Velvet

Wrapped in the warm cocoon of sweetly scented ivory sheets in our lavish hotel suite, I had never felt such happiness. My life had been filled with unbelievable twists and turns over the last few weeks, and I could scarcely believe them when my mind wandered back to them again. I suppose you could say that I had finally arrived at my happy ending, despite giving up on it completely only a mere few days ago.

My name is Velvet. I am quite attractive, and yes, I know how vain that sounds. But once you've heard my tale, I'm sure you'll agree.

It all started once upon a time in a land far, far away. California, to be exact. My earliest memories were of a vague, muted warmth and the subtle pressure of hands all over my nude body. When my eyes opened, I found myself gazing into the sky blue eyes of the man I would come to know as Chris.

"You're quite the lovely lady," he had breathed, his features pinched in concentration as he applied something to my lips with a feather-soft brush. "It'll be a shame to send you off."

"Dude! Are you talking to the dolls again? I think you need a vacation." Another man's voice called from far across a brightly lit workroom.

"Shit," Chris smirked, glancing over his shoulder. "Vacation? What is that? I've got to get the fucking boat fixed, and this little lady's going to help do just that. The least I can do is pay her a compliment."

"Right. Well, if they start talking back, I'm quitting." The other man replied, and Chris gave me a soft pat on the cheek before wandering off.

I longed to see where he had gone, but soon understood that I could only observe. I couldn't move of my own accord, nor could I feel or speak. All I could do was see the world around me and hear the conversations of the men who created "girls" like me.

But Chris and his coworker, Matt, were very kind and thoughtful. They painted my fingernails, made sure my skin was smooth and flawless, and always treated me and the other dolls in progress as if we meant a lot to them. Not just creations of silicone and steel, but as if we were genuine creatures of heart and soul ... which, I suppose, we were.

One afternoon, as I lay posed on a sofa clad in a raven chemise of the softest velvet, Chris appeared. He was lifting me and carrying me, and I saw the workshop and all my sisters in various states of assembly as we breezed past the rest of the workspace. We moved quickly, and Chris was humming gaily as he took me out into a large loading dock where a small truck awaited, and beside that, a large wooden box.

"Ohhhh!" The driver exhaled a long plume of bluish smoke in the sweltering afternoon heat as I was carried toward the box. "Ain't she a looker? Where is she off to, Matt?"

"New York," the other young man sighed, moving into view as I was turned and carefully settled down into a large wooden freight crate, my eyes fixed on the ceiling of the large garage. "The guy paid us fifteen large to finish her as soon as possible, which rocks 'cause her body type wasn't that hard to develop. Just smaller figure. Not much in the tits and ass department. I don't get it, but hey—it's his money."

As Chris began to secure my arms and legs with clinging cloth straps, I could sense a great change in the air. I wondered where New York was. Why I had to leave Chris and Matt. Hadn't I been lovely enough to keep around?

"Well, we'll get her there safe and sound," the uniformed man said as the cover to the crate was lifted before me, and then I knew only darkness.

I don't know how much time passed. Only that when I next saw light, it was diminished and golden, and I was in an entirely new location. At first, I saw a large bed. It was piled high with fluffy pillows and looked very beautiful in the golden light. Then the crate shifted slightly, and I could see candles on a small table near a window. They were crimson, elegantly tall and slender.

And then I saw his face. He bent over me, and I was greeted by the most enchanting green eyes. They seemed to be full of warmth and joy when they gazed down at me, and he hurriedly began to unfasten the straps that held me in place, bending to lift me out.

"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, hurriedly dropping me onto the bed, then collapsing onto it beside me, obviously slightly winded but elated nevertheless. "You don't look that heavy!"

One of his hands ran over my belly, caressing the ebony velvet lingerie I wore as he gazed reverently into my face. Then his hand reached for one of mine, and cradled it between his own large ones.

"Wow, you feel amazing," he mused, leaning over to get a closer look at my face. One hand left mine to reach up and stroke my cheek. "Soft as velvet. They picked the right clothes for you, honey. But I wonder about how you look out of them..."

Getting to his feet, he crossed the room to a stereo system, turning on some sultry music. Then, he moved to the periphery of my vision to blow out all but one of the candles.

Returning to the bedside, he bent over me and carefully removed the delicate piece of lingerie I wore. Then he draped the top sheet up over my waist, and gazed down at me with a soft smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"Now that we've slipped you into something more comfortable, let's cuddle like you ladies enjoy doing."

My first evening with my new handsome stranger was magnificent, and I frequently found myself longing to be able to feel all the lavish sensations he was no doubt providing.

He embraced me with his eyes closed, and took great pleasure simply holding me. But when he parted my legs and I glimpsed how perfectly his own body had been made, I truly longed to feel, touch, taste and smell everything. The scent of his skin, the taste of his kisses. I longed to experience it all.

Hours later, after he had bathed me with the tenderness of the world's most gentle lover, I reflected on how lucky I was to be with such a kind man. He was very thorough with his cleansing, and once he lifted me from the spacious, two-person tub, he lay me down on a fluffy, royal-blue towel, very carefully patted me dry, and applied a fine veil of powder all over my body before returning me to his bed, where he lay with his head against my shoulder.

Over the next few weeks, we luxuriated in one another's company. I learned from his varied phone conversations that his name was James. I knew about his difficult dealings with The Bastards at Work. I was even privy to his secret passion for New Wave music, as he'd put in one of his favorite albums by Frankie Goes to Hollywood, and dance enticingly about the room before settling with me where ever I lay for more pleasurable interactions, smiling in a bashful manner and wistfully murmuring a cherished memory the music brought back to him as he rested his head against my bosom.

All this bliss came tumbling down one afternoon when Julie came for a visit. I had heard his conversations with her over the phone, and the look in his eyes suggested that he was missing her very much.

I was awakened out of my darkness to bright afternoon sunlight pouring through the large bedroom window and James standing before me, his auburn hair lustrous in the warmth of the radiant golden light.

"See? Isn't she great?" he asked, reaching down to tangle a hand through my silken, honey-colored hair. "I mean her hair is as soft as silk, and feels so real!"

"Yes," a female voice sighed wearily, and a lovely young woman entered the room to stand beside James, staring critically down at me. "Oh, my God, James! You've got to be kidding!"

"What?" James grinned, elbowing the blonde playfully. She scowled, straightening in her crimson heels. She was clad in a garnet, spaghetti-strapped tank and raven Capri pants, and her own pale blonde hair was swept back into a tight tail, She was extremely lovely. "If you won't indulge a threesome with an actual girl yet, think of Velvet here as training wheels."

"You've named her?" The blonde raised her eyebrows with incredulity.

"Yeah. Why not? It's what she was wearing when I got her and it just fits, doesn't it?" Silence and an increase in the frown the blonde wore. "God, Julie! You're so dramatic. Come on. A little wine, some Massive Attack on the stereo, and we'll have an awesome time."

So this was the mysterious Julie. She was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. Very buxom, with a delicately pretty face. And James looked at her with such reverence that I thought she'd agree for certain to his notions.

"Oh sure. Hey, I've always wanted to have comatose sex with a huge heap of silicone and paint. Do you realize how serial killer this is?"

James looked truly hurt as he distanced himself from her. He moved closer to the crate to lift one of my perfectly manicured hands, and held it out to Julie.

"If I were a serial killer, this would be submerged in a gelatin mold in the refrigerator. Besides, I learned to indulge your anal curiosities when we're fucking, even if it feels weird to feel that huge dildo in your ass while I'm doing you."

"Oh, there's that eloquence and suave disposition again. How can I resist throwing myself into your arms," she sneered, shrugging unhappily. The gesture made her breasts sway enticingly. "You know what?" She turned her back to him, and started out of the room.

"Julie! Come on! Don't start this shit!"

"I'm flying back to Miami. I don't need this today. If you're ready to put away your toys and come play with a real woman, I'll be at our condo. I cannot handle this, James."

Smacking one hand to his brow in exasperation, James hurriedly followed, leaving me to gaze into the now-empty bedroom. Their voices were raised in the other room before the loud slam of a door resounded throughout the entire loft.

Poor James. He seemed inconsolable. No longer did he lovingly brush my hair as he once used to, sitting me against the sofa with my head between his legs as he worked. No more did he return from fancy clothing stores with new outfits for me to wear.

He merely threw himself into his work, spending more and more time away. His notebook computer was his constant companion now, and rarely did I see a smile in those lovely, jade-colored eyes. Especially after he got off the telephone with, I would assume, Julie.

And so it was that late one night after I had witnessed James preparing to go out that an amazing event occurred. He had left, keeping the radio on so he wouldn't come home to a silent apartment, as he always did during his infrequent trips out to go dancing. I sat perched upon my stool in my crate—bound with the Velcro constraints so I wouldn't topple out—when I heard the front door open and close.

Patiently I waited for his voice—he would often come home singing from one of his nights out. It didn't come. Instead, the brisk click of heels on granite tile grew louder, approaching the bedroom. A woman entered my line of sight, and as if she knew precisely where she was going, approached my crate.

"Hey, Velvet," she smiled. It was a seductive smile. She was a seductive creature with a throaty, honeyed voice. Long, wavy crimson hair and large sapphire eyes. She wore an ivory tank dress and matching heels, and her figure was phenomenal. "Didn't anyone teach you manners? It's polite to say 'Hello' back when someone greets you."

But I was unable to talk for something strange and wonderful was happening all over my form. My mouth suddenly felt ... What was it? And my arms and legs ... They were filled with an unpleasant sensation that I did not recognize.

"You, my dear, are becoming Real. Go on. Say something."

"I ... I'm..." My mouth felt warm and wet, and I ran my formerly stationary tongue over the smooth pearl of my perfectly even teeth. "How...? Who...?"

"I'm Alex. Due to circumstances I've been sworn not to relate, my owner transformed me from a pleasure-doll into a real woman under two conditions. And that's what I'm going to offer to you tonight. I know how much you love James, and it's my job to help you show that to him."

I wiggled my fingers, feeling the roughness of the wood beneath them. I inhaled the spicy floral warmth of Alex's perfume as she leaned in closer to me. I felt the coolness of the satin teddy I wore against the warmth of my skin.

"Two conditions?" I asked, my voice a bit high and tremulous to my own astonished ears.

"Yes. Two conditions. The first is that James consummates your relationship with you in your present condition unquestioned. The second is that you convince him in one night to forsake Julie and choose you.

"If you accomplish all this, you can stay Real. But, if James refuses, then it's back into the crate you go, and I can never return to you." She folded her arms and leaned against the frame of the crate, narrowing her eyes mischievously. "I hate these things," she mused, kicking at my crate with one pointed toe of her shoe. "I just released this beautiful little Asian doll who had been left alone in hers for seven months! The poor girl nearly had a heart attack when she saw me."

But ... but he'll never believe me!"

"He doesn't have to. He just has to want you badly enough, girl. And with an ass and a rack like yours, you should have an easy night ahead of you. Seriously. No pressure. This will be totally easy. You'll see."

And with that, she turned, starting for the door.

"Wait!" I cried, trying to get loose of my bonds. "Wait! How did you find me? How can I find you?"

The front door slammed, and I knew I was alone. Wiggling more confidently, I bent my right arm to reach for the strip of fabric securing my left upper arm, yanking it free of its corresponding cuff. It came free with a loud ripping and crackling, and I pulled my left arm free.

Repeating the same process with my right, I bent to free my waist and ankles.

At last, I stumbled out of the crate and lost my balance, falling hard onto my bottom. The pain was exquisite and amazing as I landed on the dove-gray carpet with my legs trembling. Rolling onto my side, I gained my feet again, and started toward the bathroom.

Alive! I was alive! Settling my weight against the bathroom countertop, I lifted my eyes to the reflection in the mirror. Long, straight hair the color of golden grain warmed by the sun, aquamarine eyes that glimmered with vitality, and skin that glowed with ruddy good health in my sculpted cheeks and felt warm to the touch as I traced one fingertip over it.

Reaching back, I tugged at a lock of my hair and felt sharp pain as I did so. Thrilled, I turned and wandered out of the spacious bathroom and into the living room. My bare feet smacked against the cold floor as I sat on the sofa, crossing my legs as I had seen James do so many times. Gazing around the room, my eyes fell on a spread of brochures and papers on the coffee table.

Leaning forward, I caught sight of tall trees captured in mid-sway against the backdrop of a startlingly blue sky. Glittering cobalt waves churned in the background, topped with white foam, and a blinding strip of beach between that and the trees.

More brightly illustrated pamphlets. And lists of numbers, some of which had been marked with a highlighting stroke of a pen. All of a sudden, I recalled the argument of many afternoons ago. Julie had said she was returning to Miami. Was this the mystery tropical destination pictured in these brochures? Was James going to leave me?

"No!" I gasped, dropping the papers and getting to my feet. Unable to believe that he might be leaving me now that I was real, I panicked.

Quickly, I made my way back toward our bedroom, moving to the trunk of clothes James kept for me and hurriedly trying to dress myself, fighting back tears of frustration as my uncooperative legs tangled in the denim length of my jeans as I rushed.

I wanted to leave and find my James, but had no ideas where he might have gone. The city looked immense when I gazed out the plate-glass windows of the living room. All I could do was stand there, clad in jeans and a T-shirt, unable to decide what my next move should be. Should I go out and search the streets? Ask around?

Thinking of how wonderful our union would be if I were able to find him and explain to him what had happened, I began to formulate a plan for going out when the front door began to rattle in the frame.

Quickly, I dashed out of sight, hurrying into the darkened kitchen to crouch behind the countertop, listening as he entered the apartment and made his way toward the sofa with a shuffling step.

"Fuckin' ... When I wanna grow up ... Fuck that..." A thump as he collapsed onto the sofa, tossing his shoes aside.

Moments later, soft snores issued from the sofa. Getting to my feet, I slid from my cover and approached the sofa, catching a faint hint of the fresh marine cologne he had splashed on before venturing out.

Glimmering with warm copper highlights, his hair looked impossibly soft and luxuriant in the low lamplight. Freed from my limited coma, I could hardly believe my luck when I was able to kneel before him and run the back of one hand over his smoothly shaven cheek. At last, I could be the one to initiate the moments between us. No longer would I have to lie there passively as I had been doing for so long. And what had Alex said? We had to consummate our passions mutually, and I had to convince him to choose me over Julie?

Moving in closer to him, I brushed my crimson lips over his brow. He stirred, lifting a hand briefly to place it upon my shoulder before it fell back to his side.

"Shhhh," I soothed, settling him onto his back as I embraced him. The feel of his muscular torso beneath my arms was thrilling. His skin was warm beneath my lips, and my own brazen actions emboldened me. I kissed his lips, and then parted them with my tongue, tasting his mouth. Running my tongue over his, then letting mine mingle with it, his body relaxing under me as I settled closer, and my breath coming in hot puffs against his cheek as I lost myself in the kiss.

Surrendering myself to the music and mood, I was all lust and sensation as I felt warmth spreading throughout my body. One of his hands reached around to tangle in my hair, and he tossed restlessly beneath me as I settled on top of him, my breasts giving against his chest as he began to kiss me back.

"Mmmm..." he sighed, his hips arching against me. I felt a hard rigidity against my crotch and gasped, suddenly limp with pleasure. "You're gorgeous," he breathed, breaking the kiss to gaze at me through half-lidded eyes.

"Thank you," I smiled, sitting up to fling off my shirt, revealing the almost unnatural perfection of my bosom. "So are you, James."

"Thanks," he smiled. One hand reached up to squeeze my left breast. I collapsed in a swoon as the tingle of that caress sent chills racing through my body like glittering stardust. My eyes closed.

The next moment, we had toppled onto the floor and he was busily undressing me. His own clothes were hastily discarded. Kisses and caresses were exchanged, and I marveled at each new feeling. However, the most urgent and insistent stirring came from my vagina. I had never known such sweet agony. A feeling of clenching yet opening all at once, like a blossom to the increasing warmth of a summer morning.

How fortuitous his trip to the bar had been! I suspect he merely thought of me as a girl who had accompanied him home, and that was precisely how I wanted him to think of me right now.

My attention was abruptly returned to my handsome lover as I felt his hands delving between my thighs. His fingertips stroked me roughly and I gasped, which made him repeat the gesture once again.

"God, you're just perfect." He breathed into my ear as I felt fingertips moving inside me. "Soaked and perfect." Unable to believe the condition of my body and my ability to feel it, I simply tightened my embrace and arched my hips higher.