Chapters Dollhood: A Woman's Choice Book 2 Chapter 20
Indeed Father did offer John the prospect of marriage later that evening whilst the men were sipping on their digestifs in the study, but such courting was a long road, for we hardly even knew the young man. Father began his meetings with John the next week, testing the boy and measuring his character, and despite obvious social hangups, Father seemed to like his intelligence and candour, and approved John and us to begin ‘dating’ (the newer term enjoyed by the common girls).
Then came the great question: which one of us would marry John? Previously Father had split his prospects between us almost equally, though generally Chastity received the opportunity to court with the more well-placed suitors due to her flawless behaviour, but John had expressed an interest in testing the waters with both of us before he made a decision, though how he would discern between two utterly mute, identical twins I had no idea.
I remember as clear as crystal that first ‘date’ with John, for it was so unlike all the others that I had endured. It was a sunny day and I was sitting in the drawing room, oddly alone, staring into space and doing kegel exercises as we had been taught in school when, out of the corner of my blurred vision, I saw the door open and someone walk in. I did not know who it was at first because I could not turn, although I could tell that it was a man from the speed and steadiness of his movements and the sleek stylings and sombre colours of men’s suits. Man or not, I also realised this was someone who was entirely unaccustomed to being around Dolls.
Experienced gentlemen, mostly Societymen, always stand in front of us Dolls at first so that we can see who is addressing us. This also allows us the opportunity to witness the lecherous depravity play off across their faces as our bodies affect them so, often as they address our open bosom instead of our faces. A rather intrusive fondle or an unwelcome kiss to the cheek, while brazen and recklessly uncouth with a Lady who will undoubtedly snap back at first ungagging, is irreproachable with a Doll designed merely to enjoy such refreshing breaks to her monotonous life. Such is the doll’s lot.
But this man was different. To put it simply, he hadn’t a clue.
The man approached awkwardly and sat down next to me, out of my eyeline, shuffled a bit, cleared his throat and then said, “Hello Hope, I am so… delighted to be here with you. You look… uhm… you look lovely.”
I instantly recognised John’s voice and that, despite his words, he did not sound happy at all. In fact, he sounded decidedly uncomfortable and uneasy, and the compliment was a far less convincing courtesy than most, enunciated very carefully as if I was dim or hard of hearing.
“Father says we would be good together… I mean, not just him. We probably would, no, we will be good together, I am sure we will. You are a nice girl I’m sure, I think, it’s just…”
His voice trailed away. He sounded petrified and I didn’t know what to do. What I even could do.
“Normally I would take you by the hand but then, well…” His voice trailed away again.
A puff of air escaped my neck silently, a sardonic laugh. As callous of a reminder as that was, I could tell I was not the butt of the joke in his eyes. This boy — nearly eight years my senior and I couldn’t help but refer to him as a boy — was harmless.
“I just had a date with your sister. I don’t know if that went well. She didn’t really respond… Oh you don’t want to hear this.”
He was right about that.
“H-Hope, I would like to get to know you. I would like to talk… I mean… how to say it… we will get on I think but I want you to show me how… but…”
He seemed so terrified of me, of saying the wrong thing, that for minutes he didn’t really say anything at all, just stammers and half-thoughts. I just wanted to put him at ease, except any movement would surely alert my maid… but perhaps since John was here she would be lenient and I would not be punished later with corner-time, capsaicin in my mush or, god-fearing, a caning? A Doll could hope.
With all my effort I shuffled my arse over toward him, unavoidably jostling my chest, my face still staring blankly out the window. But the moment I did so, his body recoiled like a bolt of lighting had been sent through it, scooting away and defeating the few inches I had fought for. Perhaps I scared him even more by moving. I couldn’t seem to win with this man, but thankfully he approached me again, cautiously, and rested his hand chastely on my lap, and I cannot lie, even that muted contact through my dress made me eager.
“You… you’re in there, and you want to talk? But Father said you took a vow of silence? You must really fancy me, at least a bit?.”
He wasn’t quite right but it’s not as if I could correct him, scooting closer again.
“You do fancy me! I never thought… I mean… girls… I’m not very experienced… and Dollgirls, well, I’ve seen them once or twice but I… I never thought a Doll would—”
What he was about to say I never found out because the door opened again and two more figures entered, followed by an entourage of Dolls and maids. This time I knew exactly who they were, for they both came directly in front of me and bent down to kiss my cheeks. Father did so quickly, but Jack Collins let it linger as his hand grazed my breast, first in passing and then firmer once he remembered he could as he damn well pleased.
I told you such things were common, dear Reader, and it seems when presented with our utter vulnerability, men like Mr. Collins simply could not restrain their desire, even in such moments when my father was right there. He withdrew and turned to his son:
“Whilst it’s nice to see you two lovebirds enjoying yourselves so much, why don’t you take little Miss Hodgkinson for a stroll around the garden? It would be quite romantic… and it would give me a little time alone to converse with her equally-charming sister.”
If I could have glanced at Chastity, I would have done. Was Jack a potential suitor as well? No one told me anything these days, even about my own prospects, I was so confused.
Father agreed, “Yes, Hope, you keep John here entertained. I feel that I have neglected my darling Cuddles for too long. By the by, Jack, have you ever considered renaming?”
“I have, and I’ll be honest, I’ve always had a soft spot for Chestley or Swordsheath. `Tad dramatic I know, but that said I don’t think I can beat what you’ve done already. How can I better Chastity here? The irony is delicious! Indeed, it’s what made me choose her over the other one…”
What they spoke about after that and what my poor sister and one-time friend then had to endure I cannot say, for John had helped me up, put his arm gingerly around my waist and was now guiding me out of the room.
I was glad to leave. For the first time in my adult life, a man had taken me away from that… that salacious jesting so often at our expense. I had no idea that option was open to us, perhaps only in the arms of a true gentleman. John was virtuous, it seemed, and I found myself smiling inside.
The sun in the garden was glorious. John led me carefully, his hand around my hardened waist where I could barely feel it. He said nothing and patiently slowed down to my snail-like pace. Partways there, when my breasts really began to heave and I could feel myself growing faint, he asked, “Do you need a rest?”
I curtseyed slightly and we stopped for a minute to catch my breath. He glanced once or twice at my breasts rising and falling in such quick and eager gasps, but I could hardly blame him reacting to my flurry. When I clicked my heel we moved on again, but only as far as the bench on the terrace that overlooks the main lawn, the lawn I could no longer explore save for one short path, remembering how I used to frolic as a little girl by the oak trees, farther than I could now see. He sat me down quite adeptly, and I felt the sun’s warmth on my face. For some moments he sat in silence and then, timidly, he began to speak:
“I thought I had a choice… uhm, Hope… that is your name, isn’t it? It is a lovely name. My father might like Chastity… but I prefer Hope. It is more uplifting and… uhm, hopeful…” He paused and fidgeted. “I guess that was a pretty stupid thing to say. I’m not as dim as I sound, it’s just… I’m a physicist, a top-rate one too, or I will be once I finish at Imperial College, but I do sound dim around women, I admit. Father is the opposite; he loves them and he’s so confident. But me, I don’t know, I just never know what to say. There is one girl at the university. She is really smart and we were on the same lab team, I don’t know if she’s been accepted again for her doctorate. Her name is Priscilla and she is older than you. My age. She is really nice and beautiful too I suppose, but I never know what to say to her. About work and study I know of course, we get on quite well, but beyond that, I haven’t a clue, I lock up, you hear it. She is very confident you see, always the boss of the team if the professor is open-minded like that. I don’t think she notices me much in that way, although she is always friendly I suppose. Anyway, she is about the only girl that I know and have spoken to much.”
While he spoke I was imagining this Priscilla: confident, intelligent, in control, a fizzi— I mean a scientist. All the things that I could never be, and I found myself hating her! What a uppity cherry, to ignore a man like John who, whilst admittedly a bit wet and rather childlike, was still a thousand times better than all those other lecherous oafs who had courted me so far. I wished there and then that she would get married off to one of them and they would transform her into a Doll with enormous tits and no legs just like Cuddles, but almost as soon as I considered what my imagination had wrought, I felt ashamed of myself for such thoughts and proffered an honest retraction. Was I truly so fallen from the right and true Doll mind to consider Dollhood a punishment? I didn’t even know this girl! Anyhow, jealousy befits no one and besides, it seemed I would be the one marrying John, not her!
“I guess that was stupid of me, talking about another girl again when I should be talking about myself… or not myself, that’s rude… us. I should be talking about us. By God, I really am bad at this. How old are you? I know you’re younger, but your chest… I… I’m sorry that’s improper. I wish you could help me and guide me but I’m guessing you can’t talk at all, or turn your head or anything, right? I heard some of you can nod, but… I hope you can feel too and are not as vacant as you appear. I am sure not. Whatever the case, if you don’t mind, I will talk to you. I don’t know what else to do…”
Again, his voice trailed off. We both sat in silence. Then he said, “Actually, I do know what I should do: you should kiss a girl you like. But I’ve never done it before. My father would have done it. He’d have stuck his tongue right in there and probably done other things. He’s like that. I saw how eagerly he greeted you… and I’m sorry. I am eager too, don’t get me wrong, you are very… Yes, we should kiss… but then… I only want to if you want it. But how can I ask you?”
God, his deliberations exhausted me. Yes I wanted him to kiss me, I had been desperate for such a simple thing for weeks now, months even! Luckily he resolved himself only a moment later.
“I know what! Lean into me if you would like me to kiss you.”
Using what little flexibility I had left in my lower spine, I leant over and let my statuesque upper body fall into him, his strong arm wrapping around me to catch what would otherwise be an unrecoverable tip, to hold me close. Quite unable to look up at him in my slowly budding affections, I instead simply revelled in the warmth I could feel through his shirt. This time when I made my feelings known, it did not feel like a bolt of electricity had hit him.
“You… so you would like a kiss! Oh my! Uhm, well, I’m glad you don’t hate me at least. But I’m not very good at this… not good at all. Still, I can try.”
And so he finally bent down, removed my small gag and let his lips touch mine.
I felt like I had entered paradise. It was not my first kiss of course, you know of the other one, but it was the first in my new body and the first where I had been asked permission, as strange as that thought was. Even though my lips could not kiss him back, it was bliss!
When he finished and pulled away, he said softly, “I want to be happy with you. I want you to be happy with me. I don’t really have a lot of say in this arrangement and nor do you, I am guessing. You probably wouldn’t pick someone like me if you had a choice, I’m sure, but I will try. I will try to make you happy. And if you try to like me, not even love, just like, then that is enough for me. Thank you Hope, thank you.”
I was speechless, and not for the reasons you already know. No one had ever spoken to me in such a way, not even close, especially since my graduation. It was odd, it felt wrong, but the butterflies in my stomach told me ‘wrong’ wasn’t the right word. I had nearly fainted from the rush his lips gave me, but his words made my spirits turn up. Perhaps this life wasn’t as hopeless as I thought.
I had several more dates with John after that, each much the same as the first; him shy and uncertain, myself just sitting there, silent and passive. Each time he would reach an impasse of pent up anxious insecurity, I would simply fall into him, and he would wrap his arm around my empty shoulders, hold me close, maybe tell me about his life in the big city, maybe just sit there admiring the verdant view. Even then, we knew that we would be married.
Knowing relatively little about the stronger sex, save for the veneration Nanny and my Teachers had always impressed upon us, and Father, our shining example for so long, I had always had the understanding that men were entirely free to do as they pleased. Perhaps that was true, in relative terms, but I caught the distinct feeling that John was as entangled by others’ decisions as I was.
The dates were a charade, a game to be played for the amusement of my father and his. We were merely puppets to be operated for their pleasure or profit.
Never was that more apparent when, on the day before our engagements were announced, Mr. Collins decided to take me out for a walk in order to get to know his future daughter-in-law better, whilst John was ordered to stay behind with Chastity who was, after all, to become his sister-in-law and step-mother soon enough.
Although it was but another walk in the garden, the two experiences could not have been more different. Whereas John always kept to my pace and handled me with care, Jack grabbed me roughly and hurriedly pushed me along at the speed he desired. And when I grew weak, short of breath, and began seeing stars, he merely pushed harder before he finally huffed and picked my petite frame up and threw me over his shoulder as I blacked out.
I awoke on the bench with my future father-in-law sitting beside me. As I came round he was fondling my breasts and kissing at my neck. Not even a moment conscious and I was flush, my breathing heavy, my body reacting to this attention as it was designed by God (and my doctors) to do.
“My dear, you’re back!” he exclaimed with a smile when my eyes blinked open to indicate I was conscious. “I have waited too long to have this little chat with my future daughter-in-law and sister-in-law rolled into one, though I think I’ll call you daughter, I always wanted one.”
He continued groping my tits, silently refusing to even make an excuse. Oh goodness, I was so turned on, I knew I didn’t want this from my father-in-law behind his son’s back, but part of me was happy I wasn’t a commonwoman who had to constantly defend her honour: I was property, there was nothing to do but acquiesce to his rough hands, so I could just submit now. The other part of me hated that admission. Both parts of me had to acknowledge the wet patch growing on the underside of my dress as I leaked in yearning for him.
“I apologise for our earlier show in front of you and your family weeks ago, your father has set me straight, informed me that you girls indeed can see and hear us, and what’s more he mentioned begrudgingly that you were quite bright before your graduation. A perfect candidate for Dollhood, it seems! My late wife was also whip-smart, and she took quite readily to the ideals of leisurely living, but my my, you don’t really have a choice but to accept do you?”
He spoke in a tone so casual that my usual displeasure for his lack of tact and manners simmered into fear, desperately hoping we weren’t entirely out of sight from the main house, even though I knew in my stomach we were…
“I knew about you lot, of course everyone does, but not like this. A man like me would be lucky to see a single Doll out in public, maybe a few at the fête, and I had no idea how beautiful and… capable you girls are. A shame my boy probably won’t dare to touch you, never mind fuck you like you need.”
Mr. Collins was right, I had been worried about John’s lack of vigour, but at this moment I was more concerned with how my tender nipple was being teased under my bust, how his other hand wrapped around me to grope my behind.
“That’s alright, dear. I know, I know. I’ll be here whenever you need to enjoy a taste of what your sweet sister’s pussy will be getting every single night. Hell, you and I could even work out a secret signal for when my useless son has driven you to the edge of your wits. My my, how I will enjoy welcoming you into our little family. Or perhaps, why don’t you welcome me in your own special way?”
And with those words he clumsily deflated my fleur-de-bouche and forced me off the bench and onto my knees, my flowing dress the only padding I had against the hard garden pavers. Mr. Collins quickly unbuttoned his crotch to reveal an erect, straining member, and there was no way for me to stop staring at it’s girth as my doll body responded appropriately.
I was transported back to St. Werburgh’s, when I was coaxed into an ‘oral exam’ with Sir Wainwright behind his grand mahogany desk. I knew now what was coming and yet that did not make it easier. Within seconds he had grabbed my head and impaled it upon his waiting cock, groaning and gasping as he pumped me up and down and my tight hole of a mouth went to work on his penis. I tried to blank my mind like they taught us at school, I tried to imagine that this was John and not him, but it was no good. The taste was slightly different but no better than the Headmaster’s had been last year. Even so, my tongue eagerly lapped at the underside of his spear whilst my subdermal vibrators and throat muscles milked this tormentor, the helpless passenger inside this shell forced to stare unflinchingly at his hips thrusting at her face over and over…
“My God, girl, you’re good! They do make bloody good Dollies these days, and you’re far better than my first wife. Why, I’m almost tempted to think that I’ve picked the wrong Hodgkinson twin!”
And then, to my surprise, he stopped, pulled my face off his cock with a needy slurp, and stared straight into my joyful, blinking eyes. “Or then again, no,” he said. “I’m happy with my decision. Fact is, there is no right or wrong Hodgkinson twin. You’re both bloody identical, two peas out of the same pod. Or off the same production line. You look the damn same and you suck the damn same; yes I’ve tested her too, darling Hope. And later, once your cunts are unlocked, we’ll find out if you fuck the damn same too. But for now, a present from your new daddy!”
Leaving me with the distinct mental image of my sister getting railed by this brute, Mr. Collins proceeded to stroke himself to completion, erupting all over my face.
I saw it coming right at me and couldn’t even shut my eyes before I felt the ropes of warm, sticky mess cover my cheeks. He stood up, buttoned himself up, took a photo with his pocket camera and then walked away with a smile. And I was left there with his seed dribbling down my face and into my heaving cleavage, too weak to even move from where he had left me, ass on the pavement and my legs doubled over and splayed to each side of my double-jointed hips.
From somewhere closer to the house I heard him again, faintly, “…attend to Lady Hope and make sure Alan doesn’t see.” By the time an automaid had escorted me back inside and I could fully appreciate what he had left me with in the mirror, his seed had dried into a white crust on my eager, plastic face.