An Interlude With The Dolls

"I think..I have feelings for Master Fredrick." Am said softly to Er. Their cots in the small storage room where the dolls slept were right next to each. In the cot next to Er, Ma silently rubbed her pussy. A lingering compulsion installed by her previous Master.

"He probably gave them to you himself." Er pointed out. "The Masters can do that."

"I know, but...." Am sighed. "I really feel it? What if it is, you know, natural?"

"The man activates your pain protocols every day. Do you really think that you fell for him without the CPU interfering?" Er pointed out. In the background, Ma's frantic gasping and whimpering was only growing louder.

"He makes me like it first." Am said with a shrug. But, the other doll had a fair point. It probably was all the result of their programming. Er had been a doll longer then either her or Ma (and her mental functions probably hadn't been tampered with too much), so they both went to her for advice. "Still, what should I do about it?"

"Do about it?" Er said. "I don't like to think about those kind of things. If Master installed it himself, then I'm sure he did it for some purpose. If not, then I'm sure he'll pick it up before long. At that point, he'll either keep the mental connection or try to break. We're dolls. That means it's out of our hands."

Ma cried out softly. Despite her best efforts, she just couldn't make herself orgasm. Occasionally, the CPU rewarded her with one if she had been good, but after a day where she had been punished that seemed incredibly unlikely. Er leaned over and gave the whimpering girl a soft kiss on the lips out of consolation.

Meanwhile, Am turned over on her side and looked over the little shelf where what meager belongings she could call her own rested. On one of them was a notebook filled with whatever writing she could do when she had spare time. The pages were printed with short poems that expressed her feelings. Reading through them was occasionally jarring, especially when the feeling on one of the pages had been suppressed.

Near the end of the notebook was a page filled with names. Amelia. Amanda. Amara. Amelie. Amy. Ami. Amore. On and on with every name that began with those letters that she could think of. One of them had to have been her name once. One of them. She just couldn't remember which.

But, before the conversation could start up again, all three dolls heard a ping inside of their heads. Instantly, they all got drowsy and started crawling into their beds. Within a minute of the ping sounding, they'd all fallen into a deep slumber. A slumber where even their dreams were regulated by the house CPU.

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