Your Love Doll's interview approaches

"Name?" Mr. LaVerne prompts, having lost any trace of civility in his tone a few interviews back.

"...Alisha."

"Good. Do you like that name?"

She remains silent for a long time, jaw working as the Love Doll tries to formulate a reply that won't be challenged.

"It fits."

"Fair enough..." murmurs the teacher before pausing to jot something down.

"And how do you feel about your physical alterations?"

The dark-skinned, kinky-haired girl at the front of the room closes her eyes, as if summoning the courage to go on. Alex looks on nervously, no doubt anticipating yet another stain on her already-tarnished reputation.

"...It's not what I would have chosen for myself." says Alisha, locking eyes with the black classmate who'd filled out her form. "Let's leave it at that."

"Very well. Has he fucked you?"

She freezes up. Her eyelids flicker and, like most of the subjects before her, casts an apologetic look toward Alex before giving the same answer they gave:

"Yes." she replies, "Before I could say no."

Mr. LaVerne allows this statement to pass unexamined, continuing with the interview.

"Would you consider letting him fuck you again?"

She utters an anxious laugh, eyes watering a little despite her best efforts.

"I think we all know 'let' has nothing to do with it." she huffs, moving to return to her master's desk before being dismissed.

Mr. LaVerne lets her go, electing instead to read out the next student's name:

"James Rae."

This time it's Harley's turn. She rises to her feet and makes her way to the front, not even bothering to try and cover herself; maybe she figured it was futile, given the sheer number of eyes on her?

"Name?" drones Mr. LaVerne, who doesn't even look up from his papers to regard her.

"Harley." she answers. She seems to exude the same air of quiet loyalty she had when introducing herself to Callum, and judging by the murmuring of your peers it hasn't gone unnoticed.

"Harley, hmm? Do you like that name?"

"Sure," she says, "I look like her, after all - the Batman character, I mean."

"Oh? Can't say I'm familiar." he admits, looking almost aggressively uninterested in the topic. "So, you don't mind looking like this character? You like your new figure?"

Harley starts to fidget a little at this point in the interview, as many before her had done. Unlike them, though, she doesn't look fearful; in fact, if anything, she looks almost girlishly embarrassed.

"Well, not at first..." she begins, staring down at her feet to hide the colour in her cheeks. "But I know her, this character. She always seemed kind of... Quirky. And fun. The more I thought about it, the more I didn't really mind looking like her."

You take a moment to look Alex's way and find exactly what you expected: a look of thinly-veiled disgust. Of all the Love Dolls who'd spoken so far, none of them expressed anything resembling approval about their looks or their situation; you imagine that the thought of any version of herself finding any part of this acceptable must be infuriating to her.

"When it comes to the rest..." Harley continues, "My chest is too big. And he made it so that I can only wear... Well, not much more than this, somehow. It's humiliating. Honestly, I'd really appreciate it if you all didn't stare."

After looking around as if to confirm that her plea had, indeed, gone unheeded, Mr. LaVerne moves on to the next question:

"Has Mr. Rae fucked you yet, Harley?"

"No." she replies, accurately.

"Would you consider fucking him?"

For the first time since the interview began, Harley looks to your teacher.

"...You can see what I'm thinking anyway?"

She waits to register his nod of affirmation before going on:

"Then... Yes." she finally confirms, meeting your eyes with a shy, self-conscious smile on her lips.

"I guess I would."

At this revelation, the murmuring of your fellow classmates swells to a fever pitch. Callum even leans over to clap you on the shoulder, plainly impressed that his own friend's Love Doll had been the only subject to accept the idea of sexual servitude so far.

The last few interviews are a blur. After Harley returns to your side you find yourself unable to do anything but spend the last 20 minutes turning her last words over in your mind. Was she serious? Were you really, finally going to get laid?

The sudden, obnoxious ringing of the bell reminds you that, even if you were, it wouldn't be anytime soon; you still had a day full of classes to attend, after all. You follow the ensuing flood of students and exam subjects out into the hallway (with Harley close behind) and make a beeline for your locker, which you adroitly unlock before holding the door open to admit her.

"What?" she inquires, confused.

"I got other classes," you explain, "I need you in here."

As expected, Harley doesn't seem pleased by this prospect.

"No...! Really? Won't I suffocate?" she exclaims, cupping her chest experimentally while scrutinizing the locker's dimensions. "...Assuming I could even fit in there...?"

"You don't need to breathe. And I'll deactivate you while I'm gone, anyway - for you, the whole thing'll last a few seconds. You'll be safe, too."

"...This is really the only way?"

"That or I send you home now, alone... Dressed like that."

Harley heaves another of her trademark sighs, shooting you an "I-hope-you-appreciate-this" glare as she gathers her boobs to her chest and attempts to sidle into your narrow locker. It's dicey, for sure, but despite having to pause multiple times to adjust her unruly mounds your Love Doll eventually manages to cram herself into the enclosed space.

"...Just don't forget about me, okay?" she finally asks when you move to shut the locker door, her wide, blue eyes pleading at you from within.

"I won't. Deactivate."

Picking up on the tonal cues in your voice, Harley's CPU registers your final word as a command and shuts her down. The girl goes limp before your eyes, leaving you free to shut and lock the door without the need to offer further reassurances.

Then you turn and head off down the hall, trying to put the Love Doll from your mind as you set out to attend your next class.