Dollhouse Fic: "Innocent Mix-Up" (Topher/Dominic, R)
It's been awhile since anyone's added anything new to the Dollhouse kink meme, so with the mod's permission I'm reposting my submissions in my journal. (So prepare for another mini-spam, sorry.)
Title: Innocent Mix-Up
Pairing: Topher/ImprintedInSierra!Dominic
Rating: light R for language, violence, suggestions of bondage, implied oral
Spoilers: 1x11, "Briar Rose"
Length: 748 words
Summary: Dollhouse kink meme, prompt: "Topher/Dominic - Topher mixes up some imprints, so that he's suddenly confronted with Dominic (at least his personality) who threatens Topher to get him his body back but gets distracted in the process"
There was something so boring about these late-night rush jobs. No chance to do the part he really liked, lovingly crafting a new and perfect imprint - just pull out an old file, pop it in and send the result on its merry way. So very automated; like working on some kind of “dream date” assembly line.
Still - what the client wanted, the client got, right?
Topher held back a sigh. “Comfortable, Sierra?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Her timid politeness seemed very out of place with her current ensemble: all black leather, with stiletto boots going all the way up her thighs and a bustier that most definitely lifted and separated. Straps in places Topher didn’t even know they put straps.
Well, personality and appearance would mesh, in a minute.
“Just sit back and relax.” Topher yawned, eyes closing as he reached for the Mistress Naughty imprint where it sat on his desk with a few others. “And, here we go.”
He only half paid attention to the rest of the process: flashing light as the imprint went to work, “Sierra” opening her eyes and looking around, disoriented.
“There.” Topher turned away for a second. “Ready to-”
He cut off mid-sentence, however, as her gaze focused on him, and then with a murderous look she leapt out of the chair, pinning him against the wall by the throat.
Topher choked, frantically, eyes bugging as he tried to figure out what’d went wrong: the persona was a dominatrix, sure, but she wasn’t supposed to be psychotic.
“Hello again,” the usually placid Active hissed. “Did you honestly think you could bring me back without restraints, after drugging me last time, and expect me to cooperate? Are you really that clueless?”
“Wha-” Restraints? Drugs? That didn’t make any- “…Dominic?”
“Who the hell were you expecting?”
“Uh, not you, that’s for sure,” Topher squeaked. “Evidently, there’s been a bit of a mix-up.”
He’d put Dominic’s imprint away, hadn’t he? Not left it on his desk, where it could get confused with another: no way he’d possibly do something so stupid - right?
Oh, shit.
“You and I are gonna have a little talk,” Dominic continued. His grip tightened and Topher’s eyes closed in pain at the pressure on his windpipe. “What do I have to do to get you to put me back in my body?”
He let up just enough to let Topher speak, and he gasped, “It’s not that simple! I don’t have clearance-”
“Wrong answer.”
The interrogation was interrupted, though, as Dominic made a fist and either felt or possibly heard the crinkle of leather. He looked down at “himself”.
At another time, the resulting expression would’ve been hilarious.
“What the fuck am I wearing?”
“See,” Topher grinned weakly: “Mix-up. Sorry about the confusion, but, uh-”
He had difficulty focusing as, despite himself, his gaze was drawn towards Sierra’s breasts. The wardrobe department really deserved a bonus.
Dominic realized where Topher was looking. He went through several rapid facial changes: revulsion, fury, and then something oddly calculating.
“Turns you on,” he said, completely flat, “doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah…I m-mean, no! Well. I mean…yeah, but-”
His voice died as Dominic leaned in, breath ghosting across Topher’s face.
“I asked you a question,” he said in a completely different tone of voice. “What’ll it take to get my body back?”
“Wh…whoa.” Topher’s eyes bulged as he felt a hand on his fly. “Okay…this is completely unexpected.”
“Tell me, Topher. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Topher stared, and then quickly averted his eyes as Sierra’s body slowly sank down until it was kneeling in front of him on the floor.
“Dominic? Uh, Dom? This…doesn’t really seem like-”
Was it possible some of Mistress Naughty had gotten in there after all? That the imprints had gotten crossed? He didn’t see how, but-
Then again: NSA spy. Maybe the whole “sleeping with the enemy” thing wasn’t just part of the James Bond fantasy. Besides the obvious, what other tricks might’ve Dominic had to pull to get his job done?
“This doesn’t really seem like you,” Topher finally managed, eyes on the ceiling and trying to imagine cold showers. “Maybe we should, uh, just take a minute here; really think about what…oh god.”
Linear thought went out the window as his pants were unzipped and he felt leather-gloved hands grasp his hips in a very particular way.
“Whatever it takes,” Dominic repeated - and all Topher could do was close his eyes and mutter, “Uh huh.”
Title: Innocent Mix-Up
Pairing: Topher/ImprintedInSierra!Dominic
Rating: light R for language, violence, suggestions of bondage, implied oral
Spoilers: 1x11, "Briar Rose"
Length: 748 words
Summary: Dollhouse kink meme, prompt: "Topher/Dominic - Topher mixes up some imprints, so that he's suddenly confronted with Dominic (at least his personality) who threatens Topher to get him his body back but gets distracted in the process"
There was something so boring about these late-night rush jobs. No chance to do the part he really liked, lovingly crafting a new and perfect imprint - just pull out an old file, pop it in and send the result on its merry way. So very automated; like working on some kind of “dream date” assembly line.
Still - what the client wanted, the client got, right?
Topher held back a sigh. “Comfortable, Sierra?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Her timid politeness seemed very out of place with her current ensemble: all black leather, with stiletto boots going all the way up her thighs and a bustier that most definitely lifted and separated. Straps in places Topher didn’t even know they put straps.
Well, personality and appearance would mesh, in a minute.
“Just sit back and relax.” Topher yawned, eyes closing as he reached for the Mistress Naughty imprint where it sat on his desk with a few others. “And, here we go.”
He only half paid attention to the rest of the process: flashing light as the imprint went to work, “Sierra” opening her eyes and looking around, disoriented.
“There.” Topher turned away for a second. “Ready to-”
He cut off mid-sentence, however, as her gaze focused on him, and then with a murderous look she leapt out of the chair, pinning him against the wall by the throat.
Topher choked, frantically, eyes bugging as he tried to figure out what’d went wrong: the persona was a dominatrix, sure, but she wasn’t supposed to be psychotic.
“Hello again,” the usually placid Active hissed. “Did you honestly think you could bring me back without restraints, after drugging me last time, and expect me to cooperate? Are you really that clueless?”
“Wha-” Restraints? Drugs? That didn’t make any- “…Dominic?”
“Who the hell were you expecting?”
“Uh, not you, that’s for sure,” Topher squeaked. “Evidently, there’s been a bit of a mix-up.”
He’d put Dominic’s imprint away, hadn’t he? Not left it on his desk, where it could get confused with another: no way he’d possibly do something so stupid - right?
Oh, shit.
“You and I are gonna have a little talk,” Dominic continued. His grip tightened and Topher’s eyes closed in pain at the pressure on his windpipe. “What do I have to do to get you to put me back in my body?”
He let up just enough to let Topher speak, and he gasped, “It’s not that simple! I don’t have clearance-”
“Wrong answer.”
The interrogation was interrupted, though, as Dominic made a fist and either felt or possibly heard the crinkle of leather. He looked down at “himself”.
At another time, the resulting expression would’ve been hilarious.
“What the fuck am I wearing?”
“See,” Topher grinned weakly: “Mix-up. Sorry about the confusion, but, uh-”
He had difficulty focusing as, despite himself, his gaze was drawn towards Sierra’s breasts. The wardrobe department really deserved a bonus.
Dominic realized where Topher was looking. He went through several rapid facial changes: revulsion, fury, and then something oddly calculating.
“Turns you on,” he said, completely flat, “doesn’t it?”
“Oh, yeah…I m-mean, no! Well. I mean…yeah, but-”
His voice died as Dominic leaned in, breath ghosting across Topher’s face.
“I asked you a question,” he said in a completely different tone of voice. “What’ll it take to get my body back?”
“Wh…whoa.” Topher’s eyes bulged as he felt a hand on his fly. “Okay…this is completely unexpected.”
“Tell me, Topher. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
Topher stared, and then quickly averted his eyes as Sierra’s body slowly sank down until it was kneeling in front of him on the floor.
“Dominic? Uh, Dom? This…doesn’t really seem like-”
Was it possible some of Mistress Naughty had gotten in there after all? That the imprints had gotten crossed? He didn’t see how, but-
Then again: NSA spy. Maybe the whole “sleeping with the enemy” thing wasn’t just part of the James Bond fantasy. Besides the obvious, what other tricks might’ve Dominic had to pull to get his job done?
“This doesn’t really seem like you,” Topher finally managed, eyes on the ceiling and trying to imagine cold showers. “Maybe we should, uh, just take a minute here; really think about what…oh god.”
Linear thought went out the window as his pants were unzipped and he felt leather-gloved hands grasp his hips in a very particular way.
“Whatever it takes,” Dominic repeated - and all Topher could do was close his eyes and mutter, “Uh huh.”