Chapter 2
Over the next few days, I watched him go through the clothing and
accessories that had accompanied me: sorting, cataloging, and trying to
co-ordinate outfits. He did this with such single-mindedness; that I
was beginning to think he was ignoring me. His expression, every time
he came up with a combination he really liked, told me that he was not
ignoring me. He just wanted me to feel and look as pretty as possible.
He seemed to be well versed in this process, as though he had done it
many times before. I could also tell that he was making a mental list
of what clothing he wanted to get. He can be a real stickler at times.
Finally! I get some attention after almost a week. He seemed to have a
bit more trouble taking the pink outfit off than he had putting it on
me. I wish I could have helped, although he did seem to have fun
undressing me. Don’t tell him I said this, but he likes to pinch
my butt and nipples occasionally.
He put this cute romper-type dress on me and took more pictures. Some
of them in front of the computer he calls K2 (the second computer in
his office) but most of them in his media room. It is a
big room for someone as small as I am. It was then I discovered that he
likes upskirt and downblouse pictures. Did I mention he likes
exhibitionistic fems too? Is this guy going to be a bit too bizarre for
my tastes? He must have heard that though because he told me that that
was one of the definitions of “B”. So, to coin a phrase he coined; “How
bizarre, how bizarre.”
I wasn’t sure what he had planned as that was the first time he
had not fully dressed me. Of course, it was only the second time he had
dressed me.
I was going to get to sleep with him that night. I was excited and
nervous, at the same time. How was he going to react? Would he be
pleased? Disappointed? Indifferent? I knew so little about him… too
little; despite all the times he had spoken (thought) to me.
Night finally got here. He had put me in his waterbed earlier that
afternoon. It was nice and warm. It was a little after two o’clock in
the morning (02:00 to him; he prefers a 24-hour clock) when he came to
bed. What followed was quite startling. He fondled me a bit then just
hugged me for the longest time. I think he was remembering how he and K
used to sleep. Eventually, he fell asleep, his arms around me, his nose
nuzzling my neck.
I’m not sure what happened that night. The next morning, he put me back
in the wheelchair. Did I not meet his expectations? Was I not what he
wanted? Did he feel guilty about sleeping with someone who was not K?
Did he feel guilty about sleeping with a doll? So many questions… so
few answers. He wheeled me to the office and placed me in front of K2,
then signed-on to B6 (I was starting to learn his lingo). Maybe he
understood my confusion, because he assured me that the answer to all
my questions was “no”. I was not a disappointment; he wouldn’t have
gotten me if he didn’t want me; he did not feel guilty that we had
slept together. Okay… what was it then?
He explained that, for the time being, my only responsibility was to
help him feel less lonely, less alone, less empty. Well, if that’s all
I have to do, for now, how hard can that be? That is when I began to
realize that sitting in front of K2 was a position of honor, in memory
of his beloved K.
I just sat there for the rest of the day content in the knowledge that my new human, B, was comforted by my presence.
We did not sleep together that night. I didn’t know why. Even though he
kept telling me that it wasn’t me, I guess I just wasn’t secure enough
to take what he said at “face value” (although I learned later that I
could). Maybe I reminded him too much of K. Maybe I wasn’t enough like
K. Maybe he will tell me in the future. In any event, it would be
several weeks before I got to sleep with him again.
