In her quiet home at the foot of a hill, the last house on the block, Sam waited in a nervous excitement. She sat on her lumpy old couch and bounced her leg until she couldn't take it, and then she paced the scored wooden floor. She tried cleaning every room for the fourth time, baking yet another batch of cookies, and cleaning every tool and implement carefully laid out on her living room's coffee table. If she could have, Sam would have taken apart and rebuilt her house in the anxiety of waiting.
Naturally, this meant that when the doorbell did finally ring, Sam let out a cry that echoed around the living room. With flushed cheeks, she opened the door to the sight of a dour man in shorts thrusting a clipboard in her face. Sam jotted down all the necessary information, signed her name three times, and got out of the way to let the delivery man roll in a box taller and wider than either of them. He tipped his cap once to her and was gone, leaving Sam alone once more; but not for long, she hoped.
Sam tore open the plain brown box and dug through the packing peanuts with fervor. Inside was a large metal case, cold to the touch. It was too heavy for Sam to lug it out herself, so she set about cutting the box away around it and sliding the case to the middle of the room. The lid opened with a hiss after lifting a half-dozen latches on both sides. Fog spilled out in waves and lights inside clicked on. Inside the box was a doll shaped like a person.
The doll was slightly taller than Sam and chubbier as well with wider hips and a larger bosom. Where Sam's hair was a long mass of tangled curls, its was short and straight. She had known in the order that it would come with genitalia, but seeing the small penis between the doll's legs still made Sam turn her head away in embarrassment. After a moment she regained her composure and carefully tapped the doll. Nothing happened. For all that it mattered, the doll showed no signs of life.
"Oh, right, duh!" Sam cried, slapping her forehead. She scrambled up from the floor and fumbled around the coffee table until she came up with a long rod. It was made of old, stained wood and inlaid with small carvings of those who came before her. Sam dropped back in front of the doll and waved the wand. Her hair stood on end and the air stank of ozone. A moment passed and then the doll's hair stood as well and it began to stir.
Sam put her rod to the side and knelt before the stirring doll. She realized she wasn't sure what to do. Should she have grabbed some of the cookies? But there wasn't time for that now. The doll opened its gray eyes and looked up. It tilted its head and spoke, "Is this one alive again?"
"Yeah, you're alive," Sam said and gave it a thumbs-up. "I'm at least pretty sure this isn't the afterlife."
She laughed, but the doll didn't. Sam sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, can you stand? Are you able to get out of the box?"
The doll nodded. It lifted itself slowly, carefully, out of its temporary tomb. The doll wiped ice from its body. Sam grabbed a blanket she had prepared and wrapped it around the doll.
It looked at her with glassy eyes. "Thank you," it said.
"No problem," Sam said. She looked over the doll's body now that it stood before her. It had no marks on it, which was fine with her. Sam touched the doll and it shivered. Its skin was soft. "What do I call you?" she asked.
"Whatever you wish," it said. "This one has no name."
Sam tapped her chin. "Didn't you have one before you were, uh, made like this?"
The doll shook its head. "No, this one does not have memories of that time."
"Right," Sam said. "Well I don't want you to have no name at all. That'd be...weird. How about Melanie?" She scratched the back of her head. "It's the name of my ex so I guess that's creepy, but..."
"Thank you for the name," the doll now named Melanie said. "This one is grateful."
"Good," Sam said. She straightened her back and looked closely over Melanie. "Do you wish to know why you are here, Melanie?" she asked.
Melanie stared. "It is not this one's purpose to know," it said. "Only obey."
Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. "Right," she said, "but I think it would be kind of strange if I didn't tell you. Is that okay?"
"Are you asking for this one's permission?" Melanie asked. It squinted and tilted its head. "This one does not believe it has the ability to give permission."
"Okay, I get that, just...never mind." Sam rubbed her cheek. "Work with me, alright?"
Melanie nodded. "This one will obey."
Sam picked up the rod at her feet and placed it neatly along with the other implements on the table. Some were simple tools meant to test all sorts of vital signs. Others were more mysterious, glowing faintly and pulsing with a magic only Sam could hear. She turned back to Melanie and pointed at the table.
"These are for you," Sam said. "I'm...not the best witch. But I have to be, y'know?" She cracked her knuckles as she spoke. "It's, like, the big thing my family is good at. So if I'm not, I don't...I just have to be. So I need someone to test on. If I can just figure out what I'm doing wrong, if I can visualize it, I can nail the next exams." She turned to Melanie. "Do you understand?"
"This one was made this way to serve witches," it said. "There is no task this one will not carry out. You own this one."
"I know, I know," Sam groaned. "It just feels a little...gross. I mean, I bought you. Isn't that weird?"
Melanie shook its head. "This one volunteered to be made a doll. It has no other purpose."
Sam looked the doll in its face and nodded. "Right. Okay. I can do this." Her stomach rumbled with a reminder that she hadn't eaten the entire day and Sam growled. Some time to be hungry.
"Come with me," she said and led Melanie to the kitchen. The results of her feverish preparation lay about on cheap baking sheets. Sam took a cookie and ate it in one bite. It felt like a rock going down, but it was better than nothing. "Do you want one?" she asked, holding up a snickerdoodle.
Melanie bowed and took the offered cookie. "This one thanks you," it said.
Sam smiled and ate another. "Do you like cookies? I mean, I know you don't need to eat human food, but it tastes good right?"
"This one does not need to eat more than one nutrition packet per month," Melanie said. "This one does, however, enjoy the treats made for it by its owner."
"Well good, because I like making them," Sam said. She noticed crumbs dribbling out of Melanie's mouth, some of which rolled down its body and rested on its penis. Without thinking, Sam reached over and brushed them off. Then, realizing what she had done, stepped back. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it!"
The doll tilted its head. "Why is this one's owner sorry? As a doll, this one's body is open to its owner. There is nothing its owner needs to apologize for."
"Oh, yeah, right." Sam paused. "Can I touch it again?"
"You may do as you wish," the doll said.
Sam's cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. She reached one trembling hand to the doll's belly and touched it. Its skin was soft and cool. Sam gulped and lowered her hand to its crotch. She carefully cupped its balls and rubbed her thumb over the short length of her doll's cock.
"It's so...soft," Sam said.
"Is that bad?" Melanie asked.