A New Toy

The limousine door opened with a sigh and she stepped out into the dazzling, diamond-studded night. Her eyes swept the crowd outside the hotel but she didn't deign to grace a single face with her attention. She was only checking that all faces were turned to her, and they were. In fact it seemed to her that every shining window in every two hundred-storey skyscraper was watching her too, and that was just as it should be.

Her gown, all but slipping free from her shoulders, seem to cling to her as if the cloth itself couldn't bear to part from her curves. It hung wide open, and beneath it her dress - shimmering, plunging, scandalous. The bellhop was drooling as he held the door open and she glided into the lobby.

The fabric of the dress was rough, and she would be damned if she was going to ruin a garment like this with a bra. Particularly when she worked so hard for a body like hers. So she revelled in the slight discomfort of the ridged golden fabric as it abrasively caressed the soft flesh of her breasts and the hardening pertness of her nipples.

Once inside the door it was the same - all eyes were on her. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and couldn't stop a smile edging into that scrupulously maintained aloofness. Her hair! What had that little man done with her hair? It was spectacular: a severely short cut around the sides and the back to fully show the divine arc of her neck and a huge golden wave rushing forwards and sweeping up into the air before her. And when she moved it bobbed and flowed like she was a force of nature.

She caught the eye of some humble brown-suited desk jockey, who seemed to be staring particularly boldly. He gazed, expressionless - what must he be thinking? How he would never touch anything like her? Never see anything like the glory of her naked?

She imagined his pathetic little paws reaching out and pushing up her million-dollar dress, his weak jaw trembling as he greedily ate up the sight of her panties (probably worth more than he made in a year) and then fumbled to pull them off her.

She reached the elevator and summoned up the sensation of his clammy fingers against her hips, pressing into her flesh as he clumsily stripped her. Oh, but she was getting turned on already! She could feel her skin starting to prickle, and her whole body feeling strangely lighter and heavier at the same time.

Could she really derive some pleasure from a man like that? In her head he was reverently dividing her perfect legs and descending, his tongue already lolling out, desperate for her taste, desperate to please her. Well, if he were willing to worship her enough, she supposed she could.

With a slight jump she realised that she had exited the silent, bullet-like elevator on the one hundred and eightieth floor without thinking, and was standing outside the door to her room.

She smiled and rested her hand on the cool, authentic wood (the sign of a truly upmarket hotel), savouring the thought of what was to come. Inside there was a beautiful toy for her to play with, and she was in just the right mood.

Her hand moved across to the lock panel and she pressed her palm against it, allowing the hotel to scan and check her identity. There was a faint chime and the door swung inwards.

Inside the toy was standing by the window, watching the few vehicles that were authorised to operate at this height swoop through the electric night. Silhouetted from behind he looked perfect: lean and muscular in a suit that fitted him to a tee. She licked her lips.

He hadn't noticed her enter, so she placed her hands on her hips pushing back the gown that was still clinging to her for dear life and stretching the already tight gold cloth of her dress across her hips so that it slid up even more. The hem cut across the top of her thighs now and she knew that when he turned he would be able to see just the faintest, maddening hint of the bottom of her panties between her lean, trim legs. She clicked her tongue very lightly.

He turned and his mouth dropped open.

"My god, it's... you." He was holding a glass, a cocktail in his right hand she saw now, and he was very handsome. Short, sandy hair and there was an innocence about him too, perhaps an eagerness to please? Perfect.

It was incredible what those white coats at Life Labs could do now; you would almost swear he was human.

"Of course it is, silly boy," she purred, and felt the fire rush through her as his eyes roved brazenly around her body. She finally shook off that troublesome gown and moved towards him, a vision of golden energy, glowing in the dim light that came only from a single table lamp and the city outside.

She hungrily studied his shape as she came closer. She could see his strength in the broad, flat slant of his shoulders; and he had power inside him too, she knew from the way he held his head back. But what about his prick? She was already longing to know. She would soon enough.

And his face was so open! He was like a fawn in the headlights she thought, it was all just so, so perfect. They said that these days Dolls could mimic human thought processes to an alarming degree; their reactions would be entirely lifelike. She felt her left hand clench into a fist involuntarily. It was all perfect.

Closer, she could smell him now. Soap and a little sweat and even less scent. The company had excelled themselves. She pretended to stretch her arms back behind her, and obediently his eyes shot to her breasts, pushed forwards, pressed, almost bulging against that tight gold barrier.

"Silly boy," she started, her voice playful and light, "what are you drinking? A martini?"

"Uh... yes, I just..."

Savagely she swung her left arm around and up from behind her back. Her stance changed to provide stability and she slapped the glass straight out of his hand. The liquid painted an instant spiral as the glass span and exploded against the window.

"Who fucking told you that you could drink?" Her voice was still playful, but her body was coiled, about to strike. He was bigger than her, taller and surely stronger, but his eyes were wide and he was already bowing his head as if conceding to the alpha female. He was just what she had asked for.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"No you didn't Silly Boy. Bad boy, and don't look at the fucking floor when I'm talking to you. Look at me!" Still her tone was friendly, but the ice underneath was starting to show through.

He raised his head and made brave, steady eye contact. She smiled, not a trace of malice in her face now, and brought her left hand up to caress the back of his neck. His skin was perfect, tiny hairs prickling against her fingers as they rose up off the back of his neck. She marvelled again at just how perfectly he was created, how real he felt. He shuddered slightly.

Gently, their bodies still apart, she pulled his face down towards her. "Good. Now, are you going to keep being good?" He was close, so close she was just breathing the words. And still she pulled him closer. He felt, rather than heard the words as she pushed them onto his lips.

"Yes," he breathed back.

"Are you going to do everything I tell you to?" It was a whisper so quiet he barely remembered to answer. He was longing for those lips, shining with gloss in the half-light of the room, to cross those last few millimetres and for them to finally touch.

"Yes."

"Good," she sighed and her right hand came up as a fist, hard and fast, driving into his flat, muscled stomach.

They made him strong, she realised as all of his air escaped and he started to double over; his muscular torso had really resisted the blow. But then, she really knew how to throw a punch. She stepped back neatly, allowing him to fold and collapse onto his hands and knees, heaving for air.

"Do you know my name?" She didn't wait for an answer, just dealt him a swift sharp kick to the ribs as he struggled to straighten up. He yelped in pain as the toe of her (gold, of course) heels dug into him.

"Yes! Yes, Cassandra."

She circled him, allowing him to straighten up. He knelt on the floor, not looking up at her, but shamelessly gawping at the temptation that lay hidden by the hem of her dress. What a brave little Doll! He didn't seem worried about what she might do to him at all.

"Very good," she drawled, drawing out the first word until it was almost a moan. She stopped right in front of him and turned so that her back was to him, planting her legs firmly apart just as she had when she hit him. She arched her back, pushing out her flat stomach and pushing her perfect ass up towards him. Her hands brushed lightly over her breasts, following the curve of her body down to her waist where each hand grabbed a handful of the rough fabric, pulling the dress impossibly tight over her succulent rear.

He made a noise somewhere in his throat and she smiled. She knew that in a way it was absurd to put on any kind of show for a Doll - after all, he was here for her and he was just circuits sparking reactions to stimulus - but she wasn't interested in just the action, the event of fucking. If she wasn't at least pretending to engage with him there was no way she would get off.

She twisted the fabric, feeling it pulling down on her nipples, slipping over them, and at the back it was sliding up the incline of her cheeks. He made another noise - oh God, was he whimpering? So perfect! She arched her back again and pulled that golden cloth up, so that with a soft sound it slipped inch by inch over her delicate skin.

He knelt, rapt, as her divine rear was exposed. The curve of her ass and... now he could see the golden line of her thong plunging down between those cheeks. She looked over her shoulder at him and, delighted by the effect she was having, shifted her dress the last small stretch so that it nestled at the base of her back.

She was exposed to him now, and for some reason exposing herself like this - to a Doll - was turning her on even more.

"What are you waiting for?" she giggled, "Kiss it!"

"I... uh..." but he didn't have any words for what he wanted to express, so she heard the clumsy shuffle of his knees as he came forwards. His hands were on her hips, warm and gentle and then the soft, wet touch of his lips and the scratch of his stubble on her left cheek.

"Mmmm..." she growled, and he moved the right. Again the harsh scrape of his facial hair teased her, and she loved it. This time the pressure of his kiss was followed up by the wet, dirty drag of his tongue. She gasped; he was smearing his spit all over her divine skin! She loved it. "More," she commanded and he licked again, hungrily, like a dog. Then back to the left cheek where he repeated the action.

She laughed and relaxed just a little, letting her thighs rest lightly on the slope of his shoulders. There was a pause as he drew away slightly then she felt his head dip back to her body and before she knew it he was biting her.

It was gentle, her firm flesh was trapped between his teeth and he was tugging - just barely. But still, it was enough to make her squeal and laugh again.

"Oh mercy! Dirty boy! Bad boy!" She reached back and cuffed his head softly, not wanting him to stop. He didn't, he bit her right cheek now, and his hands became bolder too, slipping from their safe position on her hips around her. They crept over her skin and she felt tiny electric charges flicker between the flesh of her thighs and his firm hands.

She should really have stopped him, the whole point of having a Doll was so that she could really taunt and abuse him without feeling guilty about it, but she liked the way this one worked. He bit her right ass cheek again, harder and she was the one making a wordless noise this time. She let her head fall back and her eyelids drooped as his hands pressed against her. They were flat against her, beneath the line of her panties, just beneath her hip bones, the fingers together pointing down at the swoop of fabric that covered her precious cleft.

Then they moved again and she shivered with pleasure. They were prying inquisitively at the edges of the soft, gold silk and before she knew it they had slipped under and in from both sides at once. His fingers already seemed to know her so well, they immediately found that tiny, trimmed tuft of hair and tugged at it. She stifled a soft cry and felt a kind of shame that she was letting him do whatever he wanted. Then again, all he wanted was to please her.

His tongue was between her cheeks now, licking up and then down, leaving a wet, tingling trail, hungrily delving as if trying to free the thin band of the thong all by itself. And now his fingers, slowly and deliberately, were making their way down to the opening just beneath that tuft. Oh no, should she stop him? Could she?

"Oh no," she gasped aloud, and then it was too late. His right hand was curling around and under her and was gently rubbing at her lips, seeking to gain entry. His left hand was gently exploring the area above this, hunting down her little clit. And she was wet, she could feel it now. Wet and ready. "Oh no, no..."

He didn't ask if she wanted him to stop, despite these vocal reservations. And suddenly both of his bold, exploring hands found their treasure and she bent over with a soft cry, leaning back into him properly now, feeling his stubble scratch between the pert cheeks of her ass as his tongue continued to tease her. One finger was inside her - no, two! Two fingers driving in, penetrating, Christ he worked fast. And the other hand had found her clit so quickly, had pulled and squeezed it to expose the sensitive nub and now he was... oh God, he was pinching it! Between his thumb and forefinger, pinching and pulling and now...

She gasped for air, he had released it and now was just skimming his fingers lightly over it. But it was so sensitive, her thighs were trembling and still his tongue was licking, his face buried in her, and now she felt his tongue poking and probing at the tiny fabric line that protected the tiny pucker of her asshole. Already she could feel him trying to tongue it out of the way and she blushed.

Why was she blushing? This was absurd, he was just a Doll that would pleasure her tonight, and his memory would be erased and tomorrow no one would know. Then these rational thoughts slipped away as his fingers started to pump in and out of her and his skipping, skimming fingers started to press down a little more.

"Oh fuck, yes," she gasped, her reservations stripped away as rays of pleasure blasted her body, "that's a good boy." He didn't seem to be able to expose her puckered rear opening, and she was a little disappointed about that. But he had full access to - full control of - her other opening and as his strong fingers split her open and manipulated her beneath the silk of her panties she felt her control slipping more and more.

She risked a look down, and just the sight of his big hands bulging out and distending the sheer fabric of her underwear, the knuckles slipping back and forth under the shimmering fabric, was enough to amplify her arousal tenfold.

"Sweet mercy... what a good boy." She bit her lip and groaned, long and loud as his fingers started to make the wet, slutty noises that she knew precipitated her climax. There was the feeling too, rising up and coming into view, still in the distance but approaching at an incredible speed. Her own hands had been unoccupied, floating in the air but now they urgently, savagely pulled at her dress, extricating her arms from the shoulder straps and dragging it down beneath her breasts. As they finally gained their freedom her small, firm breasts bobbed up, the nipples hard and she immediately gave them the attention they craved, raking her nails across them.

His fingers worked at an incredible speed, never slowing, never allowing her a moment of respite. Her entire body was alight with some unholy fire that this Doll was creating and she started twisting and writhing from the waist up, as if she both wanted to escape and wanted to give herself over to this completely.

Then came the point at which she knew there was no escape. There was nothing she could do now that would not result in her coming.

And so she came.

"Oh sweet fuck. Sweet fucking mercy... AH!" She rocked forward onto the toes of her high heels, lifting her ass away from his mouth, but not escaping from his fingers which continued to fuck her pussy even as it squeezed itself onto them, tight and hot. The climax shook her, surprised her and left her giggling and dizzy. He knew just when to stop too, and his fingers extracted themselves from beneath her panties just when the final blast of pleasure had dissipated.

She staggered a couple of steps and collapsed into a huge, luxurious armchair. Her force field of superiority had, at least temporarily, been removed and she removed her panties in a surprisingly carefree way. She lay back in the seat and lifted her feet up into the air, bringing her legs together and her knees up to her chest to extricate herself from the wet mess of silk. He was standing now, smiling with pride and watching mesmerised as she stripped herself and exposed herself to him properly.

She sat back in the chair now, feet on the floor and her dress little more than a wide belt, hiked up to expose her pussy, pushed down to expose her breasts. Her own fingers made the journey past her tiny strip of sandy blonde hair and explored her wet, fingered lips.

"That was very good," he was watching her every move so intently it was a little disconcerting, "but you only distracted me for a moment. Strip." The command was delivered with same playful yet steely tone as before. She idly played with herself, slouched in the chair and letting her juices stain the expensive furniture as he obeyed.

His movements were simple and economical. First his shoes and socks, then his shirt, then his dress pants. All in a neat pile on the floor to the side of him. He only slowed when it was only his tight cotton boxers left. The light was hitting him from the side and the extent of his arousal was plain to see. She laughed openly, her eyes roving and taking in his flat stomach, his broad chest and the gorgeous muscles of his shoulders. Yummy, she thought.

"What are you waiting for?" He didn't answer, but a dirty smile flickered across his lips for a split second. He tugged the boxers down from the waistband at either side and the front became hooked over the jutting, solid erection that he was so proudly sporting. "Oooh!" she giggled with delight as he pulled harder and the fabric pushed his swelling prick down, then suddenly slipped over it and the pulsing shaft shot up.

And oh, it was worth the wait. Not spectacularly lengthy, it was nevertheless nothing to be ashamed of, and it was deliciously, divinely thick. Just as she liked.

She applauded as he placed his underwear with his other clothes. Then she beckoned him over then had him stand before her, just to be inspected, for a few moments. She couldn't resist for long though. Her hand reached out and her delicate, manicured fingers wrapped themselves partway around his wide shaft. She pumped it - three swift jerks - and he made a bestial sound.

"Delightful." She released him and sat back, devilish fires flickering in her eyes. "Make yourself come please."

He froze for a moment and seemed a little confused. Had he expected that, after turning her on so much she would beg him for his cock? She laughed at the frown that slipped across his pleasant features.

"Don't you understand? Let me be more specific. Turn and face the window - so I get a good view of the profile of that fucking prick - and jerk it with your hand until you shoot your hot, creamy cum onto this deep-pile carpet. And if I'm happy with the performance you put on then maybe we'll play more."