Not too badly, with a little encouragement...

Even now, after so many sexual encounters with her, you find it difficult to look away from Harley's naked tits. You do your best not to show it, though, knowing that the impact of your next words would depend upon the coolness of your facade.

"Aw, c'mon. Is that all?" you whisper, leaning in close, "We talked about this, didn't we?"

She answers with a furtive nod. Allura's eyes bore into your back as you encourage the Love Doll, no doubt seeking a reason - any reason - for their owner to come to her sister's defense.

"You got nothing to be ashamed of. Since Love Dolls became a thing I see topless chicks all the time." you exaggerate.

Harley sniffs, putting her reflexive glances at passers-by on hold.

"Really?"

"Sure. Mostly when I head into the city, but it's definitely getting more common."

"...Why?" she asks with obvious skepticism, "I mean, why would they do that?"

You shrug.

"I dunno. Most are Dolls, probably, and I bet they do it just 'cuz they can. No worries, no reputation to ruin, a hot body that isn't theirs... I guess they figure 'why not get naked?'"

"Is she okay?" Allura suddenly interjects, having finally pieced together the topic of your whispered conversation, "Does she need help covering up?"

"Nah, nah. It's cool." you drawl, turning just in time to notice that she's about to rip off a piece of her own garment. "Her nip-tape wore out, but we've got it handled. Ripping up your own shit won't help unless you can stick it right to her."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"It's how I ordered her." you explain. "If more than 1% of her body is covered, she overheats."

Allura stares at you blankly for a moment, struggling to fathom the implications of this unusual limitation.

"Okaaay... But, can't you just turn that off? You're the one that made up that rule for her, right?"

You'd thought about this moment since the day you signed the order form: what were you supposed to do if the doll ever questioned your power over her? If she ever discovered that all the rules that bound her were nothing but a house of cards you could alter on a whim?

Fortunately, your first reading of the exam instructions provided the answer you were looking for:

"Not without failing the exam." you finally reply. "The sheet says we can't override anything we wrote on our forms until the last day of presentations."

"...And that's important to you? More important than my- I mean, Harley's - dignity?"

"She's the one who said she'd help me pass, so keep your assumptions to yourself, alright? This isn't about you."

With that you turn your back on her and squat again at Harley's side, confident in the knowledge that your whispered pep talk would now continue without further interruption.

A short time later, Callum returns to the terminal to find the three of you boarding the bus back home. Through grimy windows you see him rush to the front of the bus, climb the steps and pay his fare before striding down its central aisle to meet you at the back.

"I'm back, bitches!" he proclaims, grinning around at you all with a pointed heft of his shopping bag. Your friend's next words catch in his throat, however, when he notices that Harley's unrealistically pert and ample mounds are on full display.

"Jesus christ, dude." he murmurs, leaning in to leer at the recoiling blonde more closely, "Your doll is so stacked! Mind if I feel her up a bit?"

Harley, who had been handling herself admirably up to this point, suddenly looks to you with wide and fearful eyes.

"Nah, man... C'mon." you start to say, though only your doll ends up hearing it over the sound of Allura's interjection:

"Come off it, would you?" she huffs, "Isn't that the sort of thing you got me for?"

Callum's hands pause mere milliseconds before making contact with Harley's quivering milkers, his interest piqued by Allura's implication.

"As if you'd let me."

"Well." sighs the elf, crossing arms and legs alike in an effort to appear demure, "If you keep harassing other girls in front of me I definitely won't."

Thick as he may occasionally be, your friend gets the message. With one last, longing glance at Harley's plump tata's he withdraws - but not before reaching into his magic bag and producing a box for each of them.

"Merry Christmas." he grumbles, finally slinking to his seat as the girls begin breaching their boxes with identical technique.

"Thanks, Jim." quips Allura, who rewards you with a fairly genuine half-smile for your trouble.

Harley, however, doesn't say anything at first; it's only when you look over to find her beaming - cheeks still aflame after your earlier attempt to defend her from Cal's grabby hands - that you receive the response you'd been waiting for:

"Yeah. Thanks, Master."