Lauriel’s hazy eyes track the doll’s motions with great pleasure, enjoying the flexing complexity of her crafted feet and the smooth waterfall of hair that falls down her back. The lifelikeness of the doll is a marvel that has a small part of her mind itching for pen and paper, to take notes and sketches of the wonder of craftsmanship she’s been blessed to find here.
It’s a very small part of her however, the rest is consumed with the desire to appreciate that craftsmanship in a far more physical manner.
Lauriel tries to wiggle at first, to help the doll undress her, but quickly finds that relaxing into her touch and letting the doll do her task is a much easier and far more pleasurable way of letting this happen. Letting out small sighs of pleasure as the doll brushes over her sensitive chest, the blush on her cheeks spreading down it.
When her coat is laid down, her fingers subconsciously shift over when she stretches to let the doll pull her boots of. She reaches for the hidden pistol, and relaxes the tension she hadn’t noticed she’d gained when her coat was removed. Her mind instead remains focused on watching the dolls deft fingers unlace her boots, and feeling her body warm and a pulse rush through her as cool and soft fingers brush over sensitive soles when she strips away her stockings.
The doll’s gentle speech brushes away Lauriel’s fear, soothing it as she means it too, the reminder that the doll isn’t a person who can get ‘carried away’, the doll is a masterwork tool made to comfort and please others. (Or so she claims, but Lauriel finds the thought comforting, and pulls it deep into her heart). She takes the dolls hand that’s brushing across her chest and pulls it closer, pressing it firmly against her skin with a soft sigh of pleasure.
“Be firm, be deliberate and… don’t go too fast.” She murmurs, moving the doll’s hand in a pantomime caress of her chest, over sensitive nipples with a bitten lip and a pleasurable shudder. “You may touch me…” she gestures between her legs where the doll is resting, stumbling to find the right words and trusting the doll not to need them. “But I am very sensitive. Be careful with me.”
Breathy and shot through with arousal and desire, but she manages to keep her voice firmly in the realm of “Instructions”, tone unwavering and instructive.
Even if she is, sometimes it's just what her owner needs, and the doll loves to meet her needs
It’s a very small part of her however, the rest is consumed with the desire to appreciate that craftsmanship in a far more physical manner.
Lauriel tries to wiggle at first, to help the doll undress her, but quickly finds that relaxing into her touch and letting the doll do her task is a much easier and far more pleasurable way of letting this happen. Letting out small sighs of pleasure as the doll brushes over her sensitive chest, the blush on her cheeks spreading down it.
When her coat is laid down, her fingers subconsciously shift over when she stretches to let the doll pull her boots of. She reaches for the hidden pistol, and relaxes the tension she hadn’t noticed she’d gained when her coat was removed. Her mind instead remains focused on watching the dolls deft fingers unlace her boots, and feeling her body warm and a pulse rush through her as cool and soft fingers brush over sensitive soles when she strips away her stockings.
The doll’s gentle speech brushes away Lauriel’s fear, soothing it as she means it too, the reminder that the doll isn’t a person who can get ‘carried away’, the doll is a masterwork tool made to comfort and please others. (Or so she claims, but Lauriel finds the thought comforting, and pulls it deep into her heart). She takes the dolls hand that’s brushing across her chest and pulls it closer, pressing it firmly against her skin with a soft sigh of pleasure.
“Be firm, be deliberate and… don’t go too fast.” She murmurs, moving the doll’s hand in a pantomime caress of her chest, over sensitive nipples with a bitten lip and a pleasurable shudder. “You may touch me…” she gestures between her legs where the doll is resting, stumbling to find the right words and trusting the doll not to need them. “But I am very sensitive. Be careful with me.”
Breathy and shot through with arousal and desire, but she manages to keep her voice firmly in the realm of “Instructions”, tone unwavering and instructive.