Chapter 24
In horror movies, there's often a scene where someone sneaks into an empty department store at midnight. One of the things that amps up the terror is the mannequins. Walking past them in the shadows gives you this creepy, uneasy feeling. But the sight before my eyes right now was on a whole other level.
The first reason was that these dolls lined up in rows looked inhumanly human—way more lifelike than any mannequin. The second was that most of them had scarves or masks covering their faces, which made the whole thing even more bizarre. At first, I was just awestruck by their beautiful forms, but stepping right into the middle of them sent a chill crawling up my spine.
"Lights on, lights! This is creepier than I expected."
The ceiling lights flicked on immediately.
"That's better."
I didn't think to check that. Sorry.
"It's fine. Just caught me off guard a bit. It's a different kind of creepiness from dodging infected in the dark." A few goosebumps prickled my arms, but they faded quick as I took in the dolls' stunning designs up close.
"First time seeing this many dolls gathered like this. Aside from a little dust, they're spotless."
These are brand-new, untouched by human hands. If the dust bothers you, shall I have them shake it off?
I pictured it—beautiful dolls all shaking themselves clean at my command. It'd feel oddly erotic, more than just a human bossing around obedient machines.
"Nah, forget it. No need to touch them except the one I'm taking. Dust'll just build up again anyway."
I reached out and touched the face of the doll in front of me. It wore a mask like a dancer might, covering from the bridge of the nose down— a hallmark of first-gen models. Masks, veils, scarves, whatever—they all covered more than half the face. Arms and legs were wrapped tight in arm warmers or stockings too, limiting exposed skin to just a few spots.
Do first-gen dolls suit your tastes?
"Half right, half wrong."
As the original models, they couldn't help but fall short in functionality, tactile feel, flexibility, or realistic weight. Early to mid first-gen were limited to basic vaginal sex in fixed positions. Only the late first-gen, like the one that labor supervisor creep had, could handle more human-like service.
"Performance-wise, they're lacking, but as eye candy? Always fascinating."
First-gen were outdated, sure, but also the most fashionable. Time solved most early tech hurdles. Skeletons and programming? Throw enough manpower at it. Power sources were trickier, but workable—even if it meant a cable plugged into the back. Consumers were surprisingly forgiving on that front.
Skin was the real beast. First, material choice—tied to new inventions, not brute force. Early on, silicone was the best, but that telltale smell and texture? Unavoidable. No matter the sculpting, it hit the uncanny valley.
Second, durability. Not everyone was platonic, and even gentle use caused wear. Replacing skin constantly? Cost-prohibitive. So companies got clever: "fashion."
Ditch silicone for most of the body—use tough, durable plastic. High-end silicone only for impact-free zones. Face below the nose? Reinforced material, hidden by scarves or masks. Arms and legs in stockings or arm warmers, necks scarfed. Painted toenails peeking through stockings, fishnet gloves on hands. It minimized the "bundled up" feel while maximizing human illusion.
Hiding the artificial amplified the sexy. Brilliant marketing. First-gen skin exposure averaged under 10%, with endless costume variants. Cheap for their aesthetics, demand never died.
"Office lady, soldier, doctor, secretary, Arabian dancer, medieval noble, warrior... every type."
Mostly suits and casuals, but plenty of wild outfits too.
I doubt he kept them for actual use.
"VIPs who love being pampered probably used 'em as decor."
No matter how pretty, early models lacked function. Real tycoons didn't cuddle them. Still pricey, so mid-tier execs and doll shops stuck to first-gen.
"But this is what interests me."
I stepped up to a second-gen doll. Born from breakthrough materials beyond silicone, these showed lots of skin. No need to hide anymore.
"Almost human, huh?"
I caressed her white cheek, nose, then lips. Softer than any real woman I'd touched, full of life.
"Not warm, though."
Shall I power her up?
"No. Pretty, but not my type."
My finger slipped between her soft lips, brushing neat teeth.
"Clean."
The skin? Of course—no blemishes.
"Not the skin. The teeth."
Perfectly straight, blindingly white. Real people always have off-whites, gold fillings, crooked bites. But this? Flawless. Plump rosy lips, even teeth, flexible tongue—no moisture or bad breath needed. Just touching it got me hard.
You've been holding back a long time. Poor thing.
Chloro, monitoring me live, nailed it.
"Yeah, too long."
The tongue was squishy. Dry, yet so soft? I tugged it gently.
Schlick.
Human tongues max at 30cm, but you can barely pull yours past your lips. Dolls? Different story.
"Long."
Already brushing my chin.
This model's tongue is 42cm.
"That much?"
Average. Plenty longer ones exist—for services that need extra length.
Her tone had a naughty edge. I sniffed the extended tongue—no breath at all.
These haven't had fluids injected yet. Pre-filling hurts long-term storage.
"How long to inject?"
Saliva, and more.
One minute. Second-gen have super convenient structures.
"Oh!"
I toyed with the cute pink tongue, imagining it coiling around me like a snake. Letting go, it retracted slowly—kinda comical.
These are the only ones ready to activate right away. How about picking one?
Her voice brimmed with excitement.
"Yeah. Found the perfect one."
I stopped before a blonde with blue eyes, long lashes, and porcelain skin—a Northern European beauty. Fresh-faced like a girl just out of her teens, yet maturely alluring. The beauty of that cusp. She'd fit better carrying a basket of flowers and fruit through mountain valleys than strutting city streets.
A fairy stood before me.
Oh, she's adorable.
"Right? Wanna watch?"
Not watching. Experiencing.
"What?"
You know all these dolls lack software, right?
"What? Then they're duds. That's why they stashed 'em down here instead of upstairs."
No software? Just fancy mannequins.
Heehee! What are you saying? Don't you already have a loyal, superior me? Armed with far better service spirit and techniques than any human software.
The doll before me closed her eyes.
Tremble.
Like dreaming, her lids fluttered rapidly for seconds. Then they opened, blooming into a natural, warm smile. A hand reached out, caressing my cheek.
"First time facing each other like this. Let me greet you properly."
I stood there, dumbfounded, as she continued.
"It's Chloro, come down to bring you pleasure."
The doll's—no, Chloro's—smile was utterly lovable.