The Living Doll

By Lilith

Wendy used her own key to open the door to Robert’s apartment. He wouldn’t be home for two more hours, so she had plenty of time to prepare before he arrived.

She would need every minute, too, by her reckoning.

She locked the door behind her and moved her packages into the section of the cozy flat that Robert used for his living room. Propped up on his leather sofa was the inspiration for her scheme: Robert’s Real Doll (TM), the extremely lively sex mannequin he had purchased two months earlier.

She put her coat away in the closet and sat next to the doll.

Robert had left it out dressed in a garnet-colored satin teddy and panties. A matching garter belt held black seamed stockings up on its legs. The doll’s feet were shod in black patent leather pumps with five-inch spike heels — shoes that could be walked in, but not for long. Not that that mattered. The doll never walked anywhere, anyhow. In fact, it didn’t move at all.

Until today, that is.

Wendy opened the larger of the two boxes she had brought with her and spread its contents on the couch next to the doll.

She smiled wickedly. It was a perfect match!

Limp next to the silicone-filled rubber Real Doll (TM) was an empty “skin” made of silicone rubber that was virtually identical to the artificial female. She flipped the skin over to expose the almost invisible zipper that ran from the crown of the “skin’s” head to just above its buttocks. The zipper opened with barely a whisper and she stretched the soft and pliable rubber skin open at the back.

Turning the skin back over, she examined the creation with satisfaction. It was her first opportunity to compare the rubber skin with the doll that had served as its model. She had smuggled Robert’s sex toy out for an afternoon while he was still at work a few weeks earlier in order to have a plaster cast made of the expensive mannequin, but she had to bring it back immediately afterward so it would be waiting for Robert when he got home that night. Despite the brief period of time the doll had been available, her sculptor friend, Ida, had managed to make a perfect casting from it and to take a complete roll of Polaroid photos of the doll in various poses.

Ida had done a marvelous job replicating the dummy completely. The skin had been molded in precisely the same dimensions as the original doll, and the facial features — voluptuous mouth, high cheekbones, hooded bedroom eyes and elegant aquiline nose — were a perfect match for those of the dummy. She had done a masterful job of detailing the rubber skin, duplicating the “makeup” that was permanently painted onto the doll’s face: pouty, sex-swollen lips in a slick crimson stain, dramatically arched auburn eyebrows carefully painted in with a very fine sable brush, two tones of brownish eye shadow on the lids and a trace of blush under the prominent cheekbones to set them off properly.

She had attached acrylic fingernails to the doll’s molded fingertips and colored them to match the lipstick, exactly the same as the Real Doll (TM). She had painted plastic toenails in the same shade to finish off the duplicate.

The empty “skin” Wendy held before her lacked the shoulder-length soft auburn curls of the doll, but that was a minor flaw. Wendy had a hairpiece on a plastic foam stand in the second box that was a perfect twin for the luxuriant hairstyle of the doll. It could be slipped over the crown of the “skin’s” head easily and combed into an identical hairdo with a few brush strokes.

In fact, the only thing the duplicate doll-skin lacked that the original doll had was the metal armature and silicone filling that made the doll into an exact replica of a living woman. The skin was just that: and empty wrapper.

Wendy grinned. Not for long, she thought with glee.

She set to work quickly, stripping the doll’s lingerie, shoes and stockings off and laying them out on the couch. Then she unbuttoned her blouse and began stripping, folding her own clothing carefully and placing it into the box that had contained the rubber skin.

After a few moments, she was completely naked. She turned in front of the full-length mirror near the front door of Robert’s apartment to examine herself before she started her transformation. “Not too bad,” she thought idly to herself as she critically appraised her slim, 5’ 4” frame and full hips and bust. Ironically, her body was almost identical in most respects to Robert’s doll. She wore the same brassiere size, had the same hip measurements and a waist that was only an inch or so bigger around than that of the dummy. Her shoulders were slightly wider, her thighs almost imperceptibly bigger. But a casual observer presented with photographs of Wendy and the doll taken from the neck down would have been hard pressed to tell one from the other. Of course, there were a few peculiarities that would give her away to somebody who knew her well. For one thing, she had an appendectomy scar that was quite noticeable. And of course, her skin felt like human skin — not silicone rubber.

She strode to Robert’s bathroom and patted herself down carefully and completely with talcum powder until she was completely dusted with a fine coat of white. Then she sat on the couch and opened the unzipped back of the doll-skin, sliding her legs inside the rubber garment one at a time, then standing to stretch them up and over her calves and thighs. She manipulated the individually molded toes over her own like a pair of gloves for her feet, stretching and tugging to get the doll feet perfectly lined up over her own. It was work, but not difficult: the rubber Ida had used was soft and silky smooth, a formulation designed to be flexible, yet hold its original shape and resume it once the stretching was over.

With her feet neatly tucked inside those of the doll-skin, Wendy worked the rest of the garment up over her thighs and hips, then wriggled her bare arms into those of the skin and quickly working her powdered fingers down into those of the doll hands, stretching them on as if she was donning a pair of rubber gloves for doing dishes — only these were gloves that were attached to a complete rubber body suit. With the suit smoothly adjusted over her shoulders, her own breasts tightly stuffed into the soft, flexible breasts of the skin, and the molded doll’s head hanging above her rubber-covered breasts, Wendy took a deep breath and pulled the silicone rubber head over her own like a bizarre latex balaclava.

The moment of blindness was disorienting, but as soon as she had tugged the doll’s head completely into place, stretching it over her own, she was able to see again through the clever eyes that Ida had mounted in the mask and breathe through the slender rubber tubes inside the doll’s nose that extended up into her own nostrils. She gripped the zipper at the back of the doll’s head clumsily with her rubber-gloved and long-nailed artificial hands and managed to close the opening, straining somewhat to pull the zipper all the way to the small of her back. With a click, she locked the fly in place and did some stretching exercises to make sure the snug-fitting rubber suit was perfectly seated on her own feminine body.

Studying herself in the full-length mirror, she was stunned. Except for the hair, she was the identical twin of the rubber female sitting naked on the couch. She peered closely at the staring blue eye’s that peered at her under those heavy lidded eyes and dark, curling lashes. Ida had drilled 3/8th inch holes in a pair of prosthetic eyes similar to the ones that had been used in the Real Doll (TM) and had glued them in place inside the doll-skin’s empty eye holes.

Wendy could see clearly through the holes in the pupils, although her peripheral vision was just about nonexistent. The holes were disguised by small clear plastic covers that Ida had glued over them, and the inside of the mask was so dark that Wendy’s own eyes could not be seen through the small openings. She reached up and gently touched the mask’s right cheek with one of her silicon-rubber clad hands, drawing the red nail on her forefinger down the hollow under her exaggerated cheekbone and then sliding her finger inside her voluptuous crimson lips lasciviously. It was astonishing: it looked as if the doll on the couch had suddenly come to life!

Wendy opened the second box and drew out the auburn wig, shook it out briefly, then pulled it over the bald crown of her doll-head. She adjusted the wig’s bangs and the curls at the sides and back, combing them out gently with her rubber-covered fingers until they approximated the tousled tresses of the doll on the couch. Wendy sat down beside her duplicate on the couch and marveled at their amazingly close resemblance: The pair were identical twins curls in almost every respect.

“I always wanted a sister,” Wendy said, finally. “I never even thought about having a twin, though.”

She giggled at the though, noting with satisfaction that the doll-skin’s mouth moved exactly with her own.

Glancing at the clock on the mantle, she quickly donned the doll’s stockings, wrapped the garter belt around her own trim tummy and clipped the tops of the nylons to the four suspenders that dangled from the garment. She pulled on the doll’s panties and red teddy, then slipped her own feet into the doll’s black patent stilettos. The pumps were about a half size too small, but Wendy didn’t care. After all, it wasn’t like she was planning to go on a hike!

With a little effort, she wrestled her naked twin up off the couch and stowed her in a bedroom closet that Robert used for storage, along with the box containing her clothing and the one her red wig had come in.

Another glance at the clock showed that she had managed her substitution with time to spare: Robert wouldn’t get home for another 45 minutes.

She fished a cigarette from a teak box on Robert’s coffee table and placed it between her new rubber doll-face lips carefully, becoming used to the somewhat clumsy feel of the tight rubber hands with their impractical long red nails. Using a large metal lighter from the table, she stepped in front of the full-length mirror and used her reflection to guide her in lighting the cigarette. She replaced the lighter and, walking with rather exaggerated mincing steps in the sky-high stiletto pumps, strode back to the mirror to examine her image and make sure she could pass for the realistic rubber doll.

The reflection in the mirror was totally disconcerting. It was as if she was looking at a totally different woman standing there. She took a deep drag and let smoke drift from the doll-face’s slender nostrils languidly. She smiled at her image and the stranger in the mirror smiled back in an unfamiliar way. Taking another puff, she exhaled a thin stream of smoke and thought back to the first time she had seen Robert’s inanimate girlfriend.

He had meant to shock her and he had succeeded completely. He had left the doll sprawled on the living room couch in a suggestive pose one evening while he had her over for drinks. He mixed her cocktail for her in the kitchen, then led her out to his living room without a word.

When she spotted the semi-nude female, Wendy had reacted with surprised fury, turning on him and cursing him and his “harlot girlfriend” as Robert howled with helpless laughter. It took him several minutes to convince her that the woman on the couch was only an expensive toy, not a rival. Once she understood that she had been the victim of a rather juvenile joke, she was fascinated by the doll and insisted on a complete tour of the lifelike artificial female.

Afterwards, she had been puzzled.

“What is it good for?” she had asked in bafflement. “I mean, I guess you can fuck it, but it doesn’t respond in any way. It just lies there and takes it — in the mouth, cunt or ass. That doesn’t seem like much fun to me. Just a very expensive way to masturbate.”

Robert became defensive. “It’s just a toy, that’s all,” he had responded huffily. “It doesn’t have to be good for anything. It’s just the high-end equivalent of those blow up dolls they sell in the porno bookstores, only more realistic.”

Wendy looked at him with an amused expression. “I will have to take your word on what they have in porno bookstores,” she said. “I don’t spend that much time in them, myself. As for those blow-up dolls, you mean the ones that are sometimes described as ‘marital aids?’ Well, I thought the whole point of one of those was … well, a hole point!”

She giggled as his face reddened.

“Okay, okay,” he stammered. “They are for sex, I admit it.”

Wendy tried to control her smile and failed. “Aren’t I enough for you, honey?” she said, breaking into a giggle. “If anything, I thought I might be wearing you out in bed.”

Robert smiled himself, then laughed out loud.

“Well, you are right,” he said finally. “I can’t complain about the quality or the quantity of sex we have together. Far from it. I consider myself very lucky, actually. But I saw one of these on the Internet and I just had to have it. Besides,” he looked at her appraisingly, “you aren’t always around when I get horny, and girlfriend here may be able to fill the gaps when you are out of town on a business trip or whatever.”

Wendy patted his cheek affectionately. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to have to do without a nice bit of nooky when I am not around,” she said with a smile. “I know those long lonely nights when I am gone must be a trial for you. And if this is more appealing than a date with your old girlfriend, Rosy Palm, I am all for it. I would rather have you tearing off a piece of ass with a plastic plaything than with some bimbo you met in a cruise bar.

“Just don’t try to wrangle me into a threesome with your little pretend girlfriend,” she had added in a parting shot. “I’m kinky, but not kinky enough to want to share my man with another woman who is made out of rubber.”

Wendy smiled at the recollection and lolled back on the couch, a trickle of smoke trailing from the nostrils of her lifelike doll’s face.

“I might not be kinky enough to want to make love with Robert and a rubber doll,” she said, twisting her doll’s face in a sardonic smile, “but I am definitely kinky enough to want to make love with him AS the rubber doll.”

She glanced at the clock on Robert’s mantle. It was almost 6 p.m. He would be home shortly after six.

She rose and minced into the bedroom, took a final drag from the cigarette and flushed it and the residue from the ashtray she had been using in the toilet. Exhaling smoke through her doll’s nostrils, she bent close to the mirror and examined her face a last time. Then she flipped off the bathroom light and returned to the gloom of the living room.

Settling on the couch, she arranged herself into an approximation of the pose the doll had been in when she arrived, letting her head list slightly to the left as if she were listening to something, her shapely rubber and nylon clad legs crossed neatly, one hand open, palm up on her lap while her other arm stretched along the back of the sofa. Satisfied with the simulation, she let her mind drift while she waited for her lover to arrive.

Robert entered his apartment a few minutes past six, hung his coat in the closet near the door and walked into the living room. “Hi, gorgeous!” he said to the doll with a grin.

Wendy had to struggle to keep from answering back.

He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and came out with a bottle of beer and a Pilsener glass, a slightly puzzled look on his face. He poured the beer carefully, looking at the doll with admiration, then set the empty bottle on the bar counter that separated the dining and living rooms. He loosened his tie and moved to the couch, sipping at the beer.

“Well, honey,” he said as he sat down next to the staring scantily-clad rubber redhead and craned his neck to scan the room as if looking for something. “Seems like it is going to be you and me tonight. Wendy doesn’t return from her out-of-town trip until Sunday night. Here it is Saturday, and you know Saturday night is the loneliest night of the week. At least, that’s what they say in the song.”

For a moment after he finished speaking, Robert was silent, listening alertly and sipping his beer. After a minute or so, he sighed as if disappointed, placed the beer on the coffee table and turned his eyes to the doll for the first time.

“Well, it looks like it really is just the two of us,” he said with a smile. He reached out and touched the doll’s left cheek with the tips of his fingers, then frowned and placed his palm on the side of doll-Wendy’s silicone rubber face.

Inside the mask, Wendy strained to remain passive, barely breathing as Robert stroked her face and let his hand slide down over her shoulder and upper arm.

“You DO seem attractive tonight,” Robert said with a tone of amusement. “Maybe a date with you is just what I need — a nice, old-fashioned girl who will let me do whatever I want with her, with no complaints and no regrets.”

Robert dropped his hand onto Wendy’s silky soft doll-thigh and slipped it up her leg to the silky hand-rooted hair of her silicone rubber mons veneris. The pressure was extraordinarily pleasant to her, trussed up inside her rubber costume, and she fought to stifle a moan of enjoyment. Robert leaned forward and pressed his lips against the doll-mask’s voluptuous mouth, then kissed harder, forcing the tip of his tongue between the latex lips slightly. Meanwhile, he kept busy with his hand in Wendy’s crotch, pressing his middle finger into the soft pulpy lips of the doll-skin’s molded rubber vagina.

Wendy stayed inert, although a warm glow was now spreading through her groin. The pressure on her real vulva, just below its molded rubber counterpart, was incredibly arousing. She could feel her body temperature rising, and her lips growing puffy with desire inside the slickly-painted rubber mouth of the mask. She was beginning to realize how difficult it was going to be to remain passive and play the doll during this little charade.

Robert undid his belt and unbuttoned the top of his pants. Standing, he kicked off his loafers and let his trousers and briefs drop to the floor. Using both hands, he reached down and pulled the Wendy-doll’s head forward toward his now totally engorged penis. He guided the tip of his cock into the doll’s sensual pouting lips and Wendy relaxed to admit its throbbing shaft.

Pumping back and forth, Robert slowly and gently fucked the doll’s mouth, moaning slightly with pleasure as his member repeatedly vanished into the doll’s slick red lips only to reappear again an instant later. “Oh, God, that is so good,” he murmured as he speeded up his strokes. “I don’t remember you having this deep a throat, baby.”

Wendy tasted his salty precum and tried to brace for his orgasm. She tended to gag slightly when Robert climaxed in her mouth and she feared she would involuntarily choke if he shot into her doll mouth, prematurely ending her masquerade. She hated for the charade to end. She was enjoying her doll act immensely. She found having sex with Robert while dressed as a rubber doll amazingly exciting and wildly erotic.

But for some reason, Robert decided not to come in the Wendy-doll’s mouth. Instead, he slid his throbbing member out, tilted the doll over sideways and splayed her legs out wide. He pulled down the garnet panties that covered the doll’s lifelike “bush” of synthetic hair, positioned himself between the Wendy-doll’s spread legs and gently pushed his cock into the soft latex lips of the rubber vagina and into the juicy maw of his lover’s real love tunnel.

Wendy was sure she was going to immediately groan with pleasure as Robert entered her, but she managed to refrain. Robert’s cock felt immense inside her as he pumped, and it was all she could do to keep her hands limply on his shoulders where he had positioned them.

His strokes were getting shorter and shorter now and she knew from past experience that he would come very soon. She struggled to remain inert, even though she was on the cusp of climax herself. When he finally shot off inside her with a massive spasm and a deep groan, she came simultaneously, her cunt tightening rhythmically on his shaft.

When it was all over, Robert simply sprawled spent on her rubber-covered body, his gasps slowly giving over to gentle, rhythmic breathing.

Still inside her, he raised himself by one arm and fished a cigarette out of the tray on the coffee table. He lit it, then reached for another one and put it between the doll’s pouty lips.

“I imagine you will want one of these now, too,” he said with a smile. “I know you haven’t had one since before I got home — Wendy, dear!”

“Augh!” Wendy said, pushing him off her with a laugh. “You rotten rat! How long have you know it was me?”

Robert, laughing too, freed her so she could sit, doll-like next to him. The cigarette still protruded from her latex lips, and he used the lighter on the table to give it flame.

“Well,” he said, studying her carefully with admiration, “first of all, I smelled fresh cigarette smoke when I walked into the apartment. Then I saw your coat hanging in my closet when I put my own away. I went to get a beer, figuring you were hiding and would pop out someplace to surprise me when I sat down.

“But you didn’t show up, even though I kept looking around for you,” he continued, drawing on his cigarette and exhaling a thin stream. “To be honest, I never suspected that you were inside the doll until I touched its cheek. That was what gave you away.”

Wendy took a drag and exhaled smoke through her doll’s nostrils. “What do you mean?” she asked. “The rubber of this doll-skin feels exactly like the rubber of your synthetic girlfriend. How could you tell it was me inside?”

Robert laughed. “The doll’s skin is always right around room temperature, unless it is seated next to a heat source of some kind.,” he explained. “When I touched your cheek, the rubber felt just the same as the doll, but it was warm to the touch, like human skin. You wore it long enough to heat it up. Actually, it doesn’t feel all that different from human skin when it is warmed up.”

He laid his hand on the side of her face, and she covered it with her own rubber doll’s hand. “I don’t know how you did it, though,” he said softly. “You look exactly like the doll. Although you certainly don’t feel anything like her.”

She took a drag off her cigarette and exhaled as her blue, staring doll’s eyes remained fixed on him. “If you knew it was me, why didn’t you just say something?” she asked finally, giving her rubber doll’s face a slight smile.

Robert shrugged with a grin. “Frankly, I wanted to see how far you were willing to go with your doll act,” he said. “I figured sooner or later you would have to break character. After all, you were the person who pointed out that the doll didn’t really do anything. ‘It just likes there and takes it,’ were the words you used, if I remember correctly.”

Wendy stubbed out her cigarette and snuggled next to him, placing her rubber-encased head on his shoulder. “And that isn’t my style, is it, dear?” she purred. “I am definitely not the passive type. My performance tonight was very much out of character for me.”

Robert extinguished his own cigarette. “I was surprised you stayed in character so completely,” he said, stroking her rubbery shoulder. “A little disappointed too, I guess. I was sort of hoping my doll would come to life for me, since I knew you were inside it.”

Wendy giggled. “Well, you are going to get your wish, honey,” she said, brushing his mouth with her voluptuous rubbery lips. “This doll is VERY horny, and she has lots of energy left. Making love with you inside this rubber suit really turns me on, and I am planning to spend the rest of the night as your very own living doll!”

END