Please see the legal stuff.
This story should be considered Rated R for nudity and sexual situations. It's also ASFRish in the mannequin and robot senses.
This story may be freely posted on any appropriate website, so long as the author is informed and given due credit.
I live in the valley of the dolls.
Don't ask me who I am, or how I came to be here. It doesn't matter. Someday I'll forget myself, and it still won't matter. My life means nothing, no more than my dolls. I exist only to exist, and as far as I know, they exist only for me, and that is all I need.
No... perhaps I need one thing more. To be known. And so I choose to confide in you, for my own reasons. Listen if you like, but expect nothing. I may not tell a story. I may not tell the truth. I will tell what I choose to tell. Believe if you like. Listen if you care.
My home is in a valley. A river runs through the center of my valley, deep enough in parts to swim; shallow enough in others to walk across. My house is on the north bank. I don't know whether I could return to what I sometimes call "the real world," outside the valley. I'm not the only person who lives here, but I never see the others. I think something keeps us from stumbling across one another. I'm just as glad it does.
But there are the dolls. They look like people, but they aren't. I call them dolls, but they're really more like mannequins - the kind you see in the windows of clothing shops at the mall. Made of something that looks like plastic, shaped and painted to look like human beings, all beautiful. But unlike the mannequins in the real world, these can come to life.
They're not all the same. Some of them come to life only when I want them to. Others seem to move or freeze randomly. Some, when they are alive, do nothing but what I tell them; others seem to have a personality and a will of their own. Of the latter, some are forced to obey my every command; others seem to obey me willingly; and others are able to do whatever they choose. I don't know what causes the differences, and I don't ask.
I walk down the shore of the river. A blonde is swimming in the river - probably Lisa. She and Heather are the only ones who like to swim, and I've left Heather frozen in the house. Catherine is sitting on the shore, watching the swimmer. She's a lovely dark-haired girl with the prettiest blue eyes and lovely breasts, always cheerful and smiling, and happy to serve me however I want. I will her back to her mannequin form, and with a barely-perceptible shimmer, she changes.
I approach her from the side. She may not even know I'm here - Catherine sometimes freezes when I don't make her, although I've never known her to come to life spontaneously. I like looking at the girls when they don't know I'm there -- although there isn't anything they could do about it as mannequins anyway.
She's wearing a pretty blue two-piece swimsuit. She stares out at Lisa in the river, clearly enjoying watching the other girl enjoy herself. I approach her, sit down next to her, and stroke her exposed midriff, looking at her unblinking eyes. I reach up and touch her face, brushing her stiff eyelashes with one finger. After a moment, I will her back to life.
"Hi!" she greets me. "I had a feeling you were there."
"I enjoy looking at you."
"And feeling me, too." She takes my hand and presses it against her breast. Her cool skin is perfectly smooth, perfectly curved. Her face offers to kiss me, and I don't turn down the offer -- did I mention Catherine has very nice lips, too? She doesn't kiss very well, as it happens, but it feels nice all the same.
It occurs to me to make love to her, but not seriously. I'm not in the mood for sex just now. I stand up to go.
"That's all?" Catherine asks. Perhaps she's offended, but she'll forget it soon enough, I know.
"That's all," I say, continuing on my way.
Usually I review and revise and polish and edit my stories before posting them. Not so with this one. I may revise later, but for now, this is what it is, pretty much right off the fingers. I'm writing this because I'm in the mood to write, but not in the mood to plan... so take this for what it is.
If you feel like writing your own chapters set in the Valley, feel free. Write about one of the "other people" in the Valley, or take the perspective of one of the mannequins if you like. My only request is, try not to disturb the continuity I'm writing. No big overarching plots, don't change the rules of the world in a way that affects my narrator, stuff like that. Oh, and let me know you're doing it. Fan mail is great.
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