Life continues, but now with 2B

She squirmed at the sound of the alarm. You turned it off.

Thursday. Even with a Love Doll, waking up for school was a hassle.

Your Doll raises her head and looks from side to side, just like the first time she woke up. But now, instead of running and screaming, looks at her crotch.

You look at it too. Amidst the pre-dawn darkness, you can make out her sheet pulled up in a very, very particular way.

A giant pillar forces the sheet to mold to its shape. You knew this phenomenon by the name of morning wood.

She lifted the sheet a little so she could see it. You couldn't do it from your angle, only imagine what details that huge erect phallus might have. You envied her.

With her other hand, she rubbed one of her breasts and sniffed her fingers. She gave her nipple a light squeeze, and you managed to see the glisten of a drop of milk slide down the curve. Her breasts had filled during the night.

She dropped the blanket and tried to hide the shapes of her cock and breasts from your view, and then gave you a look that judged you as a complete degenerate pervert.

"You're not going to make me accompany you to school, are you?" she asked.

"Good morning to you too. And no, not today."

She raised an eyebrow, "Not today?"

"I'll explain when I get back."

She returned to her sleeping position.

You got dressed and did your normal routine for school. At some point, 2B started following you with her eyes. Cute. You smiled at her but she didn't smile back. As you were about to go downstairs for breakfast, you said:

"It's going to be quite a few hours and I don't want you to get bored, so I'll deactivate you, but I'll wake you up as soon as I get back."

"Uhmm... Okay. Please don't do anything to me while I'm gone."

"****, unfortunately, is not on my list of kinks, my dear."

She looked at you distrustfully.

"See you in a bit. Deactivate."

When you left your room, you locked the door.

Just in case.

Your classmates were supposed to receive their Love Dolls this week. Some had received theirs as early as Monday, and you were thankful you hadn't gotten yours until Friday. You listened to those who already had theirs boast that they had already fucked them. They couldn't help but describe how good it felt, and you couldn't help but cringe at them.

You worried about gently coercing your Doll and your damn classmates enjoying not having made any effort to fuck.

Those who don't have a chance are the ones forcing sex, you thought.

However, you admitted to yourself that your own situation wasn't going quite right. Rather than turning her into a perfect submissive wife, it looks like you're going to be playing "kidnapper simulator"_ _for a while. A Love Doll better be able to develop Stockholm syndrome, because if not... maybe you're screwed. Maybe.

If you fail to convince her, maybe you'll end up <<**** her>>. But she's not human. Only flesh beings have the right to be ****.

And at the end of the day, what is the impediment to not using the sex toy properly, no matter how much its programming simulates suffering, or expresses that <<she doesn't want to>>, that <<she doesn't like it>>?

None at all. It depends on the owner, the client, the consumer.

And yet, in your very classroom they brag about how tight and delicious their Doll’s holes are. Even they, who are risking their note.

Oh Alexandra, they don't deserve you.

You arrived home. Your parents were eating. Your mother asked when they could meet the Doll. You replied that soon, that you will get her clothes first. Hopefully, today.

She must know how to take female body measurements, right?

“Activate.”

2B blinked a couple of times, then acknowledged you.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"So... did you sleep well?" you asked.

"Well... I’ve slept better."

"Well, you could have slept better."

"You think so?"

"I do."

You took off your uniform to put on your pajamas, because walking around in pajamas is the most comfortable way to be at home. She covered her view with the blanket to avoid seeing you in underwear. "You can see," you told her, "I don't mind." She didn't react.

Once you were in your home attire, went for your laptop and invited her to sit on the bed. She did. Then you said, while turning on your device:

"It's time to talk about the purpose of your existence. Make yourself comfortable."

She leaned some pillows on the wall, where you both settled in. You opened the document LaVerne sent.

"This is the rubric for the exam you were created for," you set the laptop on her lap, "please read it out loud."

With diction worthy of a docent, she began:

"The Family Studies course expects to provide the student with the knowledge-"

"Skip that, it's all school blah blah blah. What we're interested in is below."

She scrolled. You pointed to the screen:

"There, read that."

"Students are expected to bring their subject to class every Friday for an interview presentation about the progress of their relationship. A computer equipped with neural monitoring software will be employed by the teacher to determine whether... a subject is telling... the truth about their experiences... Wait..." You were surprised at how quickly you had become accustomed to that look of concern from her. "He can't..."

You nodded gently.

The Doll sighed, with such resignation that it filled the entire room. "You know? And when I woke up I hoped this was all a nightmare."

You shrugged without malice. She read on:

"The goal of the exam is to form a patriarchal family unit with the subject..."

"Yeah, that's the boring part again. Go to the percentages better."

"Alright... 50% of the grade is based on whether or not I have sex with you."

"That won't be a problem."

For a second, she looked at you with fire in her eyes. If she could hit you she probably would have done it right then and there. You decided to curtail your comments. 2B continued, her voice tone a bit louder:

"Up to 10% for 'Breeding' - whether the subject is pregnant on the final day of class, and how visible said pregnancy is to a casual observer..." She hid her face with a hand and muttered, "God... Fucking... Dammit..."

"Disable reproductive capabilities," you said. Useful command you'd only use once. She looked at you, sighed with relief and let out a nervous chuckle. Then continued reading:

"Up to 10% for 'Domestication' - the subject's willingness to perform tasks for her student." She turned her head upward closing her eyes for a few seconds, as if gathering strength to continue. "Up to 10% for 'Adventurousness' - the subject's willingness to have lewd or unpleasant things done to her. Up to 10% for 'Exhibitionism' - the subject's willingness to share herself with the class." She closed the laptop quickly and looked at you shedding tears, because you couldn't tell she was crying, she was simply shedding tears, "oh... God... I'm totally fucked up, aren't I?"

"Not totally," you say, trying to reassure her. "I have no intention of sharing you with anyone. We can quietly dismiss the breeding and exhibitionism sections. It's not so bad. I hope that once we fuck..."

"<<Once we fuck>>..." She interrupts you in choked rage, "and you assume that I'm going to want to have sex with you, just because I have this body, just because I can't get away from you, just because I think... I think my will still matters..." And then collapses. She lets out in a waterfall of tears all the feelings she was trying to hold back, to hide from you. She puts the laptop aside and pulls her knees to her chest, crying in a curled up position, covering her face.

You gently slide your hand into hers, take it and bring it to one of your knees, intertwine your fingers between. She looks up at you with flooded eyes; no longer with fury or contempt, but only dismay. You interpret that she looks to you for hope, for a way out, for oblivion, for anything that will make her feel better.

"Hey... Let's do this: today I'll buy you clothes. And tomorrow I'll take you out to dinner, is that okay?"

She nods slowly. You let her cry for a few more moments, but then you say:

"Can I hug you?"

She looks at you, then at the bed. She thinks about it. Her gaze returns to you. And nods weakly.

Then you approach and wrap her in your arms. She hides her face. You hear her cry contained in her own body.

Progress?