The Next Doll Pt. 01

Hello Everyone! This is a slow-burn, and entirely a set-up for what's to come. Things are going to be hot and heavy in parts 2 and 3, but I think they'll be worth the wait (and I didn't want to cram too much into this). This first installment is relatively tame, but I felt it was necessary to build the scene, and this concept is something I've had fun exploring in my mind. I hope you enjoy! If you want to make a suggestion for the next chapter, I'll certainly read and consider. I have a few ideas on where things are going.

***************

I stared down at my phone as the UPS package tracking website refreshed. This was a ritual I'd been engaging in for few days now.

"Your package is out for delivery."

Oh my gosh. Today was the day.

I sat on the couch, my foot tapping, my body riddled with anxious excitement. This day had been such a long time coming. Even after everything that had gone into the process, I couldn't get over my disbelief that something would actually come of it.

What had it been? Six months? At least that. It had begun so insouciantly, clicking on what I was certain had to be a bogus advertisement on a porno site. "Artificial Intelligence Sex Doll Tester" was the headline. I clicked on it, knowing that not many advertisements that you come across on porn sites tend to be legitimate. The company was called, "The Next Doll", and they claimed to be associated with "RealDoll", but I knew that in this area of the World Wide Web, people made a lot of fraudulent claims. Nevertheless, I was a sucker for all things AI and robots, so I'd filled out the contact form with a fake name and my junk email address. I figured some scammer might reach out to me and I'd have a laugh at the whole thing. No big deal.

Even after those first few emails back and forth with what seemed like a genuine human being, I was skeptical. A "company representative" named Ryan had been writing me, insisting that his company was having a difficult time enlisting participants who would fuck their erotic creations. When we were discussing payment plans, I became entirely certain that this was a very elaborate con job. They made it sound like they were going to pay ME to test the doll, can you imagine? $50 per week to give them honest feedback on how their robot doll performed. Talk about too good to be true.

It wasn't until that first phone call to discuss "Preferences" that I began to wonder if this might be a real thing. I had been doing some research for a project when I got a call from an unknown number. Usually I ignore those, but I had been itching for some kind of distraction, so I picked it up.

"Hello, Mr. Grinwis? This is Alex with 'The Next Doll', how are you today?"

I was dumbfounded. I hadn't given them my phone number or my real name, yet somehow, they had acquired both. I should have hung up or told them they had the wrong number, but I was too befuddled to think straight,

"Umm....yeah. I'm okay. Listen man, I don't think I want to-"

Alex could tell I was having cold feet, so he cut me off.

"My Grinwis, I'm sorry if this call has come as a surprise. This call is being recorded, and I'm afraid that for legal purposes, we have to use your real name in our direct correspondence, which we've acquired through a background check based on your most common IP address. If you would like to back out of the testing, I completely understand, but I don't mean for my introduction to startle you or concern you."

Admittedly, I didn't really know the first thing about "legal purposes" or how IP addresses worked, but that all seemed like it made sense. Plus, the guy had given me the opportunity to opt out. I thought about it for a second and then responded.

"No man. It's alright. I understand. You did kind of spook me there for a second, but I'm good."

"Okay great!" Alex replied, his voice relieved that he hadn't scared me away, "If you have a minute, I'd like to talk about designing your doll."

I did have time to talk, but he'd caught me when I was sitting in the grad student library. I quickly gathered my things so I could go somewhere I could speak more freely. I figured sex doll design might not be an appropriate discussion topic around my peers.

Having re-located myself to the end of a dead-end hallway in the library archives, I spent about 20 minutes on the phone with Alex while I designed what I figured would be my perfect woman. Bleach blonde hair with blue eyes, a large but reasonable pair of breasts, and a big ass. There was something inside of me that was a sucker for the "bimbo" look, but there was nothing on the outside of me that was going to attract it.

I was 26-year-old grad student with short brown hair. Standing 5'8" and 145 pounds, I wasn't exactly a male specimen. I'd dedicated most of my life to my efforts in school, which unfortunately had not been the path to courting the woman of my dreams. Admittedly, when the premise of designing my own woman had first presented itself, most of my motivation came from the simple truth that I wasn't going to get what I dreamed of any other way.

Because these dolls were more like sex bots than voluptuous mannequins, Alex had even asked me what kind of personality I wanted my doll to have. There were more than a dozen options, ranging from, "Yes, Daddy" to "Call Me Mistress". Part of me was thinking I should go with "Brain-Dead Bimbo" to match the look of the doll, but I wondered if I might get tired of that after a while. Alex told me that the current artificial intelligence has the ability to make small adaptations to the user, and for a more balanced experience he recommended, "Nice and Neutral", which is what I ended up going with.

When I had just about finished up all of the small details with Adam, an idea had popped into his head,

"Oh my gosh, I completely forgot. Mr. Grinwis, I apologize, this should have been my first question: We can make your doll a male? Would you prefer a male?"

I paused. I mean, of course I would want a female, right? I was straight, so I should order a female.

I had recently had some bi-curious thoughts though. Combined with the fact that I had dabbled in some crossdressing in the past year, I'd be lying if I said the thought of being with a man hadn't crossed my mind.

This was too big of an opportunity to waste on those thoughts thought.

"No," I answered Adam, "this female is perfect. Thanks."

"Okay great, thank you Mr. Grinwis. We'll start building your doll in a few days. It will take about 4 months to build, and then a couple weeks to ship. If you have any questions, just let us know!"

I thanked him, and after exchanging goodbyes, the call ended. I stood there at the end of the bleakly lit hallway, leaning against the cement wall as the situation began to dawn on me: They were actually going to build me a doll. I was actually going to get have sex with the woman of my dreams (kind of)!

Later that night as I lay in bed, I began to imagine what it would be like when my doll arrived. What would I do first? Would I talk to her? I mean, they claim the doll can carry out normal conversations. It would feel weird NOT to talk to her. I caught myself referring to the doll as "her" and laughed at myself. I was already in too deep.

As I began to drift off to sleep, my one open eye could see the sleeves of a dress peeking out from the corner of my closet. A black dress, with lace sleeves. One of the few good things that had come out of the thrift store that I had begun to frequent in the hopes of getting to indulge this newly embraced crossdressing habit at a discount. It had a slight flare at the waist to give the false impression that I had some sort of feminine shape and fit comfortably snug around my shoulders. It wasn't my favorite, but I had always been quite pleased with it since the day I brought it home.

The sight of it brought my mind back to the conversation earlier with Adam. When he'd asked me if I wanted the doll to be a man, a small part of had considered making the change.

I'd grown up in a religious and conservative family and it was clear to me since I was a child that having anything to do with the LGBTQ+ community was going to be a "no-go". Fortunately, that wasn't really an issue for me. Yes, I had done my share of sneaking into my sister's room to try on her clothes without her knowledge. And like all other boys, I'd attempted to cut up my own clothes to make them more feminine. But every guy did that right?

No, I knew that none of that was "normal" behavior, but I also knew that embracing that side of myself was never going to be an option for me anyway. So, trying to do what I perceived to be "the right thing", I'd always kept those things to myself. Up until recently, I'd been doing a pretty nice job of repressing it too.

But about mid-way through my first year of grad school, while living in an apartment all by myself in a town far away from home, the pressure to repress those feelings had waned. In a moment of weakness, I'd allowed myself to purchase my first dress. With that came another dress. And after that came a wig. Not much later and I'd started a small collection of make-up, and my wardrobe was expanding. None of it was that remarkable, but I was elated to have access to so many of the things that were forbidden growing up.

However, one thing I was certain I would NEVER have access to was the experience of having sex as a woman. That feeling of submission, of complete sexual purpose in the form of giving myself up to someone else. The sensation of allowing my body to be used explicitly and only to satisfy the sexual needs of another. To be touched, and groped, all the while being thrusted into, with the end result being a man ejaculating inside of me. No, I knew that was off limits.

And it was off limits because I knew I was a coward. There were simply too many things that frightened me about it. Between sexually transmitted disease, family shame, public acknowledgement, etc., it all served as a big enough barrier to keep me straight (ish).

But then I realized: With this doll, I could avoid all of that. I could have that experience, and none of the potential negative consequence. So why wouldn't I?

I called Alex back the next day and asked to make the doll a male.

I had worried he might question the reason for the switch, but Alex didn't miss a beat. Rather, he assured me that it was not an issue, and directed me through the same process we'd been through the day prior to create my bimbo, but this time for a male doll.

I ended up designing a very generic looking guy because I had never earnestly looked at men this way. The concept of having sex as a woman was so abstract that I had never bothered to pinpoint the man to fulfil the infatuation. My doll was going to be the stock height of 5'10", with green eyes and brown hair. Adam told me their newly developed "stubble" for facial hair was really popular with their in-house testers, so I had that added to my doll too. I didn't really know what I was doing; I figured I was in this for the experience, not a boyfriend.

When it came time to pick the personality, Adam threw me a curveball.

"Mr. Grinwis, we're working on a new 'personality type', but it's still in its very early trial phase. As of right now, it's only in testing for the male dolls otherwise I would have offered it to you yesterday. Would you have any interest in discussing that?"

I didn't really have a strong opinion one way or the other about the doll's personality. I wasn't really planning on doing much besides have sex with it.

"Sure." I replied.

"The personality type is called, 'Complete Adaptive'. It's our purest form of artificial intelligence, which will allow the doll to acclimate to any sexual encounter as it determines would be most pleasure-inducing to its user. We believe that this will ultimately lead to the optimum experience for our buyers, but these early-stage tests might be...different."

"Different?" I asked, concerned.

"Maybe that's a bad word for it", Adam backtracked, "it's just that with the other dolls, you know exactly what you're getting out of the box. We're just trying to fine tune them. But with this personality, it's a bit of a wildcard. Our biggest concern is that our users might be bored or disappointed by the doll making the wrong assessment."

"Oh, I see", I replied, pausing to think, "but like, it'll learn to do better, right? And it'll still perform normal...sex things?"

"Absolutely," Adam responded reassuringly, "At least it should improve. The doll still knows that its purpose is to fulfil your sexual needs. It's just that it's going to make that assessment on its own based on our full database of sexual deviancies, rather than based on a pre-programmed script of certain sexual behaviors. It's going to attempt to assess your mental and emotional state and act accordingly. We're paying $500 per week if you opt for this personality."

$500 a week!? I mean, before I was tickled at the idea of getting paid at all, but $500 a week was going to double the stipend I was living on as a grad student. As long as the damn thing didn't kill me, I couldn't afford not to take advantage of this.

"Alright, let's do it." I told Adam.

"Great! I don't think you'll be disappointed. The in-house testing has been a lot of fun to observe. It's just so much different than what we've seen with the other dolls, and it's still so early. But I think you'll really enjoy it."

**************************

About two months after completing design of my doll, I received the following email from Adam.

"Mr. Grinwis,

I'm pleased to let you know that the building of your doll is moving forward excellently. Everything is right on schedule.

In our development of the 'Complete Adaptive' personality style, we've discovered that our results improve dramatically if we provide the doll's processing unit digital photographic material of the end user. It allows us to input sexual attraction into the doll itself, while maintaining its independent decision making. Please forward between 5-10 photos of yourself for processing. For best results, these photos need to be recent, and they need to be an accurate reflection of how you will look when you interact with your doll. For optimum input, please forward one photo of yourself nude, or near nude.

Regards,

Adam"

I was flummoxed. I didn't want to mess up my doll's programming, but I was never aware that anyone was going to see my face in this process. And the whole reason that I'd picked this doll to be a man was so that I could have a "woman's" experience, and I'd been planning to look the part when the time came...

In fact, over the past two months, I'd been trying pretty hard to look the part!

For the first time since high school, I'd set foot in the gym in the hopes that I might procure some kind of a feminine shape before the doll arrived. I know it sounds silly, but if I was going to enjoy the thrill of being a beautiful woman, then I wanted to do everything I could to feel like one too.

It had been a lot of squats, hip thrusts and lunges, and the progress was slow, but I was beginning to take baby steps in the direction of obtaining the shape I was aiming for.

In addition to that, I'd begun to practice my make-up multiple times a week, experimenting with different product combinations and eye-looks. I'd discovered a brand new world in the form of YouTube make-up tutorials, and I was rapidly becoming enthralled in the endless assortment of available styles. I could never bring myself to take photos of myself, but I had arrived at a point where I felt like the image I produced in the mirror wasn't half bad.

At the bottom of the email was an attachment that I clicked on. It opened up to show a photo of my half-completed doll.

With half the doll's face incomplete, it was something of a terminator-esque sight, and not particularly enticing. That said, it was undoubtedly my doll.

The green eyes had been installed, along with the stubble on the side of the face that was seemingly finished. The skin color was the sun-kissed tan we'd agreed on. So far, so good, I guessed.

Unattached to my doll but sitting in plain sight in the photo was what I assumed to be the doll's cock. Adam told me they were very proud of their efforts to create, "the most life-like penis that isn't attached to a man." Resting on the table, seemingly flaccid, but still quite large, it was much more of an apparatus than any dildo I had ever seen. What I assumed to be the external portion of the unit was a tanned, thick, 7-inch cock, "veiny, but not too veiny" as Adam had suggested. It looked just like any other high-end dildo I had seen. But poking out of its base end were dozens of wires, tubes, and other mechanical things that I assumed must have had contributed to the cock's ability to "Pulse, feel, and even ejaculate to simulate climax". The whole thing looked a bit messy when it sat there exposed, but I had to believe the finished product would hide all of that.

I took a deep breath as I leaned back in my chair and tried to think about the situation as a whole. On the one hand, there was still some chance that this was an elaborate ruse to blackmail me. If I sent Adam photos of myself dressed up as a woman, then he would have indisputable evidence that I was some sort of cross-dressing, sex-doll seeking creep. Not ideal.

But on the other hand, given the fact that Adam had found out who I really am, he must also know that I don't exactly money to offer him as some sort of ransom payment. And it also seemed odd that his company would start building the doll to my specifications just to keep their ploy going. They seemed as invested in the project as I was.

The next night, I sent Adam a gallery of 8 pictures (including one of myself in only a bra and pair of panties). I don't know that I could bring myself to award myself the description of "passable", and after all, Adam had heard my voice on the phone multiple times, so he knew he was interacting with a man. But I'd carefully styled myself from head to toe to try to present as some sort of self-respecting 20-something woman. I was actually relatively pleased with how the photos turned out, but still horrified that I was voluntarily sending these to a stranger.

The next morning, he emailed me back.

"Wow! What a surprise! Definitely not what I expected after talking on the phone. But you look fantastic. I'm sure David will love you (that's your doll's name). By the way, what would you like David to call you?"

I'd already considered this possibility.

"Please have the doll call me Meaghan." I wrote him back.

"Meaghan it is."

***************************

There was a knock at the door.

I took a deep breath and stood up from the couch. This was it.

I opened the door to an out-of-breath UPS driver standing next to a box that was bigger than him.

"What's in here man? Some sort of skinny fridge!?" he cried between breaths, "This damn thing nearly killed me getting it up the stairs!"

"Oh geez, dude, I'm sorry," I replied, half laughing at the idea of a "skinny fridge", half realizing that the doll probably was a beast to move around, "Are you alright?" I asked him.

"Yeah, I'm good," he replied, grateful to have the load off of him as he handed me his clipboard to sign for the delivery, "You need it inside?"

"No, I'll take it from here." I assured him. I figured I'd end our interaction as soon as possible to avoid any further discussion about what was inside the box.

"Haha alright man. Be careful! This thing weighs more than you!" he warned me, looking the box up and down one more time, before trotting off before I could change my mind about where he left it.

With a combination of care and what little brute force I could offer, I slid the box into my kitchen and laid it down on the floor.