FormeX

"So true. But effort matters, too, right? I mean, it looks like your back is probably working hard every day."

I smiled as they laughed, but my thoughts were on how stumbling into Crystal's prototypes had launched me on this weird, uncomfortable, but also sort of wonderful trajectory. When it was quiet enough to answer, I said, "I wear FormeX bodycon underneath, which helps a lot in all sorts of ways. Lots of people think I've just had like a million dollars worth of work done, but it's FormeX more than anything else."

"I'm going to guess FormeX is a sponsor?" Helen asked, making it sound like a joke, but I think maybe she didn't like me trying to use her show to flog products.

"Oh! No, but that would be cool," I said, flirting with the camera a little to show how receptive I was. "I actually entered one of their competition things but then some things happened and it didn't work out. But I still love their stuff. Wouldn't be here without it."

"I'm sure they're jumping for joy over that endorsement. Do you feel like there's a lot of fakery in the business, with influencers using photoshop to pretend like results are possible that really aren't?"

"Oh yeah. I used to try to pretend that I was, like, super rich and sophisticated. But, uh, I guess it's kind of obvious that I'm not?"

"Getting there now, aren't you?"

"Maybe?" I said, looking at Kelsie, who had arranged this thing. "Kelsie actually does all the work because she's pretty sophisticated, so I hope she's getting super rich."

"Aww, thanks Barbie!" Kelsie said before turning to Helen, "We're doing okay now, but you know that we've been sharing the rent on a regular apartment to make ends meet."

"I got fired from my last job, so Kelsie gave me a place to stay," I interrupted to tell Helen, "She didn't even like me yet, so that tells you how nice a person Kelsie is."

Something in Helen's face made me think she was wondering what kind of relationship Kelsie and I had, so I added. "Not 'like me' like that! Kelsie has boyfriends and everything!"

Helen laughed and the look was gone, but she followed up, "And do you have boyfriends and everything?"

"No," I said sadly, thinking about Crystal, "I didn't have the courage to ask my crush out when I had a chance. Well, I don't know if I had a chance, but now I really don't because, like, we sorta lost contact."

"Interesting! Well, maybe your crush is watching. Do you have a message for them if they are?"

"Oh! Uh, sorry I disappeared! You're super hot and I hope you won anyway."

"Cryptic! I guess only your crush would understand that message?"

A little bit of the old anxiety had come back at the idea that I'd bared myself to Crystal on television, but I calmed myself by sending my brain into the blank place. I was only there fo a moment, perhaps two seconds, but it was enough time for Kelsie to read the lack of comprehension on my face and smoothly intercede. "You might not think it but Barbie is actually a crazy private person," Kelsie told Helen, "So it's kind of a lot to be on here with like huge celebrities and a live audience and everything."

"Is that true? I hope I'm not that intimidating," Helen joked.

I giggled to think that Kelsie, in attempting to pass off my moment of brainlessness as a moment of stage fright, had actually told a deeper truth. "I think you're a nice person, and really smart in a nice way," I told Helen, who seemed a bit embarrassed by my simple earnestness.

After that, Kelsie and Helen carried most of the rest of the interview, limiting the load on me to nods, smiles, and eventually the obligatory dancing with the hostess. I didn't know many dances, but Kelsie and I had agreed before the interview which dance I should do. The problem was that Kelsie revealed just before the dance that she was looking for a flat in New York now that she was making real money, and I just blanked again.

It only took a moment to recall which dance I was supposed to be doing, but I knew from the laugher that I looked super awkward and a little inappropriate, and I hoped that I hadn't embarrassed Kelsie too much. But if I was this susceptible to brainpop, how was I going to live alone?

Afterwards Kelsie clarified to me that she didn't intend to leave me on my own, just to get another apartment so we could have our own place when visiting, but I knew she wanted her own life.

"I'm going to get married," I told her.

Her eyes widened. "To who?"

"I don't know. Someone who really enjoys big boobs and doesn't mind having a dumb wife. Should be pretty easy."

Kelsie looked very serious. "Barbie, be really honest with me. Am I the person you have the crush on?"

I kind of squinted at her as I tried to figure out why she thought that, but I set it aside for the moment. "No, you're really great and I'd love to go down on you sometime, but you've never met my crush."

"Oh. Uh, wait. You want to..."

"Yeah?" I asked, kind of zapping myself to keep from being too embarrassed about admitting I wanted to have sex with her. It made me feel horny and also lost as to what we were discussing.

"Who's your crush?"

"Crystal Rose."

"The founder of FormeX?"

"Who?" I said, confused. "No, she's not the founder."

"A different Crystal Rose?"

"That would be weird. Are you saying Crystal Rose founded FormeX?"

"Yes, there was a whole profile."

"Wow."

"And you didn't mention this to me this whole time! You didn't even tell me you liked girls!"

"What do you mean? I was always talking about how hot girls are."

"I just thought you were being nice," Kelsie said, now a little embarrassed and uncomfortable. I knew the feeling.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to, like, creep on you or keep asking you to let me eat you out or anything."

"I'm not worried," she insisted.

"Distracted?" I suggested.

"You seriously want to eat me out?" Kelsie asked, caught between incredulity and curiosity.

"Oh yeah. I'm pretty good. I think you'll enjoy it."

"Well, maybe we can try it when we get back," she said, and I giddily promised that she wouldn't regret it.

If I harboured concerns that our relationship might change after that, Kelsie's satisfaction with my efforts allayed them. I enjoyed plenty of opportunities to show myself to be a cunning linguist over the next few days.

But I couldn't hide from myself that I was trying to compensate for my feelings of guilt about being a drag on Kelsie. For all I knew, she wanted to get serious in her own relationships, but didn't because she thought I couldn't take care of myself.

And the truth was that I wasn't sure if I could or not. I had some conscious control over going blank when I started to get anxious, but life without anxiety was so incredibly much better I wasn't sure I could will myself to stop popping my brain. I had a ditz addiction. Or maybe that was just a story I told myself to excuse myself from putting in the effort to be a responsible adult.

I was still working on these questions a few days later when going to a lunch Kelsie had put together to celebrate the Helen appearance and the next phase of our careers as celebrities who were famous for being famous. I wasn't ordinarily inclined to like this new phase, but Kelsie enjoyed being recognised and meeting real life fans, and I enjoyed watching her enjoy it. As I sat on the train ignoring the people staring at me as usual, I was somehow feeling both excited and wary at the same time, gradually building toward a palpable buzz in my brain and body by the time I arrived.

That was how I didn't notice that none of the other girls were there until the hostess had brought me all the way to a table that Kelsie wasn't even at.

I opened my mouth to say there had to be a mistake, but then I saw who it was and I knew there was no mistake. As soon as I saw Crystal's face, my brain exploded with euphoria and a very strong desire to kiss her. Everywhere.

The hostess' surprised laugh and Crystal's raised eyebrows clued me in to the fact that I'd spoken my private desire aloud.

"Perhaps not before the amuse-bouche," Crystal suggested, motioning for me to sit.

I followed her direction and shrugged my apology at the hostess, who had recovered her nonchalant expression and told us our server would be with us momentarily.

"You didn't tell me you were the founder!" I said.

"You didn't tell me you had decided to wear the prototypes," she countered.

"Yeah, but if I'd told you you probably would have convinced me it was too dangerous and my life would have just sucked forever. But now I'm so much happier! I hope you're not too mad at me, but it's made me really happy."

"No, I'm not mad at you, Barbara," she said, studying me intently, "I am concerned, though."

"Call me Barbie. It's so much more appropriate for me now that I'm a bimbo, don't you think?"

"I'm happy to call you Barbie if it's what you prefer. Is it?"

"Yes, I'm ever so much happier as Barbie. Crystal, everything is so much better now."

The conversation paused for a moment as the waiter arrived to talk about the food and wine and all that, but I simply could not pay attention to what he was telling me, and just tried to smile so assertively he went away.

"You're so pretty," I told her as soon as I could, because I wanted her to know, and because I felt bad for stealing the body she had meant to be hers.

"Thank you. You are..."

"Yours. I mean, they're your specifications, right?"

She blushed. "I... Yes."

"You can make another one if you want, right?"

"I can, though I shouldn't."

"Why not? Now you know it's safe!"

"I'm not sure I can call it safe."

"Oh," I said, looking down at my immaculate place setting. "I'm sorry I stole what you wanted. I can't say I wouldn't do it again, given a chance, but I know I shouldn't have."

"Don't you think maybe you're being too hard on yourself?" Crystal asked me.

"Well, don't you deserve this body that you made specially for you?" I asked guiltily. "But I'm selfish enough that I want to keep it."

Crystal blushed deeper. "Oh. Um. I think there's been a misunderstanding."

"What do you mean?"

"No one was meant to wear that prototype. It was just a test of how far the fab process specs could be pushed and still work."

"Oh. So you didn't want it?" I asked, my stomach dropping. Was I just a vulgar idiot cartoon to her?

"Not... for myself."

"Then for whom?"

"No one in particular. The specs were, well, I did some renderings, and picked the most extreme proportions that I, um, enjoyed looking at."

I stared at her for a moment, running her words through my head several times, trying to figure out if I understood what she was saying.

"Am I, like, your optimised sex object?" I asked. "Is that what the max score was? The shape that you most wanted to..."

I had to stop because the waiter was back, and Crystal used the intervention to try to get her composure back.

"This is the happiest day of my life," I told her before she could say anything.

"I'm so... what?"

"This is like a dream come true."

"What?" she repeated, sounding so confused she could have been wearing the calming earrings herself.

"I didn't steal your body, and I can give it to you! I promise I'm really really good at cunnilingus, and I'm happy to do anything else you want. I'm a good cook, too."

"Wait, sorry, I'm trying to adjust some of my thoughts, here," she said, holding up her hands to slow me down.

I nodded and remained quiet, but I confess I was bouncing slightly in my excitement, which didn't help her think.

"So, you're happy that you're now... the way you are. And you want to thank me. Sexually."

"And culinarily! And any other way you let me! Kelsie set me up with you because you're my crush! The one I told Helen about on television!"

"I don't... I haven't seen... She didn't explain..."

"Oooh. That was a little naughty of her. Well, I've had a crush on you since forever and I really wanted to impress you by helping you win the competition, because I thought you were just a social media marketing person and I thought that if I did somehow that maybe we'd become friends but I knew I was never going to be as pretty as you are but ohmygod I am now! Sort of. Not all, like, tasteful hot like you are, more like nympho sex slave hot. Willing and ethical sex slavery, not creepy scary German basement shit!"

"German basement?" she asked in confusion, but I was too excited to explain.

"Sorry, I don't mean you want a sex slave, just, like, I'm the shape you would make a sex slave if... never mind, forget I said anything about sex slaves. I just mean that I might be able to fulfil some fantasies for the woman I've been fantasising about and I've never been so happy in my life."

I stopped myself to listen what she had to say, but she was just silent for a while, with slight shifts in her expression that made me think she was wrestling with herself in some way. I started to worry that, faced with the reality of her fantasies, she didn't find them so attractive after all. Or maybe she just didn't like me. That would be the ultimate rejection, if I was literally her unattainable physical ideal but it was all ruined by my personality. Or maybe it was just that I was too stupid? The effort to keep my mind from blanking was making me horny.

"I'm not that stupid. I mean, only occasionally. I can learn to be smarter, so I don't embarrass you," I offered, forcing myself to stop bouncing and look at least a little bit dignified. I didn't know it, but I completely ruined the look by biting my lip, which emphasised how enormously sexual they were.

"You won't embarrass me," she said quietly. "I've embarrassed myself, a bit."

"How?"

"By having my real desires exposed."

"Oh, I see," I said, very disappointed but having no trouble seeing her point of view. "I understand and I don't blame you. I won't be insulted if you decide we need to be discreet." By that point I had begun to worry that she would not be open even to covert liaisons, but I resolutely refused to allow my brain to skip out of the discomfort this time.

"No! That's not it. I just mean, well, I'm not quite sure what I mean. Maybe I just can't let myself enjoy some undeserved good luck."

I brightened instantly, and my unconscious excitement bounces resumed. This presented both a mental and physical challenge to the waiter's professionalism, but he overcame and managed to deliver our next course with aplomb. Whether from happiness or culinary craft, it was one of the best bisques I'd ever had, and also I wanted to shove it and the whole table to the side so I could throw myself on Crystal.

We made it through the entire meal without me giving in to any of my more outrageous impulses, but I admit that I did end up doing almost everything in my power including begging on my knees to let me taste her before she went back to work, but she was resolute, and so I had to go home and spend quality time with my Hitachi and a bedside-mounted dildo. Nevertheless, I had a fantastic time because I got to think about how she had promised to have me over that very night, and I could show her the entirety of her creation.

She texted several times to delay and delay again, so that by the time she was finally free from her board meetings or whatever, I was a bit of a wreck between anxiety and honestly a little resentment. But as soon as I saw how exhausted she looked when she opened the door for me, that all went out the window.

"Oh. My. God. You look so tired! I'm sorry! Let me give you a massage!" I suppose I sort of bullied her into it, but soon I had her naked from the waist up -- every inch flawless -- and was kneading and rolling away her tensions and and thoughts. She tried to apologise or something, but I shushed her and limited my own statements to my best ASMR murmur.

I kept going even when I knew she was asleep, both because that kept me focused on not trying to push it further than she'd indicated she was ready for and because I was deeply enjoying the luxury of touching her bare skin. She must have used her own products to get such perfect complexion, tone, and proportion, I thought, and I wondered if she was as happy about her body as I was about mine.

Eventually I calmed down enough that I could join her in sleep, and I did, taking the small liberty of pulling her arm over me in hopes that it might turn to spooning in the night.

That didn't really work out because of course I woke up a short while later with a tingling arm. I needed to push the sheets and pillows around for halfway decent support and the best I could do was to avoid crowding her off the bed.

But the sight that greeted me in the morning made up for everything. At first I thought she'd put on a strap-on, but it pulsed as I watched, and I had to conclude the proud, perfect pole in her hand was her very own penis. I almost expressed my delight aloud, but I noticed that Crystal's eyes were still closed and concluded she probably wasn't completely awake yet.

So, I did something that I definitely shouldn't have, but couldn't resist. I mean, there was some part of me that knew that she had been shy about showing me and probably wouldn't be comfortable exposing her unusual configuration now if she was fully awake, but in my defence I had also just woken up randy and wasn't thinking clearly. Also, I really, really wanted to believe that her little smile as I quietly straddled her meant she'd figured out what was happening and was just waiting for me to slide... down... her shaft.

Obviously this was far from the first dong I'd ever bounced on, but something about knowing it was attached to Crystal made it feel incomparably better. I don't know precisely when she woke up because by then my eyes were rolling back in my head, but she did shout my name.

I shouted hers, too, and I sped up while squeezing my nipples because I wanted to come before she did, but obviously this was very stupid because going faster just made her come faster.

"What was that about?" she recovered enough to complain while I was still amidst my orgasm.

"Um, you didn't like it?" I asked uncertainly when I regained power of speech. "You came, right?" I didn't see how she could deny it; I'd felt the pulse of the cum.

"I did, right in your vagina. What if you get pregnant? What if I have a disease? And shouldn't you have, you know, asked first?"

"Would you have said yes?"

"No!" she almost shouted, but when she saw the expression on my face and with a roll of her eyes, the anger was gone. "But only because I would have been so embarrassed. I guess you don't mind my extra equipment?"

"It's a dream come true. Can I keep the baby if you put one in me? I mean, you probably didn't because it's too early, but I think I would like to have a baby." I almost said, "Because it's yours," but that seemed too much, too fast. What I'd already said and done was much too much, much too fast. No need to push it even further.

"I don't even know if I'm fertile, but, uh, I... Well, it's your body," she said, visibly struggling to get her mind around what had just happened. "You really come on strong."

"Yeah, sorry," I said, very glad that her rebuke was so mild. So far. I could see her expression darkening as some bad interpretation of my behaviour occurred to her. "I'm not trying to trap you! I mean, maybe I am trying to trap a little bit of your cum because I never thought I was going to get to have a baby with someone I loved, but I'm not, like, trying to get, like, child support or something. I mean, I'm basically just a dumb slut and I don't plan things."

Her eyebrows drew down in displeasure, and I was going to be a little surprised if she hadn't thought of the possibility that I'd been trying to get money out of her until I said it, but it was clear that what I'd said had upset her somehow. It was incredibly upsetting to think that she'd just decided I was a gold digger, so I... didn't.