Chapter Text
The Sincerest Form Of Flattery
When the box arrived on his doorstep, Ben breathed a sigh of relief at the discreet packaging and rushed to bring it into his home. He grabbed a pair of scissors and opened the box on the floor of his living room. He reached into the box and pulled the thing out. Grimacing in disgust, he unfolded it, stretched it out to it's full length and inspected it while kneeling next to it. What the fuck had he done? He was angry at himself for spending so much money on such a revolting thing. The more he thought about it the more his anger grew but not at himself. He became angry at his therapist, the coffee shop owner, his parents, the people he used to work for and with and every one night stand he ever had. They all played a part in this monstrosity. They had all pushed him to this pathetic place in his life. He was now the owner of a full size sex doll, complete with three holes.
Leaning over he examined the face closely, the shiny, slutty red lips, the frosted blue eyeshadow over the too-bright blue eyes, rosey blushed cheeks and the plastic blond hair. She was a grotesque joke of an imitation of a woman. All of her skin was the same pale skin tone even her nipples and vulva. She was a life size naked Barbie with holes and nothing about her was appealing. His first idea was to send her back but the thought of having to talk to someone in customer service about why he was unsatisfied with his purchase was just too much to go through. He picked it up and was going to put it away in his work room when he noticed that her breasts jiggled a bit while he carried her down the hall. That's interesting, his cock thought. He walked past his work room to his bedroom and dumped her onto his bed. He began to talk to himself.
I spent a lot of money on this. I haven't gotten laid in three years. I'm a grown up and I can have sex with this thing if I want to. I'm not hurting anyone. Lots of men do this. This is okay.
He took off all of his clothes and laid down next to the doll. Running his hand over the silicone breasts he leaned into it and smelled the hair and neck of the doll. It smelled like plastic. He ran his hand down the body to the sex of the doll. It was cold, dry and hairless. It was all wrong and his cock knew it, as it rested limp against his thigh. He got up and put his sleep pants on, relieved in a way that he couldn't have sex with a doll. It's not why he purchased it anyway. He bought the thing so he could practice talking to people again, because after isolating himself for the last three years he couldn't make conversations like a normal human. He had practiced role playing with his therapist and it helped. She would be him and he would be his mother and together they would have a typical conversation. The therapist showed him how he could maintain his composure while talking to his mother. His therapist taught him to use words like ,"I feel like ***** when you *****." She taught him how to assertively have a discussion with the only woman who always knew how to upset him. His therapist had encouraged him to keep practicing having conversations at home but he found that just talking to imaginary people was difficult for him. But, it was a conversation he overheard in the coffee shop that made him think of buying a doll. The owner, Poe, had asked his waitress, Rey, a question that had burned into his memory. "Hey, Doll, can you grab a tray of muffins from the back and put them into the display case?"
Damn that man for being able to talk so casually to his waitress. His beautiful, friendly, kind, smart, funny, dream-of-a-woman waitress. It was his once a week treat to go to that damn coffee shop to get waited on by Rey.
He picked the thing up, carrying it under his arm like a football to his work room and laid it on his work table. He decided that if he couldn't return it then he would just make the best of it. He grabbed a straight blade and began to carefully cut each of the hundreds of threads that held the horrible plastic hair on the head. Once that was completed he found his paint thinner and a rag and completely removed all of the gaudy colors from the doll's face until it was a blank canvas. Next he took out his long forgotten paints and brushes and began to reconstruct a real face.
He mixed yellow and blue until he made the perfect shades of green and picked out his finest and thinnest brush and began to color the eyes of the doll. Next he put a dab of red paint on his pallet and blended it with some of the green to make warm shades of brown for the eyes. Black was added for the pupils and white as a reflection of light until he had painted two beautiful hazel eyes. Then he mixed more red with brown and a dot of white to make the perfect natural lip color and he painted the lips. He used the same color on the nipples and labia. With shades of red and pink he finished the inner sex of the doll. Back at the face he painted on eyebrows and thin eyelashes in a dark brown and then added some white and dusted the nose and cheeks with tiny freckles. Sitting back, he admired his work and thought it was a huge improvement. He brought his brushes to the kitchen sink to clean them and then sat on his couch in front of the TV. He pulled his cell from his pocket and looked at wigs made of real hair until he found the perfect one and ordered it. It cost more than the doll had but he was all in now.
The next day was Tuesday, his favorite day of the week. It was coffee shop day. He had found the shop out of desperation one morning when his coffee machine at home died. Then he just kept coming every Tuesday to see the waitress. His therapist had suggested that he needed to get out of his house more, that he should treat himself to something nice at least once a week. The waitress was nice, always smiled and always had a kind greeting for him.
This late morning visit was his ninth and spring showers dripped from his hair when he sat down in his usual spot by the front window. He took off his jacket and hung it on the back of his chair and when he turned back to the table there she was grinning down at him.
"You, sir, need a brolly,"
"What?"
"An umbrella, you know, to keep your lovely hair dry in this weather," she said with a nervous smile, blushing. He looked at the soft flush blooming across her face and down her neck and all he could think about was how far did the beautiful colors go down her body and how he was going to have to change the entire pigmentation of his doll's skin. He was so lost in his thoughts he forgot to answer her and he could see her getting uncomfortable as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other and fiddled with her waitressing apron.
"Would you like your usual, just coffee?" She asked softly.
His mind finally stepped up and allowed him to speak. "Yes please, and you're right, about the umbrella. I always forget to bring one." Then he added, "You know what? I think I'll try one of your muffins today".
He watched as her big smile lit up the gloomy day.
"Oh, today we have three different muffins. There's blueberry, lemon poppy seed and my favorite, cranberry orange with walnuts,"
"I'll try the cranberry one please."
"Coming right up," she said happily as she turned away from him.
She returned moments later with his order and placed his coffee and plate with a large muffin next to him, carefully, as he was using napkins to dry off his sketchbook.
"Are you an artist?"
"Yes"
"That's interesting. What is your specialty?"
"Oh, um, well, I'm a graphic designer, as my job. I basically work from home on my computer but I like to sketch and paint in my free time," he said, opening his sketchbook to show her a sketch he had completed weeks ago. It was a scene from outside the coffee shop window.
"Wow, that's really excellent. You're very talented."
Blushing, he remembered his therapist telling him he needed to accept compliments without adding self deprecating comments. It was still difficult after so many years of feeling unappreciated and incompetent, due to his previous employer.
"Thank you," he whispered. Then the door to the shop opened and Rey was off to serve them.
She returned later to refill his cup and stood there next to him watching his hand weld his pencil across the paper.
"I wish I was artistic like you," she said in awe.
"You paint," he said looking up at her confused expression. "You paint your nails a different color every week," he blurted out and then felt embarrassed by his own words.
She laughed,"I only do that so they won't break and because my hands are so ugly from being overworked."
Looking at her hands as she clutched the coffee pot he said,"Working hands have their own kind of beauty. They show strength and character and you should feel proud of that."
There it was again. The amazing spreading change of the pigment of her skin. He wanted to study it so he could translate it into paint. She smiled and thanked him as she returned to her job.
When he got home he tore through his work room searching for the perfect tool for his next project. When he finally found his paint sprayer and the ultra fine nozzle he had formed a color plan in his mind. He mixed paints until he made the exact shade of Rey's skin tone, a peachy warm tan. He spayed the tint over the doll from the neck down and then applied it to the face by hand. When the front was dry he carefully flipped the doll over and sprayed the backside. Then he cleaned up and did his actual job until late in the evening. After, he heated up leftovers and sat alone at his kitchen table and ate his dinner. He reviewed his conversations with Rey in his mind.
Did she really say my hair is lovely or did I imagine it? This week her nails were periwinkle blue and last week they were a melon-orange and the week before they were a sunshine yellow. Does she really not know how beautiful she is? Has no one ever told her? How could that be? She must have a boyfriend. But how could any boyfriend not tell her everyday how beautiful she is? She said I'm talented. I wonder what she would think of the doll. Probably she would be horrified. God, I'm such a creep.
By the end of the week he had finished painting the doll. He had added a thousand details to the skin including, freckles, the small scar on her face, darker accents to knees and elbows, and finally a beautiful blush over her face, neck and down to her chest just shy of her breasts. Then he painted the finger and toenails a frosty blue. He sealed the paint with a clear finish. He talked to the doll the entire time without even realizing it. He had an entire conversation about what kind of clothes she would like to wear, and another one about her fingernails and what kind of nail polish she used. Did she ever get them done in a salon, like his mother? By Monday evening he had spent hours talking to his doll and had ordered items from Victoria's Secret for it.
At the coffeeshop he took his usual spot and waited. Rey’s face lit up when she saw him and he couldn't help but smile back. He watched her walk over to him noting her clean worn in jeans, yellow t-shirt, navy blue canvas sneakers and bubblegum pink nails.
"Hey, you. It must be Tuesday."
"Hi Rey."
"You know, it's kind of weird that you've been coming here every Tuesday for months and you know my name but I don't know yours."
"Oh, sorry, I'm Ben."
Her smile grew even bigger. "Nice to meet you Ben," and she held out her hand to shake.
He quickly rubbed his hand over his jeans and then reached for her hand to accept and return her greeting.
"Nice to meet you too," he said, looking at their joined hands.
"What would you like this fine summer morning?"
"Um, coffee and toast please."
"White, wheat, pumpernickel or English muffin?"
"English muffin please."
When she came back with his order he was focusing on a new sketch. He paused to thank her and then he poured cream into his coffee, added sugar, stirred it together and had a sip. It truly was a treat from his usual coffee with 2% milk and no sugar that he had at home. Then he smeared butter and strawberry jam on his English muffin and took a bite. It was much more tasty than his usual breakfast of Wheaties. He loved Tuesdays for so many reasons. When he finished eating he went back to sketching. Rey came and refilled his coffee cup.
"Whatcha working on now?" She asked, leaning closer to sneak a peek.
He froze for a moment, afraid to show her, but one look at her sweet face melted his fear. He turned his book towards her and she stepped closer and leaned down to see the sketch of their hands embracing.
"Ben, that's really good," she said, still leaning over so close he could smell her hair. Her boss called out to her from the back causing Rey to stand up straight and walk away. After he finished his second cup of coffee he left his usual five dollar tip and under it the stretch of their joined hands with his name signed at the bottom corner.
On his way home he stopped at a pharmacy and smelled every bottle of shampoo until he found the one that smelled like Rey's hair. It was inexpensive but had a light clean pleasant smell. Then he went to Goodwill and found an outfit that was pretty close to what Rey had been wearing. When he got home he washed his doll's hair in the kitchen sink. Then he blew it dry and fashioned the hair in a messy bun. He dressed the doll and fixed the hair again and then sat her on his couch in the corner. He sat in the opposite corner and he looked at his creation. It still looked like a doll, a cheap imitation of life. He squinted at it, blurring his vision and found it did look more like Rey.
He dropped his head in his hands and let out a strangled noise that came from deep inside him.
I'm such a fucking loser to be this lonely.
He dropped his hands and looked at his doll. He had positioned her to sit with her knees together, hands resting in her lap and her face pointed forward which happened to be facing the TV.
Would you like to watch TV? We can do that.
He said, sliding closer to her on the couch so he could reach the remote. He flicked it on and went to the guide channel to see what's on.
What would you like to watch? A program or maybe a movie? He looked at her like she might reply. Then he went back to the guide and chose a movie. After a few moments he laid his head down in her lap and positioned one of her hands on his head with her fingers in his hair and he fell asleep.