Little Space Triggers Novels & Stories

The more intriguing ones looked like a hook, and Cassie wondered what people did with it. Beside the largest vibrator was a set of three yellow vibrators and probably the smallest of its kind. Each vibrator came with individual controls, and the sizes were only about an inch bigger than the last, with the smallest being two inches. They were known as bullet vibrators, and unlike the wand, the cord could not be detached from these.

No room. A minute passed. Maybe five. The bed was too damn small. His shoulder kept bumping my arm when he breathed. Deep, slow breaths, the kind that come from a guy who's used to crashing hard after practice. I could feel the heat rolling off him like a furnace. My back was to his side now, because turning away was the only way to pretend there was space.

“Reaching how?” “I don’t have the mechanism yet. I have the symptoms.” He turned the phone toward me, showing numbers that meant nothing to me — heart rate, temperature, something labeled response latency that had dropped by half in the space of one encounter. “The pattern says proximity to you is no longer neutral for him. It’s becoming a trigger. And triggers escalate.” “Escalate into what?” Neil didn’t answer that one either. The door opened again. Nathan came out slower than he’d gone in, color back in his face but something still simmering underneath it that hadn’t fully burned off. He wouldn’t look at me directly, his eyes catching on the wall just past my shoulder instead.

he says with nothing but sincerity in his voice. “I know…thank you for trying and sharing your secret with me. I’ll be more tolerant of your triggers from now on, now that I know their source,” I say, drawing my arms from around his neck. “But now…you need to tell me what those triggers are because I’m touching you right now and nothing is happening.” Kissing my forehead, he chuckles. “It’s easy with you, Mia, you don’t set off my triggers as much as others do. It’s just when you touch my chest, or anywhere on my abdomen…it seems to set it off more when I’m bare-chested.”

But it was Noah, and so I had typed something — something deliberately irritating about stalking, because old habits — and then put the phone down and gone back to sleep. My body was wrong in a way I couldn’t fully account for. I had always been healthy — genuinely, consistently healthy, the kind of person who didn’t get sick, who pushed through things and came out the other side without incident. And yet for the past week everything had become a trigger. The rain. The cold floor of the cafeteria. The jacket I’d given away. I was paying for all of it now in increments. I slept. When I woke up, I was warm.

Elliot didn’t answer right away. He reached up instead, dragging a loose piece of metal from the floor and using it to tap lightly against the opening. A second later— Something inside moved. Fast. Elliot dropped the metal instantly, stepping back. “…Okay. Definitely a trigger.” Timothy’s voice lowered slightly. “And?” Elliot’s eyes lit with something sharper now. “It reacts to proximity,” he said. “Not just presence—interaction.” “Meaning we have to engage it.” “Yeah.” Elliot tilted his head slightly, thinking.

But wherever I'm being kept is quite small - I can't even stretch my legs out all the way. You have to calm down, I tell myself. Calm down, try to breathe, and be smart about this. For your baby. Only when I force myself to be still do I feel the vibrations all around me. Somewhere not so far away - but muffled, like it's through a couple of walls - I hear music playing. And somewhere beyond that, so faint that for a moment I wonder if I've imagined it, I hear a car horn. I'm in his trunk. It's the only thing that makes sense. This cramped space can't be more than four feet wide, and that music must be coming from the radio. This is probably his sedan.

he replied calmly. His revelation piqued my interest even more. Here was a glimpse into his life, a peek through a tiny window. I wanted to know more, to understand why he had turned away from something that once mattered to him. But before I could delve deeper, a sudden, unmistakable vibration coursed through me. The small toy inside me had been activated, freezing me in my place.

At this point, the peace of mind may be worth the risk. There are only fifteen minutes left on Tru’s alarm before she wakes. Deciding that’s enough time for us to have some fun, I lightly trace my fingers over her neck down to her breasts after turning off the alarm. The pad of my thumb brushes her nipples, and they immediately harden. A smile spreads across my face at how responsive Tru is.

“I—I kind of have this thing with small spaces. I don’t like them.” His stare turned flat. “You don’t like them?” He asked slowly, enunciating every word. I sucked in a sharp breath, frustrated that he was so dense and unpracticed with people that he needed me to spell it out for him. “I freak out, okay?!” I hissed quietly, my heart skipping a beat when the doors slid open with an irritating ‘ding.’ One glance at the tiny box inside and I was shaking my head. My foot lifted, ready to back away and head right out the front doors. “Nope, no way. Not doing it. Can’t your father just do a video call?”