The Living Doll – Chapter 3

Tom Hiddleston Fan Fiction by Nova

Before I could even nod off a little, my phone rang, pulling me back from the edge of nothingness that sleep would’ve brought to me. I grabbed it.

“Tom!” The voice said as I tried to sputter out a hello.

“Yeah?” I said, not recognizing the voice.

“It’s Jerry, listen, I’ve got a few more scripts to send to your agent, there are some good projects in there that pay well enough.” The voice said.

“Okay, so what’s the problem then? Why call me?” I asked.

There was a long pause.

He probably lost the contact information.

I glanced over at the doll. Thankfully she hadn’t spoken aloud this time.

“I lost the contact information.” He said sheepishly.

I gave Jerry the contact info and said goodbye before hanging up. With that, I got up and headed to my bedroom. I grabbed a shower, shaved, and changed into some sleeping clothing. I got into bed, glancing out to the Livingroom where the doll still sat. I chuckled to myself. I really needed to get some sleep. The very idea of a talking doll that had come to life was ridiculous. I laid back down, putting my head on the pillow and was out like a light.

Sure I was going to bed early, but it had been a long day… week… month actually. I kept telling myself that I needed to unwind, that I needed to relax and get some rest, and that I was getting burnt out.

I awoke the next day to find the doll… naked… on top of me… with the taste of silicone sex toy in my mouth… my mid-section covered in dried seed, and my dick still deep inside the doll’s synthetic snatch. My head was pounding as if I had drank a bottle of the good stuff.

“Well, this is quite the situation.” I whispered to myself.

I rolled the doll off me, pulling my dick from it’s dried out pussy. I looked around after to see my lotion bottle, along with a bottle of Hershey’s syrup, and an empty bottle of my good scotch laying on the ground next to the bed. I quickly pieced together that I had gotten black out drunk and decided to use the doll for it’s primary purpose. I sighed. Now I’d have to clean not only myself up, but also the doll. I pulled myself out of bed, and found my phone. Quickly using google, I searched up standard cleaning methods to get the doll clean. I had never had one before, nor had any toys of this nature. I had always been simplistic in that department. My hand, or a lady friend would be enough. Coming back into the room and looking at the doll, I realized that maybe I had to change my view on that. The doll just laid there, with it’s knees bent as if I had made it ride me.

It was wonderful last night, even if you were drunk.

“That was a mistake.” I said to it. “You weren’t given to me for me to be screwing you.”

Oh, then what was I given to you for?

“You were supposed to be a symbol of strength for that poor little girl who got into a dark place. The symbol of her pulling thru and moving on with her life. A symbol of thanks for me helping with that.” I told it.

And symbols like that aren’t meant to be screwed, even if they’re sex dolls?

I finally found the article I was looking for and read it over. It was fairly simple. I could use soap and water. Baby powder after would coat it and let it stay fresh.

“Sex doll or not, it wasn’t right for me to defile you.” I said.

I walked over to the bed and adjusted its legs. I then carried it into the shower. I might as well get clean along with the thing. I still couldn’t believe that I had screwed the thing, but then again, considering I was still imagining it talking to me, it wasn’t that farfetched of a thought.