The Doll Who Loved Me
Copyright© 2025 by Gigi Potemkin
Chapter 6
Drama Sex Story: Chapter 6 - The story of a lonely, young man being haunted by his sex doll.
Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Romantic Heterosexual Fiction Horror Mystery Dolls FemaleDom Interracial
The register beeped as the products were scanned. The noise, as usual, was strangely comforting, and he had a silly smile on his face as he hastily packaged the groceries into the heavy, rough-textured bags.
The cute blond girl behind the counter looked at him in between scans. “Nice day, I see.”
He took a step back, pulled from his own head by her voice. “Oh.” It was the first time she’d ever talked to him. The first time that she was the one initiating the talk, and a talk unrelated to her work or his groceries.
He was surprised by her raspy, tomboy-ish voice. It was a striking contrast to her pretty porcelain face. “Oh. I ... err...”
“Having a nice day?”
He tried his best to not look or sound weird. “I, uh ... I guess.”
“Huh.” And then, like so, she returned to her boring duties.
He was in the clouds. Indeed, he felt like the greatest man in the universe. «She’s just being polite, though.» No matter: despite his best efforts, his hands began to shake. He hid them behind his back so that she didn’t see them trembling, but when the products continued to pile on the counter, demanding his attention, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hide from her for too long. «There’s no reason to take this as anything more than what it is: politeness. Just darned, casual courtesy.»
He threw at her a thieving glance. It was late in the evening, and she had the air of someone who could not (yet still had to) spend one second more in that tedious, life-sucking job. She looked too miserable for her beauty, and he was not used to seeing (or even conceiving of) faces so pretty with frowns so heavy.
“Why?” He asked. She probably didn’t hear him. “Hm...” He tried again, a little louder. “Why?”
“Huh?”
“How do you know it? T-that I’m having, uh ... a nice day?”
“Oh.” She shrugged, not even looking at him most of the time. “Don’t know. I saw your smile and figured you were having a nice day.”
She smiled. He was shocked. “Oh.”
The pretty cashier pointed at the groceries piled on a big stash to her left. “That will be thirty-four hundred, fifty-five, all.”
“Oh. Umm ... yes. Sure.”
So many things! So many things on his mind! She probably saw his hand shaking as he counted the notes, almost dropping the old, raggedy wallet on the floor as he did. «Get a grip get a grip get a grip...!» He shouldn’t have expected anything out of that conversation, naturally, but still...
Well. It was his nature, was it not? Pretty lady, beautiful smile, heart attack.
He handed over the notes and moved on quickly to pack his things, looking for something nice, anything intriguing to say while she registered the pay and pressed some buttons on her counting machine. “N-nice, uh ... job.”
“Mm?” She looked at him, quizzically.
“Err, it’s been a ... nice day at my job.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. And I, uh, came back from the doctor. Good news.” He rubbed his forehead. “Perfect health. No, uh, no problems.”
“Oh. Okay.”
Her replies were short, sharp, definitive. Clear periods in each sentence. He knew he had no reason or cause to press further. Still...
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