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Your workshop is barely illuminated by a lone fading lightbulb, dim light filling the room with eerie shadows. The air is dry and warm, dust visibly stirred with every movement. It's littered with what you'd expect from a workshop - tools. Hammers. Wood. Nails. And some things you wouldn't. Tomes. Glass vials containing elixirs with a rainbow's range of color. A skull. Various bones, in various places. Mad, arcane sketches on the walls. A pile of broken watches.

 

You move through the familiar workspace easily, and gracefully, the lack of light posing no problem for you. You've walked these floors enough to know where you can step, and where you can't. Your knowledge of it is subconscious, at this point. You have little doubt that you could go blind and still be able to find every single tool, every switch, every tome. The room is large. Piles of machinery, furniture, and scattered desks create a badly lit maze for you to traverse. Your goal, at the very end. You end up travelling in something of an S shape before you finally manage to reach your goal. Your steps grow more and more hurried and impatient as you reach the end of your very short journey. She is waiting for you.

 

Maybe. You don't really know. Your inability to peek into her mind, to see if it even works anymore... is frustrating. Is her clock still ticking? Or has it stopped altogether? You really, really wish you knew. The hands no longer tell the time, for certain. But you lack the tools to see if all the circuitry's still there. Maybe that's not such a good metaphor. Whatever. You come to a stop in front of a figure in a corner of the room, nearby a few desks covered in potions and tomes. It's too dark to make out any of her features, but you know them by heart. You fumble around for a minute, trying to catch hold of a dangling light-switch. Finding it and turning it on, a few ultra-bright lights come on, painting the entire workshop with several shades of visible.

 

Your doll. The first successful one. Hopefully the first of many. Five foot five. Blonde hair, cut short. Green eyes - a shame they're unnervingly unblinking - button nose, full lips. Some freckles on fair white skin. She's young and feminine. Not too feminine - not a succubus, but not quite a tomboy either. Somewhere deliciously in between. She stands there, thin frame completely naked in the harsh artificial light, completely motionless save for the mechanical breathing. In and out. In... and out. The last two or three couldn't maintain background functions, and died. Every breath she takes is a testament to your absolute genius. You stand there for a minute, taking her in. She makes you feel powerful.

 

You reach your hand out, rubbing two fingerss gently against one of her small, baseball-sized tits. Her skin is soft, warm to the touch. Can she even feel your touches? Is she alive in there? You really wish you knew. You glide your hand down her belly, circling around her cute belly button, stopping just short of her crotch. Perfectly shaved. She took care of herself, for sure.

 

You hesitate, withdraw your hand for a few seconds. The nervousness annoys you, and you move your hand back. You trace your fingers down your doll's skin, down to her petite netherlips. You trace your fingers against them, feel their texture against your fingertips. You feel your cock growing erect in your pants. With one slow movement, you plunge two fingers into her pussy. Warm, wet. It's not unfamiliar. Your previous dolls, short lived or not, were able to prove themselves somewhat useful in that regard. You withdraw your two fingers, moving them up to your lips and sucking off her juices. A dull flavor. Always pleasant, but dull. A bit sweet this time? Odd. You look up at her, into her eyes. They're lifeless, unblinking. Empty. Just as well. Maybe there's a personality in there. Maybe not. Either way, you have no use for it. With your left hand, you tuck some stray strands of golden hair behind her eyes, your other returning to her pussy, inserting a few probing fingers. You pull them out and drag them to her etherlips. Can she taste this? It doesn't matter. You reach your head forward and pull hers towards yours, licking her wetness off her lips. Your dick is straining against your pants now. You unbuckle them, and let it stand proud against the warm, dusty air. You wish you could come up with a way to easily get that mouth open.

 

It's a nice mouth.

 

With one step forward, you take hold of her motionless body, wrapping your arms around her and pressing her soft breasts against your chest. Your dick stands in between her legs, the top of it pressing ever-so-slightly into her pussy, parting the lips and tasting the wetness therein. You pull your hips back. Slowly. Gently. Pressing your cock into her cunt, letting it give your dick a prolonged kiss. Then slide them forwards again, her wetness covering the top of your cock. She's beautiful, you think, as you give her lips another long lick. Beautiful. Yours.  The contact between her warm snatch and your cock sends shivers through its length. Slow shivers of ecstasy. The slow rubbing in-and-of itself isn't much to get you off, though. Unfortunately. You draw back, taking your thick shaft in your hands, gently kissing her cunt with its head. You give it a few experimental strokes, slow and easy. You hesitate for a moment. Not that you haven't done this before. Just... this one feels... special.

 

You let go of her, trace her breasts one more time. Your cock throbs, begging for attention. You move your hand to her backside, taking a few grabs at her plump ass, tracing her backdoor with your finger. Cute. She's cute. Cute enough to fuck, certainly. And you will. She's yours to play with, after all. And what would a grown man do with a doll? You lift her by the underside of her ass, pull her legs up a bit so they don't bump against the floor. Spread them a bit too. Then with another arm on her waist, you lower her onto your cock. She's wet, as usual. Your shaft throbs as the cunt descends all around it, warm walls closing around it and massaging your pulsing member. You look into her eyes. Dead eyes. Doll eyes. Unblinking. You should fix that. But where to stop?

 

Your train of thought is broken as you let her descend onto your erect dick once more. It's increasingly harder to think as the dull pulses of pleasure grow stronger and thicker. You take a strong hold on her hips, pulling her up, then letting her fall. Up, then down. Up, then down. As it continues you stop letting her slide onto your cock and instead slam her onto it, a sex-doll for your every desire. A sandbox of deviancy and exploration... and... and yours. You manage that thought. A masterpiece. One of many! The thought makes you feel strong. You feel powerful. If you can take any girl off the street and turn her into your doll. What can't you do? What won't you do? She slams down against your pants. Hard. Your balls fling against your briefs with every impact. The once-warm air burns hot around you, sweat running off the both of you. Her doll eyes stare at you. Perfect, but not enough. You groan. A slow, stretched groaning. Your human doll...

 

You feel your orgasm all but here. Your cock twitches powerfully, the wet warmth having driven it to the edge. Past the edge. You pull her off your cock until all but the head feels the relatively cool air. Your dick twitches. Twitches, and then with one powerful pulse, unleashes the first load into her cunt. You moan as line after line of cum sprays into her pussy, painting the walls with your seed. You let her go again, letting her slide down your dick and hilt herself once more, the friction sending spasmic pulses of pleasure through your system. Holding her with one arm, you take the chance to grope her, running your hand down her elegant jaw to her discreet chin, to her soft arms, to her cute, small breasts. To her bellybutton... She's gorgeous...

 

Your shaft continuously pumps semen into her twat, whiteness running down it and dripping on the floor, a small puddle forming. You ride out the rest of your orgasm, twitching your hips ever so slightly, each centimeter of movement sending new pulses of pleasure through your hypersensitive cock. Finally, you near run dry, and pull out, letting your cum slowly push out of your dick. You take hold of her legs, pushing them back into a standing position before setting her back on the ground. One would barely realize anything had happened. If not for the sweat, and the cum dripping out of her cunt. It's a nice look. You take your soaking cock in one hand and milk out one last blob of cum, scooping it up with a finger and lifting it up to her lips, you smear it onto her mouth, a memento of this moment.

 

You dry your dick off, rubbing off her juices and what little cum your over-eager dick can muster on her leg before putting your deflating tool away. You gaze upon your doll. Gorgeous, as always. In her appearance, yes. Obviously. But more importantly, in her condition. Your inanimate fucktoy. Able to do nothing. Able to think nothing? Probably. Just standing, breathing. Maybe sitting, if you position her like that. You could fill a dollhouse with these girls. But all inanimate? Boring. But a sentient doll? Self-contradictory. Maybe if you program a new personality, over the old? A few basic behaviors. Enough to move when you tell her to.

 

So many decisions to make. You turn to one of your desks, and open a large book. One of your journals. This one, primarily on your work with your dolls. Sometimes just ramblings. You don't really care where you write, sometimes. It doesn't really matter. Does it? No.