Bonus Art - Doll Days (Plus Short Story)

(Hello! Apologies for the delay again with posting this. I wanted it out sooner but life has been hectic between seemingly everything breaking in my apartment at once, needing to get things fixed and aaa. But it's here now. Enjoy~)

"...Huh?"

I blink at the delivery that awaits me at the front door. So dumbfounded am I, that my wide-eyed gaze never once leaves the towering wooden crate looming over me as I sign for it and hand the pen back to the delivery man, who at this point has long since left to continue their rounds.

I stand in bewilderment for what must be a good five minutes, mind simply blank, until a few choice words finally manage to break through the cloudy haze that has rooted me to the spot for so long.

Namely words like, 'how', 'why', and 'when', with a lot of question marks thrown in for good measure, to the point a giant one must be hovering over my head right now.

I've been known to be something of an online shopping addict, I'll admit, and sometimes do a bit of 'retail therapy' when I'm at my lowest--and drunkest--points, because cute figurines and shiny new bits of technology do wonders to stave off the more depressing thoughts that circle me like sharks...but this? This is excessive even for me. And that's REALLY saying something.

What even IS this...? Scratching my head, I circle the crate still standing by the front door to my apartment. I have no recollection of ordering anything these last few days, let alone something THIS big. Was it something I bought a while ago that's just now finally arriving? I do order from overseas quite a bit...

Whatever it is, though...the wooden crate is sturdy. Tall. Almost tall enough to fit a...a human. Like a coffin. Which is a little unsettling, I have to admit. I didn't drunkenly go onto some dark web site and buy a body, did I?!

At this point, I'm more than apprehensive about even opening it. I should have sent it back on the spot when I first opened my door and found myself staring at the slab of wood. But in all of my awe, I signed for the darn thing. And now the delivery person is long gone. How am I even going to get it inside...?

--

After a good deal of struggling and several breaks later--not to mention quite a few less than good-natured curses being squawked out in frustration--I'm finally able to push the upright crate into my apartment. Just barely. Enough to close the door behind it at the very least so my neighbours don't think even worse of me than they might already do.

Which only leaves...opening it now. If I really want to do that. Do I? I'm...I'm not so sure. I feel like I have a pandora's box looming over me. And that once I crack the lid of this thing open...there's no going back. My life will forever change. As if deep down, in the drunkest, most inebriated parts of my subconscious, I know what this is. I just wish the two sides of me were a bit more unified at times like these, instead of leaving sober me a nice big 'present' to stress over for the good deal of this morning!

Bah. Whatever. I'll just get this over with. Be it a body, or a stash of weapons, or even some ancient, cursing artifact...I'll deal with whatever consequences that await me. I've fretted over things my whole life and been afraid to take risks. And where has that gotten me in life? Absolutely nowhere! So on the off-chance that this can shake up the depressing malaise that hangs so heavy over me, I'll take this plunge. Just this once!

Foraging a hammer from the depths of a closet, I return back to the massive crate propped in front of my door, blocking the way out now like some kind of imposing foe. I'm...I'm not afraid of you, crate! I have a weapon now!

"H-hraghhhh!"

I grit my teeth. A mighty battle cry escapes me--that definitely didn't sound more like a frightened bird squawking--and I use the claw-side of the hammer to pry the front of the crate off. A dramatic battle ensues. Man against wood. And for a while...despite my best efforts...and so much sweat drenching my increasingly exhausted frame...it seems like the crate might win. But I don't let it get the best of me. Even when a few times it wobbles precariously, and there's a real risk of me getting crushed by the darn thing. And with enough perseverance--and maybe a few tears--the lid comes flying off.

Taking me with it.

"O-oof!"

I fall back onto my butt with a yelp. Hammer and lid alike clatter to the side in the aftermath of the dramatic struggle. And after nursing my bruised rear for a moment, I finally gaze upon the prize that lies beyond, nestled within a bed of styrofoam beads--a good amount of which have also tumbled out in a pure white avalanche all around me.

It's...it's...!

"H-hyeeee?!"

I scramble to my feet with a start. My heart-rate skyrockets. Another very manly noise escapes me as I try to process what's stashed away in the crate.

A body--it's actually a body?! I just being silly before, I didn't actually expect it to be a corpse packed away into this godforsaken crate! What has drunken me gotten sober me into?!

…Okay... After a good while of pacing around and nearly hyperventilating--not even wanting to so much as glance at the crate--I finally calm myself down just enough to dare to sneak another peak. Just to be sure. Because, yes, it LOOKED like a person, but...

Each time I muster up the courage to look at it...just a little more...I realise I may have overreacted. Just a tiny bit.

A small body is indeed nestled upright within the crate's packaging beads. But it's not dead. Nor is it alive. Or ever was, for that matter.

Petite in stature, with a head of short, snowy white hair and equally pale skin, it's something humanoid in shape. And with the very, VERY slight curve of its chest, I can most likely assume it's meant to be modelled after a girl.

These aspects are incredibly well-crafted, to the point anyone might mistake it for a human at first glance. Hence my initial shock. But the more I take in its tiny frame, devoid of any and all clothing, the more clear it is to me that this isn't an actual person.

There's visibly ball-jointed limbs for one. That's the biggest giveaway. Akin to a poseable doll. And despite how accurately its overall body is modelled after a girl, there's a clear lack of...ahem...'detail' in several key areas, making it more like an oversized doll than anything too human.

But why on earth did I buy something like this? I wish I could remember! How much did it cost, too? Surely a doll THIS size must have left a pretty nasty hole in my bank account... Maybe if I keep it packaged up, and put the lid on, I can try and return to...wherever I got it from? Because what on earth am I supposed to do with a doll? Especially when it's lacking such vital parts!

...Just when I contemplate on doing this, the impossible happens.

The doll stirs. Yet more styrofoam cascades off of its petite form as its visibly jointedlimbs begin to twitch. I stagger away in a panic, back flat against the wall behind me as I realise the very thing I'm terrified of is blocking the way out now. Oh, god, why didn't I move the crate further away from the front door before I started poking at it?!

W-why is it moving? Did I activate some kind of switch on it by mistake? And it's not just 'moving', its motions are carried with such human-like fluidity and grace as it reaches out to clutch at the sides of its resting place before pulling itself out with yet more styrofoam raining down around it. I want to scream, but all I can do is let out a few panicked squeaks as my voice fails me. This is something out of a horror movie, surely. A sick practical joke!

And with one last push, the doll manages to fully escape the crate. It staggers towards me on uneven legs before dropping to its knees in a rather sorry display, like a newborn faun attempting to find its footing. Or a broken-down automaton seeking out its next victim.

Snow white hair draped over its face and its head snapping up with a creak of its stiff, unused joints, it gazes at me. I stare back, heart just about ready to burst from my chest.

It's...it's looking at me. The doll...recognises my presence. This is crazy!

And as if that wasn't wild enough...its glossy, perfectly crafted blue lips part. It takes in something almost resembling a breath...before it begins to speak; a delicate, whispery voice so frail and fragile I have to truly strain my ears to hear it.

"...Greetings. Are you my new master?"

--

And that's how my life with my new doll...companion began. Because calling her a servant just didn't feel right, despite her insistence on being one.

I'm still not entirely sure of her origins--both where she came from, and how I was even able to buy her in the first place--and she isn't entirely aware either, with her mind essentially being a clean slate beyond the knowledge that she was to serve the first person she laid eyes upon.

After the initial shock and panic of unboxing her, the following days weren't any easier as I adjusted to her presence. More than once did I awake with a start to find her looming over me in the dead of night, asking if I required anything. Boundaries were quick to be set after that, where I designated her own little living space to her, even if she insisted all she needed was a corner to stand at come the night. I wasn't going to have it. I'd treat her like an actual person whether she liked it or not!

But that was just the first few, rough days of adjusting to a doll in my life. One who was incredibly eager to serve--as if it was her sole existence to do so. And I guess...initially it was.

She could cook. She could clean. She could even offer to bathe ME--which I flat-out refused, even if she did try to work her way into the bathroom whilst I was showering from time to time, as if her actual purpose in life was to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

Over time, though--and with a LOT of pushing back against her more servile habits--she did begin to chill. Which is funny, too, because she's quite the cold little thing to begin with. And I mean that in both of terms of personality AND her actual body temperature. Indeed--for reasons neither of us can fathom, she seems to exude something of a gentle chill across her petite frame. Nothing too numbing or uncomfortable to be in the presence of...but still odd all the same. But it's made for a convenient, instant icepack in the form of her hand on my head when I come down with a headache or fever.

My constant insistence that she should think for herself more and not just live to serve me slowly, but surely got through to her--culminating in where we are now, on an especially hot summer's day.

--

"A 'date'...?" she asks with that characteristic tilt of her head that I've come to adore over the months we've been together. I'm not even sure she's aware she's doing it--and it's one old habit of hers I've never felt the need to speak out on.

"Yeah. You always do so much for me, so I just wanted today to be your day, you know? One where you can enjoy yourself, and not have to worry about any kind of work, or responsibilities."

"I am not entirely sure if--..."

She makes to object like she always does when I propose something outside of her more servile comfort level, but the stern look I give her quiets her right away, Which...I guess could be seen as a power dynamic still...? But I'm doing it with her best intentions at heart!

Resigning herself to her fate, she bobs her head in the faintest of nods.

"Very well. If that is what master--...if that is what you wish, I shall accept this proposal."

"Sheesh... Is the idea of going out on a date with me THAT unappealing?"

"Ah... That is not what I intended for, I apologise if I caused any upset... I just... It is..."

She flounders on the spot for what to say at the realisation she's offended me, but I'm quick to soften my expression as I ruffle her soft, snowy white locks with a chuckle.

"Relax. I'm just messing with you. But seriously--I do wish you'd decide things for yourself, and not based on what you think someone else wants. I know I sound like a broken record here, but..." I trail off with a sigh, fingers still gently combing through her hair. For a supposedly artificial being, her hair so silky to the touch. Almost addicting in a way, to the point I've lost minutes of my life at a time just petting her like a cat.

"Understood. If that is what you wish, I shall strive to improve on that front."

...She still doesn't get what I'm trying to say, does she? Oh well. One day, I'll get through to her, I'm sure!

...And so, a date with 'Hood' begins!

Ah, right, I ended up giving her that nickname pretty early on, based on the almost unusual fondness she had with wearing my hoodies, as if she had some kind of affinity with them. At first, I'd just thrown the first clothes I could find on her back when I first unboxed her, just because I felt awkward talking with a doll devoid of clothes...but then even when she was at her most servile, she became oddly resistant to wanting to wear anything else when I offered to buy her clothes more suited for a girl than my baggy old hand-me-downs.

I guess she feels most comfortable when she has a hood on? It was one of the first things she'd decided on her own, so I never ended up challenging it, and even ended up meeting her halfway down the line when I bought her clothes more suited for her petite frame, with the sleeveless hoodie she wears now as we head out into town.

When I first brought her out with me in the past, I was kind of nervous, given she very clearly isn't human with such visible joints. But apparently in this day and age, people sort of just accept someone out and about like Hood without batting an eye. I guess she still looks human enough at a passing glance. And maybe they assume the joints on display are just artificial limbs and it would be rude to stare for too much longer? Either way, it works out for both of us, since I get to avoid the unwanted attention thrown our way, and Hood gets to remain by my side, as she often protests if I want to go anywhere without her. She insists she should always be by my side no matter what.

But today is different. We aren't going out for my sake. We're going out for hers. And I want to make this a day she can look back on fondly. One that lets her relax and learn to enjoy life, and learn that there's more to her existence than simply serving other people. I'll drill that into her sometimes ditzy, hollow skull even if it kills me!

"...You seem very fired up today..." Hood comments beside me as I had inadvertently clenched my hands into fists that I had thrust up into the sky for good measure. Letting my hands drop back to my side, I turn back to her with an awkward grin. At this point we're standing awkwardly in the middle of a busy street as people and cars alike stream around us.

"A-ahaha... Sorry. I got a little carried away. But, I guess I just want to make sure today is special for you!"

She tilts her head again, and draws a jointed finger to her glossy lips for good measure. "So you say. But what exactly does a 'date' entail? I cannot say I have much experience with them."

"Well, uhm...ah... Ahaha..." I rub the back of my head as another awkward noise escapes me. It's not like I have much experience with them either. But I can't let HER know that. I'm supposed to be her all-knowing master! Or--wait, no. I'm NOT her master, I'm just--gahh...

"...You do not know, do you?" Hood says with her emotionless, whispery voice somehow carrying a certain scathing edge to it. Or that might just be my imagination. I wave my hands at her in a panic.

"N-no! I do! I do! We'll do everything! We'll go to the movies! And then the aquarium! And then the park!"

...That's about the extent of my knowledge of dates, taken from movies and cheesy romance anime. It's good enough, right? And then I can wing it from there, depending on what catches our fancy. Maybe if I'm lucky, Hood will even see something she herself wants to do, rather than just being dragged along with me!

"Oh...right! A-and to really make this a proper date, we need to..."

Taking in a deep breath, I reach out and take hold of one of Hood's hands, interlacing her ball-jointed fingers with mine. She makes no effort to resist and reflexively tightens her dainty digits around my far sweater fingers.

It was meant to be a casual, nonchalant gesture to kick things off...but now that I'm holding her hand like this and realising just how delicate it really is, I can't help but get flustered.

In all the time she's been living with me, I've never really done much more with her than ruffle her hair. I didn't expect her artificial skin to feel so...soft. So...life-like. Does the rest of her body feel like this, too? My imagination can't help but run wild as my heart begins to race and I stand there like an idiot, my fingers entwined with hers and my mouth ajar as I stare at her.

"...Master?" she says after a good few minutes of letting me simply...stare, a hint of worry in her voice. You know she's concerned when she forgets not to call me 'master'. "Are you well? You have been motionless for quite some time."

"G-guh? I'm...ahaha...I'm fine. Let's go!" Shaking free of my stupor, I laugh it off as best I can before leading us farther down the street. All while I continue to hold her hand as she follows along without question. At times like these I'm grateful for the icy chill she exudes, mingling together with the softness of her palm in just the right way to help me cool my mind.

All the same, though... As we march along towards our first destination on this grand 'date', I can't help but wonder--is it right to be feeling this way about a doll? Or is it worse to even think of her differently than a normal person? Isn't that what I've been trying to drill in her spacey head, after all?

Ahh... I thought I had everything figured out...but now all my carefully laid out thoughts are in complete disarray, and are only getting more disjointed the longer I hold onto her small hand. How DO I feel about her, anyway? Would it be a clear abuse of power to want to pursue something truly romantic with her? Would she even allow it, and reciprocate my feelings, or would she simply go along with my whims as it's her 'duty' to do so?

...It's today that I hope to get to the bottom of this, and have a true breakthrough with her. Maybe I'll end up learning more about myself in the process, too...

--

First up on our grand date tour is the movies, simply by virtue of the theater being the closest. We spend a good while looking at the posters advertising what's currently airing along the outside wall. And I was sure I'd have to end up choosing something for us, which would probably be some kind of cheesy romantic comedy just because I'd assume that's what you pick for dates, but...

"…"

Hood's hidden gaze fixes onto one poster in particular. I join her in looking over it...and the colour drains from my face as I do.

"U-uh... You want to see that one...?"

I glance back at her just to be sure. She continues to stare at the poster in question, glossy lips parting in fascination. It takes her a little while to realise I'm speaking to her before she tilts her head back up at me.

"...I suppose it does appeal to me in some small way, for reasons I cannot truly comprehend... Why do you ask? Is it not something you yourself wish to see? If that is the case--..."

"A-ah! No, no! This one's fine! If it's something you're interested in, I don't mind!"

Because, again, just like the hoodies she likes to wear...if this is something she herself has decided on...I want to encourage that kind of free thinking. However...strange it might be. And definitely unsuited for a date. But it's not like this was a conventional outing to begin with, was it?

With the movie decided on, we go inside, pay for our tickets and head to the designated screen room. No other couples in sight. Which, is to be expected, given the, uh, content of the movie and all... But maybe it won't be as bad as the poster made it out to be? It's these optimistic thoughts put a strained smile on my face as I sit with Hood and share some popcorn with her.

…

I was right. The movie wasn't as bad as the poster implied.

It was far, far worse.

Flattened back against my seat and clutching Hood's hand for dear life, I watch on pale-faced and more than a little queasy as all manner of grisly scenes unfold on the giant screen that stretches before me. People are being torn apart by the ravenous undead. Screams fill the air. Blood stains the ground. Entrails are strewn about like confetti. What little popcorn I'd managed to eat before the movie started now threatens to come back out with each new death I witness.

And Hood? Sweet, innocent, spacey little Hood whom I've never witnessed have a violent bone in her entire, artificial, doll-like body?

"Ah... Fascinating..." she says, utterly transfixed by the grisly, zombie-laden affair taking place on the big screen. It's hard to make out her eyes under both the veil of her hair and hoodie alike, but I'm pretty sure she hasn't even so much as blinked since the movie began.

She rarely ever expressed interest in anything I watched at home. Why is it ZOMBIES that suddenly grabs her attention?! Both zombies, and the excessive, brutal gore that's so severe I feel like it might actually come splatting out from the screen and land on us with how much of it there is right now.

…

Two hours of non-stop gore later, we emerge from the theater. I think Hood actually has something of a spring in her step. Whereas I...

"U-urkk..."

A hand to the wall out on the street, I just about manage to keep the popcorn from coming back up. The things I witnessed on that screen... I didn't even think it was legal to show such gratuitous violence!

Taking in deep breaths and trying not to let TOO many tears stream down my face, I feel a calming, cool hand pat my back.

"...Master, are you well? Was the movie not to your liking...?" Hood asks with just a touch of worry. Still keeping one hand fixed to the wall, I wave her concerns off with a strained, pale-faced smile.

"Huh? Oh...n-no...I loved it. LOVED it. Especially the part where the person got torn apart four ways at once by all those zombies!" Oh, god, why did I remind myself of that scene. The sounds those limbs made...

Hood nods along with me. "Ah. Yes. I was particularly fond of that scene as well. As was the extended shot of the horde descending upon a town as it slept, unaware of the horrors that awaited them. I had no idea that visual entertainment could be so...exhilarating." While I can't see her eyes, I'm sure they're sparkling right now.

...Should I be worried about having awakened something inside this placid doll? Or...maybe it was lying dormant in her all along. Her origins are pretty much shrouded in mystery after all...

--

With the first part of our date a, uh...a success(?), I take Hood to the next place I randomly blurted out when prompted previously.

An aquarium. It's my hope that cute little fishes, seals and other such attractions will help push out the images of grisly zombies still seared into the deepest reaches of my poor brain. Plus, I'm pretty curious how Hood will react.

"I see... So we are to observe the captive fishes?" she asks rather bluntly as we head inside the establishment. An overarching tunnel of glass with all manner of colourful sealife swims by playfully overhead, causing the doll to have to crane her head to an unnatural degree to keep sight of it all.

"Well... If you put it like that, you make me feel bad for the little guys..." I reply as I crane my head too to keep track of some tropical fishes. I can't tilt my head nearly as much as her, though. I'd break my neck! Since her head is on a ball joint, I wonder if she can swivel it around 360 degrees like an owl...?

"Ah. Apologies. I did not mean to view them in such a negative light. They certainly seem lively at any rate. I had no idea the world contained such wonders."

We stop at an especially large tank where seals can dive and play.

"You're not exactly wrong, though. They ARE technically captive...but on the other hand...a lot of them are probably safer here, and better fed than if they were taking their chances out in the wild, at the cost of their freedom." I muse this fact aloud as a seal dives down right before us and lazily drifts from side to side. Hood can't help but marvel at such a sight close up as her lips part in that dazzling way. Her head even sways in time with the seal's movements, putting a smile on my face.

...The seal then squishes its face right up against the glass in front of Hood.

"Oh, I think he likes you," I say playfully, my grin only getting wider.

Hood tilts her head up at me before returning her gaze to the seal. "...He does?" She places a jointed hand on the glass as if to try and touch its smushed up face that has compressed against the surface in such a ridiculous way. "...Hello, aquatic creature. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I inquire as to your name?"

...The seal smushes its face even more against the glass and lets out some kind of garbled noise. And Hood nods. Can...can they actually understand each other...? Either way, I'm glad she made a new friend.

…

Things continue like this as we go from tank to tank. And...of course, she ends up being the most fascinated by the shark display, watching with great interest as divers feed the terrifying beasts chunks of meat.

"...Do you believe there is ever a time where the offering is not enough, and the sharks then go for those feeding them?" she asks innocently. Almost hopefully as we watch on, prompting more than a few other onlookers to glance back at her in shock.

This girl... I resist the urge to draw my hand over my face. I shouldn't even be surprised at this point, should I...?

After that, I limit our stops in the aquarium to far more innocent exhibits. For the safety of all. And like that, the second part of our date draws to its conclusion.

In spite of a few, uh...grisly revelations...I have to say that it's going well. Hood has remained as expressionless as ever, of course, because I don't think anything could change that part of her, but I've definitely noticed a change in her demeanour all the same. Very gradually has she stopped simply following along with what I want, and has been growing more vocal in pursuing what she herself wants to see and do at each stop. And it's been heart-warming to see.

And I just hope that this carries forward in our day-to-day interactions, too. Where she'll no longer view herself as a servile doll that I ordered on a drunken whim. But rather, as an important member of our household. As an equal. As my friend. And...well...maybe even more...if this date continues on its current trajectory.

--

Midday. The sun is at its highest and most brightest point now as we find ourselves in a scenic park. Nothing too fancy--just a simple stretch of greenery with a winding path that gives way to a few sights such as a pond and some scattered benches. After all of the excitement of the last two stops, it makes for quite a nice change of pace to simply unwind and decompress, walking together as we ponder what might lie ahead for us.

But...man is it hot today.

Tugging at my damp shirt, I fan myself with my free hand as the heat beats down on me. It's times like these where I wish I had a built-in cooling system like--...

"H-huh...? Wait--Hood, are you sweating, too?!"

I gawk at the hooded girl beside me. I assumed, given her icy nature, that the warm weather wouldn't faze her in the slightest...but sure enough, I see tantalising beads of perspiration glistening against her, lending an especially enticing sheen to her pale frame. Even going as far as to make her white undershirt as damp as my own with just a hint of her slight chest visible beyond the see-through fabric.

She tilts her head at my bewilderment and lets out a steamy breath as a daring bead of 'sweat' races down the very slight suggestion of cleavage she bears.

"Ah? Sweat? You are mistaken. It is simply...the result of something extremely hot meeting against something extremely cold."

I blink. "You mean condensation...? Like...like a can of soda or something?"

She thinks on this for a moment before nodding. "I suppose so, if you wish to look at it that way, yes. Though I can see how it may appear to be sweat from an initial glance." She looks down at herself. I follow her gaze in turn. More and more of this faux-sweat lays claim to her petite figure as her chest heaves. Damp locks of white stick to her face, framing it in a more suggestive light than I've ever seen before--enough to stir up rather intense feelings inside me as my heart hammers in my ears and heat rushes to places it really shouldn't be in the middle of a cute and fluffy date. And the way she's picking at her soaked shirt now and giving an even greater glimpse down said top really isn't helping matters.

"H-how about we stop for a drink then, and cool down? Seems like we're both kinda getting beaten down by the sun in our own ways, huh?" I'm quick to suggest as I wrench my eyes from her 'sweaty' body, pointing towards the nearest convenient vending machine just a few steps away.

Because while you wouldn't expect it from a doll, Hood can indeed consume things, just like a human. Apparently this is what she converts into energy that sustains some kind of 'core' within her, that powers her indefinitely, but honestly the technical aspects of it go over my head entirely. All I know is, she has to eat and drink just like anyone else if she wants to remain 'alive'. But for the most part, she's kept her diet to a very modest intake, only drinking water and eating the bare minimum as to not impose on me, despite my insistence that she can have more.

Maybe today, since she's deciding more and more for herself, that can change, though? At least that's my hope as the pair of us, drenched as we are, reach the large vending machine.

Rummaging in my pockets for spare change, I try to pose the question to her as casually as I can. "What are you feeling like, Hood?"

"Ah... There are...many choices..." Up and down, the entirety of her head moves as she takes in the full range of drinks on display. She falls silent, scanning the choices, over and over. And as the minutes tick by, I begin to wonder if I've maybe given her TOO much to decide over... I didn't expect choosing a drink to be such a dilemma... I think I can actually hear gears grinding away in that spacey head of hers. If she wasn't at risk of overheating before, she definitely is now!

"Uh... I-I mean, you can just pick whatever stands out. Don't think too hard on it!"

"Very well. This one, then," she says, pointing a jointed finger at one of the flashing buttons. "A drink endorsed by a doctor should surely come with health benefits, yes?"

"Uhh... Sure. Yeah! Good choice! I'll get the same!"

Drinks purchased, we waste no time in downing their sweet, ice cold contents. Ahh... Soda really does taste better on a hot summer's day, doesn't it? It ascends from an already good treat, to holy nectar status. I can't get enough, practically draining the bottle dry in a matter of seconds.

As for Hood...

After battling with the cap of the bottle--a fight the bottle almost won--she gives the carbonated drink a curious sniff. Recoiling slightly from the unexpected fizz, she tentatively fixes the bottle to her plush, icy lips, and then...

"Mff...mmnn...mghh..."

She takes a small sip. And then a slightly larger one. And before long, she's practically up-ending the bottle as she guzzles the Dr. Poppy down in the most animated manner I've seen from her since I first unboxed her all those weeks ago.

I watch on in a daze, enraptured by the sight of those luscious lips of hers wrapping in around the head of the bottle so fervently. Her throat visibly contracts with every gulp. Dribbles of drool and soda alike occasionally escape from the corners of her mouth, streaming down her face and adding to the slick mess already glistening across her porcelain skin. Even the slender fingers gripping the bottle seem to be gently squeezing and stroking it in a suggest manner with each gulp, as if she thinks she can coax just that little bit more of the soda out if she works it over.

...

 If I was aroused by the sight of her simply being slick with 'sweat' as she was before, the added bonus of her practically cramming this bottle down her throat now has made the tightness of my pants almost unbearable. Because if she can work a bottle over this sensually, my imagination can only wander at what else she'd be happy to suckle and slurp away at--...

I shake my head free of such impure thoughts. Which...is easier said than done, given gratuitous suckling is accompanied by all manner of muffled noises of contentment, practically bordering on moans. Even after she's finished gulping down the last of the good doctor's drink, she still continues to work the bottle for a while after, just to be sure no errant drops have escaped her.

The drink finally leaves her lips with one last messy pop. Almost reluctantly so. Strands of icy drool string out between her mouth and the bottle's tip, and it's a miracle my pants haven't torn at the seams yet. Is she doing this on purpose?!

"...Ah..."

She dabs at the stickiness glistening across her mouth now that remains hanging open in something of a post Dr. Poppy coma. After cooling myself down with a steamy exhale, I finally step in with a flustered smile.

"That good, huh?" I say, a crack in my voice and my cheeks no doubt blazing red right now.

It takes her a good moment to register my words before she nods my way, cradling the empty bottle longingly to her chest.

"...It was...invigorating. The sweetness flowing down my throat... The tingling... That cold, refreshing feeling... Ah... I could not stop myself once I started. Forgive me for disgracing myself in such an unsightly way, master." She bows deeply, prompting me to frantically wave her back into a standing position.

"A-ahh--it's fine, it's fine! I'm glad we found something you enjoy so much! No need to apologise, really! This is a good thing, really!"

"If you insist..." She straightens back up, bottle firmly in hand. Already, I can see her gaze wandering back to the machine. Is this the beginning of a new addiction...? Well, it's not like all this sugar will be bad for a doll, right? At least...as far as I know, she can't gain weight. Ugh. Now I'm envious. Dolls have it all, don't they?

...Whew. I think I came out of this sweatier than BEFORE we arrived at the vending machine. So much for cooling down...

--

The day draws to a close after perhaps one of the most eventful times of either of our lives. The bright, cheery summer sun gives way to a slightly cooler evening as the pair of us walk back home, hand in hand.

After, er, the vending machine 'incident', I decided to take us for an incredibly romantic dinner at the nearest fast food joint. Which, you know, isn't the classiest choice, I'll admit...but luckily Hood isn't too fussy about these things. Of which my poor wallet is grateful.

Once more, I put her on the spot to choose something from the menu, just to try and continue my push for her to be more independent, and after a good amount of prodding--and pressure from the line building behind us--she ended up going with a burger and fries. Of which she loved every bite of. And ate just as feverishly, and sensually, as she drank the Dr. Poppy.

I swear...this girl must have some very strange 'programming' in her hollow head to make even the act of eating fries get me all hot and bothered. Be it the way she slides them between her plump lips, or suckles the grease from her fingers after. Halfway through the meal I was sure my 'excitement' was going to ping right up against the underside of the table!

But my pants survived. We finished our dinner without incident. And now at long last, we head for home through empty, moonlit streets.

"...Thank you for everything today," Hood says quietly as we continue along. It's so rare for her to speak unprompted that I give something of a start at the sound before turning my head. "I did not know the world was full of so many wonders. Be it the moving pictures, the aquatic creatures...or even...ah...the doctor's recommend beverage...ah..."

...She spaces out at that last one and I have to snap my fingers to bring her back.

"Apologies. Where was I? Ah, yes... Thank you, master. For you have shown me, if only for a day, a life I am truthfully not sure I deserve as the servant that I am. Such kindness should not be wasted on one whose life is as unimportant as mine, even as much as I did appreciate it."

"Hood..."

I squeeze her hand. Tight. I'm not angry that she's still saying these things after everything we've done today. I'm just...sad. For her sake. That she still believes all of that.

"I don't know what kind of life you had, if any, before you ended up at my doorstep on that fateful day... But those days of servitude are over. I don't want you to be with me just because you think you have to. I want you to be with me, because it's what YOU want. That's...that's what this date was all about, you know? To show you that you DO have the power to make your own decisions. And that your life can be better for it. Nothing bad has happened every time you've made a choice, right? In fact, it seems like each time you did, you enjoyed yourself, more and more! I don't want this to just be a one-time thing, either. From this day on, I want you to decide everything for yourself. No more 'master' and 'servant'. Just us. Living together as equals."

We come to a stop under a street light. She untangles her fingers from mine and turns to face me. I feel my heart galloping away all the while. Like always, it's impossible to make out how she feels on that icy, expressionless mask of a face...so I wait with bated breath on her response. Any time I've tried to bring this up to her before, she's always flat-out rejected me and continued to serve as she's done since I first unboxed her...but today...tonight...is different. I can feel it in the air. Something in her has changed. For the better.

"I see. I...I have a rather selfish request, then, if you will permit it," she asks, almost bashfully so in that sweet, whispery voice of hers as she struggles to meet my eyes.

I lean in instinctively to better hear her. "Anything," I reply, my own voice just as low and whispery now as the amber light above illuminates us like a spotlight--our own private little play unfolding between us.

Her glossy blue lips part. She takes in a shaky breath. Then she looks right at me.

"I would like...to participate in a kiss then; to be held in your arms, even if someone as lowly as myself does not deserve such--m-mmphhh?!"

I grant her wish immediately. Without hesitation. I take her tiny form into my arms and practically LIFT her up off of the ground as my lips meet hers in what was intended to be a simple kiss, but quickly escalates into something far more passionate as Hood soon recovers from her initial shock and reciprocates my affection tenfold.

Tongues entwine in a messy, heartful dance. All of the emotions that had been building between us, but sealed off by an icy, nigh impenetrable wall come flooding out at once as our combined noises of passion dominate the cool evening air.

To hear those words from her. To know that she herself desires to be with me on more than a contractual level. I'm so overjoyed that tears actually flow down my face as we continue to kiss, streaming together with the saliva that coats our features. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my spur of the moment idea for a date could lead to somewhere so wonderful.

I don't remember how long we remained like this. Even long after the kiss ended, we remained in one another's arms, lit by the amber glow of the lamp above us, frozen in time as we are. Perhaps we were afraid that if we were to let go, it would all crumble away? That the dream would shatter, and we would be back to our bleak, isolated existences. But Hood is here. She's real. That I know for a fact as I squeeze her tiny body even tighter, relishing icy chill she exudes. Relishing her surprising softness for one supposedly artificial in design.

But that just proves it even more, doesn't it? That there's even fewer differences between us than she thinks--and that she's entitled to a life just like any human. That she isn't just...just a thing built to serve. And as long as I live, I'll make sure she remembers that. That she is her own person.

...While I never did figure out the mystery of exactly how or why my drunken self ended up ordering Hood...for once in my life, I'm grateful for that silly little mistake. For it ended up being one of the best decisions of my life. And hopefully Hood's too.

...I just have to...maybe...talk with her about this newfound obsession she has with horror movies. Because a man has a limit as to how many gore flicks he can see in one night.

Ahh... The things one does for love...