Eccentric Hero & Dancing Girl Ch. 04-06

She took Lorenzo's arm and asked him to guide her to their quarters. Climbing down the ladder stairs to the main cabin backwards, Yoru was first to turn around to look in the canbin for her bunk. She stopped dead. When Lorenzo got down and saw what she saw, he skipped a breath. The scene was clearly the remnants of an orgy. Such evidence normally only consists of wine jars and condoms, with a few stains and dried semen here and there, but this time the scene was dominated by two limp bodies. They looked dead to Yoru.

"It's only the Doctor's doing," Lorenzo hastened to tell her, "They are on sleeping pills or something for seasickness."

"They're not breathing!"Yoru said.

The sculptress overheard them and dropped down into the cabin on top of the dolls through the skylight hatch. Lorenzo, shocked at the possibility of injury to the pretty women, assumed his combat stance. What the fuck?! Karl, who had crept down the ladder behind them, cowered in reaction to Lorenzo's imposing figure. He could shift into frightening things, but he was a lover, not a fighter.

"Come, my darling Yoru and dangerous Lorenzo," the Sculptress soothed, "I have an uncommon story in erotic history to tell you."

The Sculptress Myraka relates a strange tale

The Sculptress began the long story of how the dolls had evolved from mud to neurological magic, how they had been transformed into basically works of art, and how they had been trained to make love. And now it was clear the Doctor and his right-hand man doll Karl had been developing deviant behavior. The results, she waved an arm in the small cabin, were spread around them.

Somehow the Doctor had occupied Karl's body and mind and his own simultaneously, and both had done whatever they pleased with the 2 limp dolls. It was very distasteful. Myraka's sculptured darling-doll was one of the two girls strewn on the floor with arms and legs propped in the awkward angles of abandoned toys or corpses, their faces smeared with dried cum, pussy juice, and makeup. Myraka's neck blushed in rage, but she remained calm, since, after all, she told herself, they were just machines, pretty machines.

That they weren't real people hadn't sufficiently sunk into Yoru's mind yet, and she said, crying:

"They're nude, someone cover them up!"

"Enough theatrics, Doctor!"

As The Dancing Girl made it out of the breakwater into open sea, the Doctor set the automatic pilot and stuck his head in the hatch opening. Everyone looked up at him, the fiend who had left evidence of a double rape of unconscious women that had gone on until dawn. The Doctor snorted there was no such thing as nonconsensual sex with mere mechanical dolls, no matter how lovely they were. He demanded they all get over it and get back to work. They were at sea and he was their Captain.

Everyone kept looking at him as though they had seen a ghost. His evil spirit was there below, hanging among the twisted girls, and it seemed crude and unconscionable that he was acting like he was to be their leader. But he was.

"Don't be so damn judgmental," The Doctor said, and closed his eyes. He squinted and seemed to make the sounds of a man in the throes of a brain seizure, but it was just the sound the Doctor makes when cumming. He was the captain and he had written in his ship's log his intention of fucking the boatload of them, and had started stroking the minute they were out of sight of land.

"Let me show you what we got here on the floor. They look human, but they are not." He pushed through them and smeared some semen on both dolls cheeks.

Serene sat up and brushed herself off. She took Yoru's hand and asked her to help her stand up. Yoru hurried to straighten one of her legs that had been left twisted unnaturally at a break-bone angle, and pulled her up by both hands.

The Doctor said, "Thank you, Yoru, for helping ME stand up!"

"He's right, he's Serene," Lianne squeaked in her high toned voice, her throat evidently still a little clogged with love remnants, "and so am I." She still lay sprawled.

"Enough theatrics, Doctor!" Myraka was straining to keep from clawing him, but she had grown fond of him in spite of his oddities, and knew she needed him to keep her Lianne in good working order.

"Oh, no, no, not enough theatrics. Not yet!" The Doctor was a born showman, as well as a trained scientist and sailor.

Everyone knew at that moment that the Doctor could be considered insane, but they also realized he was a rather nice kind of crazy, very unusual, in a very erotic way. Even the dolls seemed to understand it.

Then, with a fanatic flourish, The Doctor swept his left arm dramatically to port.

"As long as we are laying our cards on the table, I must show you all another creation of mine!"

"Yoru, I give you... Yoru!"

It was a tumultuous moment. Myraka knew the Doctor was a genius of erotic design, but working on making the numerous genital shifts for Karl the Shape-shifter had been an eye-opener for her. Karl was an incomparable villain. But what she experienced when the Doctor asked her to make the Yoru doll went beyond her hottest fantasies. All the Doctor's dolls were superb, but the love doll making her way down the port side of the boat along the row of portholes lining the walls of the main cabin was nothing short of a cosmic combination of the divine and the devilish.

The real Yoru stood rooted as the elegant legs walked past her. She couldn't see the face or body, but they looked like her legs. The doll descended the ladder and turned around. It was Yoru's image down to her beauty spot.

Was it a clone? Why had they made it? Then she got it.

"Did you fuck this doll made to look like me?" Yoru asked the Doctor.

"I likely did," the Doctor said, smirking.

Yoru hit him before he even knew she was angry. It was a ringing, left jab that rattled the renowned brain cavity of the scientist dollmaker. With her training, she could have done far worse, but she was smiling as she knocked the Doctor down.

"I am the Captain of this ship!" Apparently the Doctor had been unaware of Yoru's training as a seductress assassin. She had automatically positioned her powerful right leg between the prone man's out-stretched, open thighs in case he wanted to mount a counterattack. The Art of War had been her guide since childhood, and his balls were hers now. H shut up.

His vague notion of rape had enraged her, and when she realized he had fucked her by proxy in her own Yoru Doll, she was both spurred to revenge and flattered.. Machines couldn't be raped? It was weird, but logical in a way, but them being limp had gone too far.

And she saw they had never made a doll resembling anyone else, so why her?

Yoru envisions a fun return romp to her orgy days

After this shocking confrontation with herself, Yoru was quick to get the concept of the love dolls. Myraka assured her she could control her own love doll, and make love with whomever she wished. She imagined the erotic potential, it hit her pussy in a manner of speaking, and she calmed down. A better way to describe her state of mind was that she got turned on by it. She was going to have a fun return romp to her orgy days, with the help of her own twin doll and the love dolls of her lovers.

She had never thought of orgying like that. It would be good.

"We made the sculpture of you very true to life, but she's so gorgeous it's almost frightening," Myraka explained. "Please don't be alarmed. When the Doctor asked me to sculpt the image of the most beautiful real life woman I knew, I kept seeing you in my mind's eye, and feeling you in my heart. I never dreamed we would meet again. I missed you every day and fantasized about you every night."

Yoru turned to the sculptress and murmured, "You fucked her, too."

The sculptress glanced at the Doctor, as if to say she had warned him, but didn't flinch or step back from Yoru. The two women and been lovers from their earliest sexual awakenings, and the one knew how the other had felt when she "fucked" Yoru's doll. It had been making love, not just sex, and Yoru knew that, too. Seeing the hurt and confusion in her girlfriend's eyes, Yoru weakened like the softening wax of an erect candle bending from burning too hot.

"We wanted you to control what your doll does. It's a gift from us for your inspiration." It was lame, but it was human.

"But doesn't she make your girlfriend doll Lianne jealous?" Lorenzo asked.

She is a machine, she doesn't get jealous

The sculptress Myraka turned to the warrior and explained it carefully again: "She is me, she is Yoru, she is a machine, a doll with miraculous properties, I admit, but still an object without any feelings that I do not possess myself!"

The Yoru Doll leaned against the ladder, a fully formed, unworldly beauty, and looked at the circle of people and dolls staring back at her. She quickly landed her gaze on Yoru, her human inspiration. The art that had gone into the Yoru Doll had evolved to be more than mere sculpture, for she blinked, once only, then lowered her head with humility and coquetterie, then resumed raising her eyelids, revealing dark mirrors in the moist half-moons to her complexly needy soul, and she gazed once more at the woman she loved.

Yoru blinked. She seemed to have glimpsed into the doll's soul. Yoru surmised at once what the doll's eyes were saying: "I want to have sex with you." It was in her programming, but it seemed sincere, more than machinery.

Four hands on Yoru's pussy

"It will be like making love to myself," Yoru mused aloud, "like standing, no longer solitary, in a garden of colorful blossoms that are transforming before my eyes in the springtime, bursting bulbs of new love, as though the earth had lent me empathetic power to share the love songs of the birds and fragrances of the flowers in their dances of mass pollination. I will become a twosome at your hands, sweet doll, four hands on my pussy, two tongues in my mouth for kisses redoubled, everything twice until it grows beyond us."

Yoru stopped in her dreamlike state, tore her locked eyes from the Yoru doll, and looked at her friend the sculptress Myraka and asked point blank: "Will such a love doll made of both art and science not take on a life of its own?"

I programmed her to grow a little more human

Yoru was right. The sculptress had misjudged the Doctor, who had kept many secrets from her. He could be faulted for much evil, but not for miscalculation. The love dolls weren't just objects "without any feelings their operators did not possess." The love dolls grew feelings, too. Yoru guessed it instinctively and said it.

The Doctor cut her off, blurting his confession:

"Odd, but you made me want to do it, Yoru. It was when I was making your doll. I love the idea of it. I programmed her to grow a little more human every time she makes love."

They were all struck silent. The Yoru doll sighed.

(To be continued as follows:)

The Eccentric Hero and the Dancing Girl: (7. The Shibari Orgies)

The Eccentric Hero and the Dancing Girl: (8. A Cheek-to-Cheek Kind of Love Affair)