© Copyright 2010 - SFT - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; doll; costume; tease; play; mast; 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/ )
I took her plastic face, carefully positioned it, and locked it into position with a soft click.
She was finished.
I'd seen her before, many times, but all those times were only in dreams and imaginings.
But now, after months of preparation, expenses, and work, she stood before me.
My perfect, cute, little doll.
It took a lot of time and preparation to get to this point. Her skin, her face, her clothes, all of these things had to be shipped from overseas. I took extra care to make sure they came in ordinary looking boxes with generic sounding company names listed on the invoices, so no-one would suspect what I was creating.
It wasn't the typical hobby of a normal person cerating your own doll, so it was best to keep it under wraps.
After that, I spent an unbelievable amount of time assembling, sewing, and painting the individual parts and clothes for her. Though in retrospect, the ordering of the parts and assembly were simple compared to obtaining what was inside her.
I carefully looked her over, inspecting every nook and cranny of my brand new female doll.
She didn't mind. She was a doll, after all, and dolls aren't supposed to mind.
She measured around five foot four when complete, and thus was the perfect size for me. She wore a simple, slightly pinkish schoolgirl type outfit with a nicely short red skirt. Her face was manufactured at a special Japanese company that specialized in molding anime doll faces, but I had opted to do the painting myself to save money and give her my own little touch. I was never into prepackaged figures, and to recreate the doll of my dreams I had to customize everything.
I took my hands and ran them around her face. The seam connecting the two pieces of her head was nearly invisible, and the locking mechanism kept it in position. Unless you knew the trick to removing it, it would remain fixed there unless you actually broke it.
Her hair was a real human hair wig, ordered online from an internet costume shop. It had a brownish-red tone, and I had it done up in a tail on one side.
She looked straight through me as I continued to examine her.
I examined the visible parts of her skin. This was made of a skintone lycra-like material, chosen because it had a particular sheen that was quite like the skin of ordinary, small plastic dolls, and even a bit like the skin of anime characters that you could see on TV. It was just a bit too reflective, unmistakable for human skin. I was very careful with the stitching here, to hide any signs of seams or loose threads. To the casual eye, it looked as if it had been made from a solid piece of cloth, with no obvious way to remove it.
She was perfect in appearance. And even more than that, she had a special feature that made her even better than a mail order love doll.
I took her right hand in mine, raised it to about chest level, and squeezed it gently.
She squeezed back.
Squeezing her right hand was the signal for her to come to life.
And she did. Slowly, beautifully, life came into her body. She gently motioned her body toward me, as if a switch within her had flipped. And then, her head slowly turned, and she looked straight into my eyes, locking for just a moment.
Then she tilted her head slightly to the left, as if she were smiling, and saying hello.
Of course, she didn't talk. Dolls don't talk.
Dolls don't ordinarily move either, but the one in my dreams did, so she did as well.
Now that she was in motion, it was far easier to do the last few checks upon her body that I wished to do.
As she moved and posed for me, I lifted up her clothes and examined her joints and surrounding areas. At every joint, when she bent and flexed, her skin remained taut and smooth. Good. No wrinkling. Her skin was a perfect fit.
I felt it was only fair that she should be able to see herself as well, so I walked over to a corner, retrieved a large, body sized mirror, and showed it to her.
Upon looking into it, she seemed to explode with joy. She bounced around, from position to position, doing cute little gestures with her hands, and occasionally putting her hand over her mouth and leaning slightly, as if silently laughing.
After she had gotten her fill and settled down slightly, I decided to go on to the next step.
I took her left hand in mine, raised it to about chest level, and squeezed it gently.
She immediately went limp, and collapsed into my arms. She was a normal, everyday doll now.
Having her limp made it easier to examine her special features.
I sat her down, resting her back and head against the wall, and rolled up her shirt.
I was particularly proud of these two pieces of work.
They hung out slightly, like human breasts did, but remained round and smooth, as if being held by an invisible bra. They had no nipples, as nipples were a needless detail for a doll. I cupped my hands around them, and played with them a bit. They were exceedingly soft, but had enough springiness to retain shape. And their smoothness was intoxicating. Completely unlike a real woman's. I remember spending a long time getting the skin to fit just right here. But it was all worth it. They completely covered the dolls natural breasts.
She remained dollish and limp, and didn't react at all to me toying with her playthings.
I rolled the shirt down, and continuing to examine her features, I flipped up her skirt.
She was wearing a cute pair of white panties, which I had specially ordered from some japanese shop.
I pulled these down, and examined between her legs.
As expected, she was completely smooth. Just like a doll. No details, just a delicate smoothness. I rubbed it slightly, sometimes poking around with my fingers looking for any oddities that might come out with use. There were none. I ran my hand down her and, pulling her up slightly with my other hand, went around the bend. She was smooth all the way though. From the center of her waist in the front to the center of her back, she was smooth. There was a bit of resistance along her buttocks, but that was just because of how they narrowed the path there.
She was perfect, and begging to be used the way that she wanted.
But I wanted the experience from start to finish.
So I redressed her, took her right hand, and squeezed it.
She came to life once more, looked at me, and pleasantly tilted her head again.
"Okay," I said, "Let's try you out."
Her smile seemed to brighten, even though it was fixed upon her face.
We both stood, and she carefully put her arms around me, joining them around my back, just below my neck.
I took my own arms and wrapped them around her middle, enjoying the slight thinness between her chest and her rear.
She pulled me closer, and I complied, bending down slightly to match her eye level. Then she pulled even closer, and met my lips with hers. I spent a long time trying to design a fixed smile that would be pleasurable when pressed against my lips, and the feeling I had then was the best confirmation I could receive.
She then pulled even closer, pressing her chest against mine. Through her outfit, I could feel the nicely sized, perfect breasts she had been given. She pressed her body against mine, and I felt every detail of it. Her slim, shapely legs wrapped around my own, and slowly motioned up and down against me. Her hips pressed against my crotch, and rubbed from side to side, clearly revealing everything about her to me purely through touch. Her hands released their grip from each other behind me, and began stroking up and down along my back.
It was an exquisite feeling. But it became clear that all these clothes were getting in the way.
She pulled back, and slowly moved her right hand to my pants, opening them up but not actually removing them.
I wondered what she had in mind. I hadn't actually planned this far. I thought I'd just get to this point and let shit happen.
Using both her hands, she dug around in my pants, shifting cloth here and there, until she found me.
I stood outside my office, waiting to deliver a package.
"What are you planning?" I asked.
She lifted her head to look me in the eyes, and then tilted her head, and gave a cute little shrug.
Then she stood back, and pulled down her skirt and panties. She then kicked them off, aiming somewhere to the left and behind me.
Putting her arms on my shoulders, she gently pushed down, so I knew to crouch down slightly.
She moved my knees slightly out, so she would have clearance. Then she impaled herself upon me.
This was a bit of an awkward position, but I made the best of it.
She had carefully judged her height, brought me down to just the right position, and then rammed herself against me, so I impaled her just under her smooth, featureless crotch, and with just enough space between her own legs to make a hole. In the absence of a natural hole, she had constructed one.
She then squeezed with her legs, moving them back and forth, and pulled and pushed upon me. The doll skin rubbing against me felt soft and gentle, yet her motions and position caused a great deal of pressure upon me.
I felt every motion of her body upon me.
She looked up, and tensed, her constant motion gently waving her outfit and her hair back and forth, a contrast to her tense, lithe body. She was truly enjoying the moment.
I was also very much enjoying this experience, but I felt bad for letting her do all the work.
So I decided to give her a break.
I grabbed her left hand.
On cue, she became limp, and fell into my arms.
I carefully sat her down, sitting down just beside her, then coiled her left hand with my right into a grip, and wrapped it around my exposure.
I felt the soft smoothness of her doll hand squeezing around me, and gently moved it back and forth along me, enjoying every moment of it. As long as it was her left hand receiving pressure, she would remain a lifeless doll.
For as long as she could stand it, anyway.
I then took my left hand and placed it upon her smoothness, massaging it up and down, left and right, poking and prodding.
I knew she could feel this. And I wondered how long she could take this sensation before she broke.
In the end, I lost. She won.
She never broke character, not even once.
But I couldn't hold it in. I exploded.
The game was that I could make her break character before that happened. But, I didn't.
I reached over to her head, and clicked a small button inside the ear. This unhooked the two parts of the head, releasing the most important part of my doll, the woman inside.
"Oh, you were so close!" she teased.
"Yeah, yeah. I guess this means you won't be my doll for the whole weekend, then."
"I never said I wouldn't," she responded with a smile. "This just means you have to do a couple things for me."