Entry tags:

fandom: dollhouse, femslash/yuri, rating: r

Sense Memory: Dollhouse Fic
Author: Bitterfig
Title: Sense Memory
Fandom: Dollhouse
Pairing: Echo/Sierra
Summary: Sierra was programmed to be sexless but her body remembered.
Beta Reader: Fedink
Word Count: 774
Rating: R
Warning: Sexual content.
Author’s Note: Written for femslash_today's Fireworks09 porn battle for the prompt “sense memory”.

Sense Memory

To avoid complications the residents of the Dollhouse were programmed to be void of sexuality; as neutral and neuter as an actual doll with a molded plastic doll crotch.

And yet…

Sierra did not remember but before, when she had a name and a will of her own, she had loved spicy food. Thai, Indian, Chinese, Mexican, anything with fiery peppers that would burn her mouth, give her hiccups and make tears flow down her cheeks. Meal as violent catharsis, but all that had been erased. All that was gone but still, sometimes when she was eating the perfectly nutritious, fresh and delicious but bland food provided by the Dollhouse, Sierra would feel a yearning for something she could not name or articulate. A longing for heat in the mouth, for watering eyes, for discomfort bordering on pain, for intensity.

Sometimes, when she watched Echo undress, in the shower or swimming in the pool she would feel the same sort of thing. A craving, a nameless desire. She wanted something but she couldn’t remember – or had never known – what.

Sometimes it got so bad she felt it physically, in the pit of her stomach, between her legs. It made her feel weak and tingly. Discomfort, bordering on pain, bordering on something else.

Sierra knew there were places in the Dollhouse no one could see. She didn’t know how she knew, but she knew. An aura of fear lingered over these spots, but she sought them out when she had her feelings. These feelings, they were special… private.

They had been doing yoga and in the dressing room to the shower Echo peeled away her clothes. She stood before Sierra, so pretty. Her breasts round and firm, tapering to her waist, the swell of her hips, the carefully trimmed patch of dark hair where her long, subtly muscled legs came together, above it all her eyes faun-wide and innocent. It gave Sierra her special feeling. She turned to leave.

“Wait,” Echo said. “Why do you go away?”

“I never go far,” Sierra said.

“I like it when you’re here.” Echo said.

“I feel odd sometimes,” Sierra admitted. “I need to sit down.”

“You should tell Dr. Sanders.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Dr. Sanders is nice. Dr. Sanders can make you feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better. I like it when I feel this way. Like I’ve run a long way, like I’ve done my best. I have to go now.”

“Let me come with you.”

“I’d like that.”

Sierra lead Echo, still naked, to the place where no one could see. It didn’t feel as scary when she had her friend with her.

“I’m glad you came,” she said.

“What do you do here?” Echo asked.

“I wait until the feeling goes away but I don’t know if it will go away with you here. I get it when I look at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. Not really. Not like a cut or a pulled muscle. It tingles.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere. Here.” Sierra rested her hand between her legs. “I can feel my heart beat here.”

“Let me feel.” Echo reached out, cupping Sierra’s pelvic mound in her hand. “It’s warm,” she said. Sierra’s legs buckled. “What’s wrong?”

“When you touched me there it made me feel light headed.”

“Lie down, there. Let me help you.” Echo always wanted to help. Echo was nice.

“Do it again, touch me there.”

“What if it makes you pass out?”

“I want to. Do it again. Please.”

Echo did, this time she stroked gently, like she was massaging Sierra there. It took her breath away.

“What are you doing?” Sierra whispered curiously, pressing herself against Echo’s hand.

“I don’t know,” Echo said, “but it feels right. This feels like something I know how to do.”

“Do it then. I want to you to…”

Echo’s face was close to her own. She was breathing Echo’s breath. She leaned even closer, licked Echo’s lips. They parted under her tongue. It felt right. Echo had rolled down her yoga pants, touching her again but now her hand was directly against the private place. Sierra moaned, closed her eyes. It was right. What Echo was doing. Her hips moved on their own, rising and falling in rhythm to Echo’s hand. A memory in the body, a memory she couldn’t remember but this was right. This was what she was craving, yearning for… no, only part of it, a piece of what she wanted, of who she wanted to be, a piece of who she really was when she had a name and a will of her own.