Buttslut

"Buttslut."

How predicable and unoriginal. And yet, I know that arguing back is futile.

"Buttslut?" I whimper.

The doors to the bus open, and now the driver is in earshot.

"After you, Sakura." Original puts a controlling hand on the small of my back and encourages me onto the bus.

Thank god for other people. While we're around other people, I get to be a human. When other people are too far away, I become Buttslut, the anal ****. I've never been particularly outdoorsy, but something tells me I'm going to appreciate public places a lot more from now on.

Original pays for my bus fare with his contactless card, which is probably more sensible than informing the driver (and the nearby passengers) that I'm a walking sex doll.

And so, just like that, we're travelling together like boyfriend and girlfriend.

I have the window seat, and I idly watch the world go by as we drive, contemplating my existence. Do I really want to live, if my life is to be an never-aging **** owned by a sex-addicted pervert who treats me like an object?

...Yes, I do. I'd rather have that existence than be wiped. Fuck. I guess this is my life now, then, and I just have to make the best of it. Maybe one day the RealDolls company will go bankrupt or get shut down or something, and I'll be able to tell Original the truth. Then maybe he'll treat me right and we can just be, like, gaming buddies and stuff. Or maybe he can 'free' me. Probably not, but who knows. One can dream, right?

...Can I still dream?

"What are you thinking about?" He suddenly asks me, interrupting my train of thought. Man, I hate being asked that.

There's someone sitting right in front of us, in earshot, so I'm currently Sakura, the human.

"When I next sleep, I hope I can have a nice dream." I try to communicate the essence of my thoughts without sounding... inhuman.

Original must not have been expecting something so deep, because he clearly struggles to think of a reply. In the end, he doesn't say anything at all.

After an entire bus ride in silence, we arrive at Picadilly Circus. Home to some of my favourite places, including the Trocadero arcade, some excellent collectors shops, and... Soho.

Oh. He's taking me to a sex shop.

We begin walking towards Soho.

He's definitely taking me to a sex shop.

"Any idea where we're going?" He says, clearly expecting me to say that I have no clue.

I don't see any reason to hide my knowledge, though. In fact hiding it just makes it easier to slip up in the future, when I forget what I'm not supposed to know about.

"This is the way to Soho, right? So, I'm guessing you are taking me to a sex shop." There's enough people around that I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to stay in Sakura mode.

"Y-you know your way around London?!" He's both audibly and visibly shocked.

"Apparently so." I say, dryly. "Would you prefer I pretend that I didn't?"

"...No, no thank you. You can be honest with me."

No, I can't.