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"A Fuck Doll will increase the intensity of the pleasure of its user and prolong for as long as possible the moment until the user comes and then but only then it too will come. The intensity of its climax will mirror that of its user"
The monologue continues for an uncountable time. As the doctor talks the Fuck Doll transforms itself. It sits on the very edge of the couch. It arches its spine, its tits thrust forward ready to be sucked, pinched, twisted, to be used in any way. Its neck straightens, the head tilts back, its tongue slowly moistens the lips around its toothless gums as its mouth opens into a perfect O, ready to be filled. Its legs spread wide, wider, at right angles to the body, so wide that they press against the edge of the couch, whilst it thrusts its cunt forward showing the glistening lips and the hole ready to be fucked. Its arms lie unmoving, palms upwards ready to hold and massage any prick.
Dr Carter stops talking and stares at the Doll. "It may CUM!" He closely observes as in total silence the eyes dilate, the cheeks redden slightly and breath quickens. Its tits tighten, the cunt clenches and its lips flutter as a trickle of cum runs down onto the couch. When this ceases the Fuck Doll rises in one fluid movement. Standing with straight legs wide apart it bends its torso, revealing the brown rose of its arsehole and the red tulip of its cunt as it licks clean the couch. It then turns and resumes its immovable pose on the couch.
Dr Carter smiles. "The most receptive yet," he says under his breath as he quietly leaves the room.
The Fuck Doll remains motionless, its whole body still. It does not think. It is not conscious of time passing. It is completely filled by the knowledge that at sometime it will be used. It will give pleasure and then it will cum and it will cum again and again and again.
It is complete.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousabout 14 years agoI really enjoyed the first couple of 'pages' of this-- it was comical and sort of breezy, this story of a reclusive brainy young woman turned into an out-of-control nympho. In its broad-stroke way, the story felt engaging and light-hearted, and there were several clever bits of business, like her musing on the 'practicality' of the PVC miniskirt or her exchange with the salesgirl.
But then we get into the whole Berenice-like oral thing and the tone becomes Sadean. There are mind-control stories where people are left with no interests in life but sex that still manage to maintain, on the level of the fantasy, a sort of 'benign' tone.
But in this, the heroine was made an individual at first, a girl with real intellectual interests (which the author clearly knows something about), so it felt harsh to reduce her to a mindless, toothless slave.
I'd love to see the author return to more-or-less the opening premise, but develop it in a more gentle sort of way. There's real talent here, but I can't disguise I feel sorry for Natalie and want her to get her life and her teeth back!
