirs. She understood what it truly meant to be a helpless plaything.

Shelby awoke with a gasp. She was soaked in sweat, tangled in her sheets on her bed. Tearing herself free, she looked around her room. The boxes were still mostly full, her toys staring at the ceiling, lifelessly.

It was just a dream. She’d taken a nap while packing, falling asleep in the afternoon sun. Shelby sat up, eyeing the boxes warily. It had seemed so real though, so vivid. Cautiously the disoriented girl reached back, apprehensively touching her butt. Her pants were still up, and albeit being hot and sweaty, she didn’t feel like she’d been spanked. She felt under her waistband, finding her panties were absolutely drenched, from more than just sweat.

Never taking her eyes off of her packing boxes, she peeled her sweatpants and panties off before getting to her feet. Everything was still in the boxes, all the stuffed animals and dolls that had tied her up, the stress ball that had gagged her, the ping pong paddle that had been used to spank her. Her KEEP box still held her adult toys, her magic wand, her vibrators, her dildos. There it was, the behemoth she’d never used, not in reality anyways, poking up through several more reasonably sized phallic toys, inviting her to use it.

And there, in the TRASH box, unceremoniously crammed in upside down with one paw sticking up was Mr. Bear. He looked almost pathetic, bunched up and squished into a cube shape there on the floor, and she pulled him back out, shaking him loose. His head flopped to the side, his stuffing all misplaced.

“I’m sorry I thought about throwing you out.” She felt silly as she said it, a grown woman talking to her toys. The memory of the dream lingered though, kindling a familiar itch between her legs. An apology wasn’t enough; she needed to be punished.

Shelby took off her shirt and bra, blushing as she stood before her toys completely naked. The stress ball felt just like it did in her dream when she stuffed it into her mouth. Her hands were trembling with excitement as she wrapped the packing tape around her mouth. “Mmmmphhh,” she moaned, testing her gag. That was much better, they didn’t want to hear her apologies. She grabbed the dildo and climbed up onto Mr. Bear. The perfect combination of something old and familiar, and something new and daunting. Perhaps she had room in her new place to take all of her old toys. She certainly wasn’t done with them.