The Doll Collector

She yawned as she opened her heavy eyelids. She stretched her arms and legs until they tingled and looked around her room. Sunlight filtered in through the drawn curtain covering her window. Her room was rather small, neatly decorated with dolls of various shapes, styles, and sizes. Each doll had their own little house, complete with a carefully manicured lawn and a miniature car. Some even had miniature pets! She loved and adored each one, carefully planning out their lives. Sometimes she wished they could love her back, sometimes she thought they did.

On her bedside table sat one of her dolls, a new favorite. He stood about one foot tall, brunette doll with a modest bulge and a humble, if somewhat suggestive, smile. His hard plastic skin was dimmed with a tan and he wore a clingy, provocative pair of boxer shorts. She picked him up and slowly moved him across her body, starting from her waistline. As she moved him up towards her heavy breasts, she noticed a lacking feeling. Nothing she could place her finger on, but something she had felt before. She rubbed him over her delicate pink nipples and they hardened. She sighed and played with him for a while before holding him up to her face.

"Good morning, Adam," she said. His glossy brown eyes stared back at her blankly. She sighed again as her smile faded. It just wasn't the same anymore. She no longer felt the same sensations, the same fluttering in her heart when she looked at him. She ran her fingers over his bulge and felt nothing. She placed him in between her breasts and he disappeared in her cleavage. She left him there, squeezing him. The cold plastic warmed against her skin and she felt content, but not satisfied.

She sighed again as she got out of bed. She looked around at her dolls,each going about their daily lives. Each doll was special, unique, with their own names and meanings. They each had their own little families and jobs. She walked slowly around the room, inspecting each of her precious possessions. Adam clung to her breasts as her nipples brushed against a few of the dolls and their houses.

“Hello Madame Rolear, how are you today?” She peered into a small pink cottage, lined with white lilies and a small picket fence. The doll, a short, stout woman of eighty-three, was sitting on her small green couch reading her favorite issue of Dolls Magazine. “Anything interesting in the serial today?” The doll did not respond, except in her mind. “Wow, that does sound interesting!”

She moved on down the neighborhood to a blue ranch house with a nice yard. Here, the Thompsons were outside enjoying the nice weather. Mr. Thompson was out back cooking hot dogs on the grill. His two kids, Jimmy and Sally, were playing catch with their dog, Lucy. The Collector stared at them for a while and smiled contentedly.

“What’s that, Mr. Thompson?” she moved his head around so he was looking up at her, or more specifically, at her exposed nipples. “Oh, Mr. Thompson! How dare you suggest such a thing! You’re lucky your wife passed away, otherwise there would be consequences. In front of the kids, really!”

She moved on down the lane to the next house, a brick Victorian with white pillars. She felt Adam shuffle a bit in her bosom and she looked down at him. His vacant expression met hers.

“You like this house?” she gestured toward the vacant home. “You will have to earn it then, love.” She removed him from her breasts and lifted her panty line. She tucked him into her panties, right up against her clit. She wiggled him around until he began to slide in between her lips. “Yeah, honey. Right there. Now you stay there for a few days and we’ll see if you will get that house. Move, and I’ll have to do something neither of us will enjoy.” As if the doll understood, it stayed in place. His legs and feet sliding in and out of her hole with every step she took. His plastic face nuzzled against her labia and his arms rubbed her clit.

She strapped on a red lace bra that pushed her ample breasts up and together, just barely revealing her nipples. She then pulled on a tight gray shirt and some jeans that made her butt pop. The jeans really helped keep Adam in place, pressed right up against her pussy, just where she needed him. He rubbed her with each step she took as she exited her bedroom.

The hallway was narrow and short, with a bathroom on one end and a staircase on the other. She went over to the bathroom and brushed her long, blonde hair. She brushed her teeth and applied some cherry red lip gloss. She smiled at herself in the mirror, staring into her reflection’s seafoam green eyes. Briskly, she walked down the hall and descended the staircase, each step threatening to take Adam’s dream home from him.

She reached the landing and stepped into the kitchen. The back door was made of wood with a square pane of glass. She peered outside into the alleyway. On the doorstep lay a small bag of groceries she had ordered the night before. She opened the door, looked both ways down the alley, and scooped the bag up quickly. She scurried back inside and over to her fridge, which when opened revealed a sad amount of condiments and not much else. She sighed and put the contents of the bag on one of the many empty shelves: some, milk, cheese, sliced ham, and a roast for dinner. She placed the sliced bread and eggs on the counter next to the stove and put oil into a frying pan.

After she made a few eggs and ate her fill, she placed everything in the sink and moved on down the hallway, which took a sharp turn towards the front of the building. The hallway opened up to a small showroom lined with bookshelves. On each shelf was a small collection of specially curated dolls, both made by her and procured from other stores and collectors. She walked slowly through the showroom, breathing in all the different scents from the dolls’ materials. She felt a sensation of peace and happiness wash over her as she flipped the sign on her door to read OPEN.