© Copyright 2010 - SFT - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; doll; discovery; mast; climax; cons; X
This story is covered by the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ )
A good friend of mine was leaving the country, for reasons she never wanted to get in to. She said she would be gone for a year, and that during the interim I should check up on her apartment, and make sure everything was okay there.
Apparently she just wanted to disappear. She never went into why. I respected her need for privacy, and didn't question it.
About a week after she left, I decided to go and check the place out. I had agreed with her previously on a weekly schedule. I would drop by every Saturday afternoon, check the place out, retrieve the mail, and then take my leave.
The place was almost completely empty. I had been in her apartment before, seen her furnishings and possessions, but most of them were gone. I assumed she had simply taken them with her, as a year is a long time to be away.
The only thing that caught my eye, other than the lack of objects that I had expected, was the figure sitting quietly in the corner.
It was a life sized doll, dressed in a long white coat, and wearing a red dress. A pair of white boots and a white hat sat next to her, and were obviously meant to be hers.
My friend had always been a collector of oddities, but I had never seen this one before. It seemed a little peculiar, even for her.
On her back was attached a simple post-it note.
It read, "Take care of me."
I didn't examine her again for another week.
That visit, I noticed that dust had started to collect on what my friend had left behind, so I decided to do a bit of cleaning before it snowballed into an impossible job.
Upon coming to the doll, something peculiar caught my eye.
She wasn't dusty at all.
I had expected some dirt to collect on her, as she shouldn't have moved in all that time, but she seemed as clean as the day I first saw her.
At first, I ignored this, and went back to cleaning, but the longer I cleaned, the more the thought gnawed at my mind. Why wouldn't she be dusty? Did someone else have access to this apartment? My friend never told me about anything like that.
Finally the curiousity overtook me, and I took a closer look at the doll.
I put my hands on her shoulders, and the first thing I noticed was how soft she was. She wasn't made of hard plastic, like a mannequin or a fixed pose figure, but instead she was made of some sort of pliable material that gave resistance with pressure.
She was also fully articulated. I was careful when moving her about, but she clearly had her own internal skeleton and was restricted to human-like poses.
She didn't seem to have any ability to move on her own, though, at least from an initial examination. There were no battery hatches, or plugs, or indeed any openings of any kind on her.
So I had shrugged it off, turned around, and got back to cleaning.
Then, a few moments later, I felt a gentle poke behind me.
I was somewhat surprised. No-one was supposed to be in that apartment. I figured, before turning around, that maybe I had left the front door open and someone had wandered in, wondering about where my friend had gone.
Upon actually turning around, I was much more surprised than that.
The doll was standing there, with a stick in her outstretched right hand, prodding me with it.
I immediately fell to the floor, in stunned surprise.
She was looking right at me, with those anime doll eyes.
I focused straight back at her, and tried to collect my thoughts.
This is a dream, right? Dolls don't move on their own. This one seems to be threatening me with a stick, though. That pretty much proves she can move on her own.
She seemed to realize that she was in a threatening position now, and immediately withdrew the stick. She then offered me a hand, to help me up.
Without thinking, I took it, and was quickly up on my feet again.
She looked down and around demurely, then looked back up at me, seemly expectantly.
"Um, er, uh." I stammered out.
She seemed somewhat amused at my confusion.
"Who are you?" I finally managed.
She didn't say a word. Instead, she returned to the spot she had been previously resting, then pointed to it, knelt down back into her original position, pointed at herself again, then got back up, seemingly looking for a new command.
"I'm.... not really sure what you're trying to say." I said, my confusion multiplying.
She fished around behind her back, and retrieved the post-it that I had noticed on the first day. She then walked up to me, took my hands, and placed it there, then looked up at me again.
It was pretty clear she didn't talk, even if she could. I guess dolls aren't supposed to talk.
"So, I, um, take care of you?" I asked.
Her face seemed to light up, despite being made of hard plastic. Through body language she was clearly expressing her approval of the idea, though.
The gears in my head finally started turning again. This must be a girl in a costume, I reasoned. My friend never told me about her, so most likely she doesn't know about her, either. In any case, she probably wouldn't want her here.
So, acting upon that idea, I grabbed her arm, and started pulling her out.
She seemed content in following me, until we got to the door, when she suddenly started to resist.
"Look," I said, "whoever you are, you clearly don't belong here. And I'm supposed to take care of this place. I fully expect the owner would want you out, so you're going out."
And I pulled. She pulled back. I managed to open the door with my other hand, and then, in a quick motion, I pushed her in, to fake her out, then spun around her and pushed her out the door.
As soon as she was out in the hallway, she turned and looked straight at me, as if in shock, and then collapsed to the ground, completely lifeless.
She wasn't moving.
I waited for a moment, waiting for her to get her bearings.
I became concerned, and went over to her, checking for signs of life.
She had none, or at least none that were discernable. She was a doll, lifeless and motionless as you'd expect. She might've been breathing, but her clothing made it too hard to tell.
She was obviously in distress though.
Slowly, carefully, I lifted her up in my arms, and carried her back into the apartment. I couldn't just leave her there.
Bringing her back in didn't seem to immediately bring life back to her, though. She remained motionless, and hung loosely from my arms.
I left her on one of the few chairs that my friend had left in the apartment, turned around, and thought about the situation.
Maybe I should call a hospital, or the looney bin, or someone that was adequately prepared to handle someone like this. No, no, that wouldn't work. She was too good at pretending to be a doll. I'd probably end up looking like the crazy one. I'd have to handle this myself.
I turned around, to check on her, only to notice that she had moved.
She was sitting quietly, in the place where I had first found her, hugging her legs, and shuddering slightly, as if she had been wounded.
I had hurt her.
I approached her, and tried to calm her slightly by offering my hand.
She shied away.
"Please," I said, kneeling down beside her, "I'm sorry I tried to throw you out. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
She continued to silently hug herself for a while, then slowly retrieved a post it from the ground and handed it to me. It was the same post it I had found on her, the one I had carelessly dropped when trying to force her from the apartment.
"Take care of me," it still read.
"What can I do?" I asked. "I don't know how to take care of you."
She relaxed her legs, letting them extend loosely to the floor, then took her left hand and slowly touched the side of my face.
The doll skin on her fingers felt soft and smooth as she slowly caressed my cheek, continuing down and ending at my chin. She then moved her left hand behind my head, moving her right hand there as well to meet it, then pulled me closer to her, aiming her hard, plastic lips for my soft, human ones.
Her aim was true, and I felt the pattern of her mouth press against mine, moving slightly, teasing with its fixed edges and curves. It felt completely unlike a real kiss, but instead made itself its own unique experience.
We remained like this for a few moments, then she carefully pulled back, and tossed away her long white coat and her hat.
She wouldn't be needing them.
She then pulled herself closer to me, pressing every inch of her body against mine. Through her soft, thick red dress I could feel the suggestion of curves, two soft orbs which teased and tantalized me with their constantly moving presences.
She pressed her hips up against mine, and the end of her dress slowly pressed along with it, teasing me with its position. I wasn't quite sure how long her dress was, if it was long enough to preserve modesty or short enough to be illegal, but the feeling of it pressing against me constantly straddled the distance between them. I could not be sure where the dress ended and where her body began, especially since both were made of a smooth, soft cloth that hid their differences.
Through her middle I could feel the taut, yet soft stretch of her middle, which caressed my own, shifting slowly left and right, in a smooth rhythm which brought out her supple, sweet curves.
I found my arms rubbing against her back, feeling only the cloth of her dress and the shape of her body. They traced the perfect slope of her back, and quickly found the end of her dress, and quickly ran underneath, to the bottom that they found there.
She had no panties.
Her rear was firm and yet giving, perfect in shape and size. I rubbed my fingers up and down them, feeling every square inch. It was perfectly smooth, completely unlike a human's, and seemingly perfectly round as well.
I ran my fingers up and down the center, when I noticed something odd.
Something wasn't there that should have been.
I poked, softly at first, but increasing in strength slightly when I couldn't find it.
She reacted by pulling at me harder, increasing the intensity of the feelings she imprinted upon my chest, stomach, and hips. But that didn't alleviate my confusion.
If this had been a normal costume, a pair of leggings for example, I would've been able to feel something through it. Some bit of detail that would prove that she was human. But there was nothing there.
There was no hole. The center of her rear was completely smooth.
I thought for a bit, then moved my hands to the front of her dress, and pulled up.
The front matched the back. She was smooth. Featureless. I ran my fingers up and down her crotch and found the same nothing that I found in the back.
She had nothing that could be made love to.
I sighed slightly, and looked down, in resignation. What could I do?
I looked into the large, anime eyes that she possessed. She saw my concern, and seemingly decided to show me how much it didn't matter.
Her hands quickly moved to my pants, fishing around for the belt. She unhooked it quickly, then unzipped me, and dug around, searching for the only thing she seemed to want at this point.
Thankfully, my discouragement was not complete, for I was still active when she found me.
Then, she did something peculiar.
First, she sat me down, so my legs were straight out, and I was straight up.
She then turned around, then pressed her ample rear against my erection, pressing in either side with her hands. I felt the smoothness of her missing location, and was engulfed by the press.
She then rubbed me vigorously, rhythmically moving herself and her buttocks up and down, each being pressed with her hands and moving in slightly different directions.
It was incredible. She was perfectly smooth, inhumanly so, and yet had a softness with just enough resistance that couldn't be anything except the flesh of a human being. The difference in direction made it feel like I was making love to a woman who was in three pieces, each going not only vertically, but sometimes horizontally as well. Her smoothness extended all around it, and it was quite unreal how frictionless this was.
I could not hold back from this onslaught, and after a time I finally exploded.
With that, she stood, then silently recovered her coat and hat, and returned to her original position, sitting on her legs, and looking down slightly.
What happened? I cleaned myself off a bit, fighting the fatigue, and managed to get myself up and approached her.
She was completely still. Lifeless, motionless. The way I had found her two weeks ago. As if nothing had happened.
I tried to shake her slightly, to get a rise out of her. But nothing happened. She remained still, and resolute in her dollness.
I couldn't just let this go, though. She had made love to me. Sure, it was a roundabout kind of love, but it was still love. She couldn't just deny all of this.
I wasn't going crazy. I knew this happened.
I reached over, under the back of her dress, and felt around. It was damp, and somewhat sticky. Proof that something happened here.
But in her stillness, she continued to deny it.
There had to be proof, somewhere, in this apartment.
I didn't know what I was looking for, or why I was looking for it, but there had to be something.
But there wasn't. My friend had taken everything of note, everything of value. The place was deserted. Only loose, inconvenient furniture was left.
I stopped for a moment. I thought about what I was doing. I was trying to convince myself that this doll was alive. That what happened just now really happened.
But, did I really have any proof? Maybe it was all the dust inhalation, making me dizzy, making me imagine things.
My imagination was never this good, though.
So I returned to her. She was my only proof. The only way I could prove this happened was through her.
I went back to her, and I must have lost it. I couldn't hold my paranoia back.
I ended up doing something violent.
I grabbed her face, and ripped it off.
Her head came with it.
But with that, so did her stuffing.
She was filled with what appeared to be some sort of cotton or down, a white fluffy material.
I couldn't believe it. I searched through her. There was no one inside, just more white fluff.
She was empty.
I couldn't believe it.
A door slammed.
It didn't seem important, until I examined the doll more closely.
Aside from all the fluff, she was missing one key detail. A detail I had confirmed before.
Her back was dry.