The Dollhouse Pt. 01

"Get it together, Miki," she muttered under her breath, her voice thick with fatigue. She stood in front of the full-length closet mirror, assessing herself critically. She was naked, her tight, athletic body on display as she turned this way and that, taking in every angle.

The sight of her own body never failed to conflict her with mix of pride and loathing. She had always been athletic, with lean muscles undulating beneath smooth alabaster skin. But no matter how hard she trained or how strict her diet was some part always slipped through the fingers of her exercise and diet regimen. Her tummy had fat (it didn't), her arms were getting too muscular (they weren't), her legs were too short (nope), her ankles too thick (on what planet?), the list of grievances was endless.

To others she was impossible to look away from. Her face was a striking mosaic of unconventional beauty. Each individual feature defied traditional standards, yet when combined, formed a mesmerizing and unforgettable allure. Her unique and prominent nose enhanced the piercing gaze of her light blue, almost silver eyes, while her full lips were framed by pleasingly wide face with great bone structure and lovely, distinguished cheeks. Her raven black hair was styled into a tousled bob, always slightly unkempt, yet perfectly arranged at the same time, like she just rolled out of bed and into a randomly perfect hair day.

To Miki... it was complicated. She knew people found her attractive on some level, pleasing perhaps? But she couldn't see past the flaws. That obsessive attention to detail that served her well in academia and the law was a double edged sword that cut into her self esteem on a regular basis. Every flawed feature was only that: a flaw.

Her small breasts were another source of dissatisfaction - no amount of push-ups or chest presses could change their size, simply put they were tiny little a-cups in a c-cup world. As a consolation prize she didn't have to wear a bra. She was proud of her dark nipples, but couldn't help feeling a twinge of embarrassment when they stood at attention, visible through the thin fabric of t-shirts or light tops. Their smooth, dusky hue contrasted against her skin, drawing attention to their perky shape. She couldn't control their responsiveness, and sometimes wished they would stay hidden beneath layers of clothing. But deep down, she knew there was a certain allure in their boldness and unapologetic presence.

But recent choices and her dire financial situation made relationships a near impossibility. She would be busy from morning until sleep.

She ran her fingers through her neatly trimmed bush. Gwen was bald down there. It was sexy and kind of repulsive at the same time. Miki appreciated how her pubic hair provided at least a little distraction from her large labia and clitoris, which had been a source of embarrassment for her since getting teased about her 'bat wings' in high school gym class. Her cheeks flushed as her fingers brushed against the soft flesh of her folds, the familiar faint glistening of her warm moisture coalescing like dew on flower petals. She paused, letting her fingertips linger in the wetness before tracing circles around her swelling clitoris.

Miki closed her eyes and basked in the sensation of her own touch as she continued to explore and caress herself. Her breaths grew heavier and more frequent as she increased the pressure, each touch rolling over her like a electric rubber waves. She could feel herself getting closer and closer, but self consciousness kept creeping in, threatening to ruin the moment.

She opened her eyes and caught sight of herself in the mirror, pushing away those negative thoughts and focusing instead on the pleasure coursing through her body. She watched in awe as she touched herself - all her imperfections seemed irrelevant as she receded into an inner world of ecstasy, back against the wall now, sinking down until her bare ass hit the cold wood floor. She rode out each ripple of pleasure until finally succumbing to a powerful climax that whisked her from this world to an entirely other place, even if just for a few seconds...

Knock, knock...

Miki followed the auditory invasion into her bliss back to awareness. "I... I'll be right there."

She quickly threw on a pair of black slacks, her post climactically clumsy fingers fumbled with the buttons of her white fitted blouse as she dressed.

James voice form the other side of the door, "it's me, James."

As she unlocked and opened the door he immediately noticed the flushed glow on her face. She looked luscious.

"Oh, hi James."

"I'm really sorry to bother you. They delivered this package to my door by mistake." James held out a package around the size of a shoebox, wrapped in brown paper, with Gwen's name and address.

"Thanks James, I'll pass it along to Gwen."

"Again, so sorry to bother you."

"No problem, really, thanks for being a good neighbor."

"My pleasure. Ok. Bye then"

"Bye, James. Take care."

Miki closed the door. She would forgive this intrusion, it was justified. She shook the box, a bit of heft, no rattles or thuds, it was well packed, at least. Where are you Gwen? You have a package.

~~~~~~~

It had been two days now, since Gwen had promised to meet Miki for drinks, and no word. Ghosted. Miki forced a smile as she left the lecture hall, frustration and concern driving her every step as she crossed the campus to the post grad psych department. She scanned the faces of all passersby for any sign of Gwen but knew if her friend was actually on campus she'd have at least let her know by know. She came upon a small group of students she'd recognized from one of Gwen's parties at the start of the semester. "Hey, have any of you seen Gwen?"

"Uh uh," replied one girl, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. "But you know how Gwen is, right?"

"Actually," chimed in another, her voice barely above a whisper, "She's been weird. Not showing up to class and stuff. I mean that never happened last year. And I heard some things."

Miki perked up. "Like what?"

"It's just a rumor, so take it with a large grain of salt, but word is she's um... you know... escorting."

"I don't know, and I seriously doubt it. Gwen's crazy but she's not a fucking idiot."

Miki's brow furrowed, anger flaring in her chest. Psych majors were the worst, peddling that kind of ridiculous gossip. Gwen was a lot of things, but she wasn't a prostitute. Miki would know, for sure, if Gwen went off the deep end like that.

As she walked away, Miki couldn't shake the nagging doubt that festered. What if it was true? What if something really bad happened and Gwen wasn't coming home?