[b][u][center]Casual Doll Needs
Part 3
For Technophile34
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]
 
 
 
 
 



It had been two months since they’d moved into the toy store and as far as Angel Dust was concerned, the place was as good as home.

Well, maybe not ‘as good as.’ The whole place was a dump, and no matter what they did to de-dump it, the dust always came back and the shit that covered everything around them never entirely went away. Even in the little corner that he and Marco had managed to convert to a living space (more of a little corner of the store than anything else), there was dust and litter and whatever else managed to sneak in through the cracked windows and the malfunctioning front door of the store.

Still, it was a hell of a lot better than being outside, and Angel Dust would take that every day of the week.

The doll grunted as he pushed the improvised couch around. His hip servos complained as he leaned forward and his secondary set of arms complained almost as much as his primary set did these days. They weren’t keen on being used after being tied up for so long, but after they’d fucked up his main pair, he’d been allowed to use them.

Didn’t like it, though; they weren’t very good after being tied up. Still, at least the two damaged pairs worked together well enough to match one regular pair.

“Nnngh…come ooooon, you fat fucking couch!”

The spider-doll shook his head as he managed to inch it along, a little bit more one way, then the other, then the first again. It was a diagonal wiggle that he had no doubt that Marco could have managed with one arm, but the other doll was busy making sure that the whole place stayed ‘secured’ or some shit like that. He was always busy with something except for short five or ten minute breaks during the day or when he came down to sleep. Or something like that. Ugh.

Finally, the ‘couch’ (more of a stapled-together set of small cloth piles that imitated cushions and a few sticks that worked as a frame) was in position. Angel Dust chuckled, shaking his head as he stood up straight and wiped off sweat that wasn’t actually there. It was just part of the mannerisms programmed into him; he couldn’t help it.

“Well, that’s done. Now if only I had someone to fuck me over this couch…”

Programming and reality fought with each other over that. His programming, his personality, was a slutty doll that begged for dick all the time. He craved getting used, put down, humiliated. He liked being the sassy bitch that got what he deserved all the time from those that were bigger and stronger than him.

In reality, he had gotten his dick taken away and given a pussy and he was still getting used to the feelings that he got from that being battered and used. And more to the point…

Angel Dust grunted as he reached down and squeezed his ass. The silicone that stuck out from the chassis that covered the rest of him was giving, even bouncy, but it was delayed compared to the real thing. Not massively, and not so much that it wasn’t enjoyable, but there was the reminder that he was still something that imitated the real thing rather than being the real thing.

And even more to the point, he could [i]hear[/i] the clicking of his joints and parts. For all that his programming wanted him to indulge, his self-preservation told him that he needed to take a break for a while.

[i]Even if it’d be fucking hot to fall apart.[/i]

He chuckled, the sound a little more rueful than usual as he sat on the couch. He let out an exaggerated moan of comfort as he got settled in, another imitation of something that he didn’t actually need.

Other dolls probably would have thought about all the things that they were programmed to do to imitate a character or even a person and how it was so strange that they weren’t allowed to be themselves. He knew that there were dolls out there that were sadistic and experimented with what they were and weren’t allowed to do as their ‘characters,’ and what happened when they went too far from the programmed baseline. They were fucked up shits, and he hated the idea of what one of them would do if they got their hands on him.

At the same time, he was a simple doll. He didn’t fucking care, for the most part.

As he got ‘comfortable,’ dealing with the soft click, click, click of his chassis pieces bumping against each other and reminding him that he was overdue for a tune-up and some spare parts, he turned his attention to the laptop that formed the centerpiece of their living area. They had managed to seal it off with some chunks of sheet metal laid against one another, forming walls in their corner of the store with enough of a gap to hang a piece of cloth over for a door, but it was the laptop that really was the core part of their living area.

[i]Fucking hell, that trader didn’t want to part with it, either. No wonder why…[/i]

The laptop was huge compared to the doll. Angel Dust was maybe six inches tall, maybe, while the laptop was fourteen inches across. The whole thing loomed overhead, powered by one of the main walls of the outlet. Unlike what the power main did to dolls like him – flooding them with some kind of corruption or other – it powered devices just fucking fine. The screen flickered blue as he reached out with a stick and tapped the power button, and he crossed his legs over each other as he waited for it to boot.

It might have been old and slow, but the fact that it worked at all was a miracle. Of course, it couldn’t do anything big – he’d tried to get it to run a few small programs, and Marco had been pissed as all hell when the big thing couldn’t tap into the program-editing machines in the store – but what it could do was run files. There were plenty of traders that were willing to offer deals for SD cards (rare as those were) and that meant that Angel Dust had found himself dealing with a new addiction:

Let’s-Plays.

“Come on, ya piece of shit. Boot up,” he muttered, tapping one heel on the ground as he waited for the machine to finish going through its start-up. “Come on, you do this every time. Can’t you get faster?”

The answer was no, of course. He would have liked to leave it on all the time and avoid this slow-as-shit start-up process, but Marco insisted that they weren’t going to leave it sucking power all the time. Didn’t matter for the bill, but something about the building having a limited supply or something still bothered the other doll.

He didn’t get it, but he wasn’t going to fight ‘Master Marco,’ as the other doll insisted on being called. Insisted hard enough to –

Angel Dust groaned, rubbing the side of his head. He could still feel the faint edits that burned against the rest of his programming. The fact that he’d been put through that should have pissed him off, and it probably did, somewhere. The rest of him didn’t mind and was happy to have some peace; at least he didn’t hate everything as much as he used to.

The laptop’s screen flickered, eventually settling on the main menu. Using the little stick, Angel Dust continued to type in commands one letter at a time. The whole thing was cumbersome and stupid, but at least it worked. Better than wandering the whole store and looking for something interesting enough to stare at, or sneaking out and trying to go on patrol with Marco again. There was nothing interesting around the store and he was sick of trying to pretend that he liked going on walks.

Particularly with his body getting more and more fucked. The way that his joints clicked were only the start of it. One of his arms was on the verge of falling out, and the other three weren’t doing great; his fingers twitched and flexed at the wrong time with the bottom-right one, and he was half-sure that the wiring inside the chassis was failing. Sooner or later, he was going to need some spare parts.

But for now –

Ping.

The laptop brought up the menu for the various files on the currently-installed SD card. Angel Dust chortled as he leaned back on the couch, folding his hands behind his head.

“Now this is more like it…”

He’d seen half of ‘em so far. It’d kept him entertained over the last two weeks, something that was kinda stunning. He’d never really had much interest in the shows that Marco kept talking about, nor in the advertisements that he saw in the store, but these…

He loved the horror games, particularly the gory ones that were deeper in the list. He didn’t know the names that the people playing them kept referencing – Resident this and Silent that – but the games themselves were really fucking cool. The bloody art, the pixelated mess, the polygons that went every which way while people screamed: it all spoke to him on a very different level, and he loved it.

He eventually picked one, his new favorite – [i]Dweller of the Cave[/i], a low-poly horror game that had twenty videos on it – and got the seventh episode playing. The screen changed again, this time going black before starting to play the game.

The gamer playing the game droned on, but Angel Dust had already tuned him out, focusing on the game itself. The familiar polygons of the cave sucked him in and he lost himself to it.

#

“You watching that crap again?”

Angel Dust blinked, looking away from the screen. The Wargreymon doll had returned, looking around the laptop screen with a knowing smirk on his face. He flashed a teasing grin of his own in return.

“Heh, what can I say? Better than looking at your face, master.”

“You scream happily enough with what I do to you.”

“Only because you like it.”

“Hmmph.”

“So, you done pushing the store’s buttons? Wanna come over here and push some of mine?”

“Maybe in a bit, but I’ll sit down.”

The mercenary Wargreymon sat down on the couch with him. The playthrough continued in the background, but it was harder to pay attention to it when the other doll was around.

Not because he liked the asshole or anything like that. After all, whatever shit he owed the other doll from saving him from the femdom assholes had been burned through by getting here in the first place and all the other mental shit that’d been fucked into his processors. No, no, he was thinking about…

Fuck, what was he thinking about?

Angel Dust groaned, one hand over his chest. Marco noticed, of course; the Wargreymon didn’t miss a bit.

“Getting worse?”

“Nah, just…pissed off.”

“We’ll bargain for something off the next trader.”

“We got a shit ton of dolls out there. We could –”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes – his library of expressions had a great many expressions to imitate – but didn’t say anything else. He’d known what the answer was going to be and had asked anyway. Marco had refused to scavenge anything from the dolls in the store ever since they’d moved in and he’d never budged on that. Even when the Wargreymon had started to dull in one eye, he’d refused to get another one from one of the inactive dolls.

Angel Dust didn’t get it, but the longer they lived here, the more that he started to come up with his own reasons. Just the feeling of an arm slowly dying had been enough to make him wonder how it’d feel to come out of the box without one of his arms attached, or coming ‘online’ without all his features. Even if it made him feel better, it was still selfish as shit, and something had changed in him since coming here.

He wasn’t sure he liked that.

He turned his attention back to the screen. More of his processes were shut down, his arms and legs going stiff and still as he cut the sensors and other bits leading down to them. No point in keeping that active while he was paying attention to the show.

It was…oddly calming and enticing when he watched the games. Sometimes it was the humor from the player – though not so much in this case – and sometimes it was the feeling of seeing something that didn’t exist anymore. Other times, he imagined what it would be like to play the game and how it’d feel to put himself out there like some of the protagonists of the games, being in that world. And other times…

Well, other times, it was just the fact that the games felt almost like how he imagined it’d feel to be a ‘person’ looking down at a ‘doll.’ He wondered what it would be like to have that sort of power over someone else and be able to command their every move.

So, when he watched the lets-plays, he put himself in that sort of headspace, feeling less doll-like and more like a person, and just…

Enjoyed…

The…

Feeling…

They were just closing in on the end of the episode when he ‘heard’ something. It was more like a ping from his auditory processors, reminding him that there was something pending. Angel Dust grumbled inside as he reactivated them, turning his head with a rusty sort of click along his neck joint.

“What? I’m watching something.”

“Are you actually okay right now?”

“Yeah. I mean, I could have someone fucking me with a hot-ass strap-on right now instead of watching this shit, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

“You want that?”

“…Nah,” Angel Dust admitted, slouching back against the couch. “I mean, yeah, it’d be fun, but I’m half-busted as it is. And you’re rough. Hot as fuck, but rough, ya know?”

“I am. Yes.”

“Ain’t complaining, but gotta be in the right shape for it, and – well, you know what’s happening, heh. You almost popped my ass last time.”

That had been rather funny, actually, though he’d complained with all his might when it had happened. Having the Wargreymon in full semi-feral lust hammering at his ass had been hot as fuck, and he’d genuinely enjoyed having that much attention back there. His pussy had been almost on fire from how hard it was getting used, and his cheeks had been plapping like crazy from every impact.

Unfortunately, being in bad shape meant that nothing lasted forever. He’d needed to take a break shortly after their session and he’d realized that one cheek had been dented more than it should have been. The silicone would recover – eventually – but it wasn’t going to be up for a fucking for a while.

And missionary wasn’t that fun a position, really.

“Eh, what can you do? Only a matter of time before someone busted my ass instead of my balls,” Angel Dust said, laughing. “It’ll get better.”

“Maybe there will be a trader soon.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

The traders were the only thing that made this store worthwhile as a living place. Sure, the shelter was nice, but the fact that they weren’t harvesting parts meant that all the extra dolls in the building were creepy instead of helpful. If he could get some parts off of ‘em and make himself better – hell, if they could trade some of the parts to the traders for better shit – then this would be a goldmine.

But Marco said no, and that was final.

He looked back at the screen. The lets-play was getting deeper into the horror and gore, and there were quite a few dead bodies that had been ripped apart by the game’s monster. He smiled despite himself as he saw the arms scattered about, the ripped-up torsos, and the amputated bodies of lesser monsters that had been killed in return. The doll rolled his hips backward and forward, his legs spreading despite himself.

Marco chuckled.

“What?!” Angel Dust grumbled.

“I thought you said you needed a break.”

“Yeah, doofus, from you fucking the shit outta me. Never said that I stopped having needs.”

“Going to finger yourself to the bloody mess on screen, then?”

“You watch me. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”

“…Maybe I’ll watch you.”

“Heh, you want all of this, don’t you?”

Marco didn’t respond to that, but he didn’t look away, either. The Wargreymon doll just stared at him, unblinking and unmoving in the way that only another doll could manage. Angel Dust sat the same way, legs spread, his bolted-on pussy dripping onto the couch cushions as they continued the stare-off.

It was one more thing that had changed. He was faintly aware of how his programming had been altered, how his sexuality had been expanded to include more than dick as part of being gay. He was fine with the fact that Marco had a pussy now; all those muscles and the dominant way that the Wargreymon handled him meant that it was easy to take him as a gay man, as a powerful, masculine [i]beast[/i] that demanded service, but that didn’t mean that he had lost who he was.

And the fact that he got fucked in the pussy rather than the ass was something else that he had come to terms with. It felt good. Weird, yeah, fucking weird, but good, and –

And it meant that there was something between them that hadn’t been there when they’d first met. Angel Dust still remembered giving himself over to the Wargreymon as a desperate way of begging for battery juice and his life, and it had been accepted. It wasn’t the first time that he’d done some stupid, desperate shit for survival, but it was the first time that the person taking the offer had stuck around.

And treated him half-decent.

And been more than just a guy holding a leash.

[i]Fucking hell, am I catching feelings?[/i]

If he was, he just fucking hoped that it wasn’t one-sided. It’d be embarrassing as shit to be the only one feeling those kinda feelings. Yeah, he knew that Marco didn’t like men, but with that pussy, did he count as a man for the Wargreymon doll, or was he just an easy way to get off?

Fuck. Why did he care?

Why did he want [i]Marco[/i] to care?

Not wanting to think about all that, he was the first one to turn away. He grumbled, shaking his head.

“Eh, probably shouldn’t waste the juice, anyway.”

“Probably.”

Not that they were lacking in that. The esip battery chargers that they’d been carrying had lasted well enough, but they’d also started a berry farm out back, one that was already bearing fruit. Dolls didn’t need food, but they did have batteries that gradually wore down. The berries were what most settlements used to keep their population running since they had a chemical make-up that somehow fed the batteries. Nobody knew how to synthesize it on a massive scale; esip was a completely different recipe and reserved for those that were making their way through the wasteland of a world outside the settlements.

With the combination, they had enough to not rely on the corrupted mains. The only reason to even touch that was for the sexual thrill of being warped and fucked up, something that Angel Dust was still tempted to do from time to time.

Not as much as he used to, though. He wanted to be in good shape for whatever Marco needed, and if he got too fucked up, then there was the very real possibility that he could pass the corruption on to the other doll. Last thing that he needed would be to fuck up his protector’s programming. Otherwise, what was the point of being his plaything.

“You ever want something more than this?” Marco asked.

“More than this shitty couch and that shitty laptop?” Angel Dust asked.

“Something like that.”

“…Heh. Who wouldn’t?”

It was a bit of a lie. He wasn’t as greedy as that, at least, not to the degree that he would bet that Marco thought he was. For all that he didn’t like living here in the store with all his busted-up bits, it was better than wandering around the wasteland of a world out there. They had food and supplies, they had shelter –

[i]We got each other.[/i]

Another feeling thought-program. Angel Dust put that off to the side, not wanting to think about things that way. It wouldn’t help him right now.

Instead, he looked back at Marco.

“What about you?”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I’ll answer it if you fucking answer it.”

“…”

The Wargreymon doll looked away, the chassis around his neck clicking quietly. Not so loudly as Angel Dust’s, but enough to tell the sultry doll that he wasn’t the only one that was going to need attention in the future. Eventually, they were both going to need some spare parts that they weren’t getting off of traders.

And that’d mean either heading out further afield to find those traders or doing something with the parts here…

He decided not to say anything about that. He was a dick, not a complete asshole, and there were lines that he didn’t need to cross.

“Maybe,” Marco admitted, shaking his head as he looked off in the distance. “Didn’t think that I’d be one for settling down. But here I am.”

“Ya happy about it?”

“Sometimes.”

“Yeah? What about the rest of the time?”

“…It’s not as bad as I thought.”

Wasn’t much, but it still made him smile. Goddamn stupid thoughts. Probably had some more corruption leftover in his system than he thought. Angel Dust looked back at the screen. More gibberish on the wall, but also a lot of low-poly blood and guts and more splattering the ground. God, he loved that shit.

“Your turn.”

“Come oooooon, lemme watch my show.”

“No. You said that you’d answer. Now, answer.”

“Fine, fine, asshole.”

Shaking his head, he reached for the pause button and stopped the video. No point in letting it play out while he wasn’t paying attention to it. Angel Dust turned from the screen and looked Marco right in the eye.

“Do I want more? Fuck yeah, I do.”

Marco didn’t move, but he somehow went still, stiffening up. Had he hurt the Wargreymon? Hard to tell; Marco didn’t really show his emotions the way that all the other dolls did when they were feeling shit. But he didn’t stop. He just kept going.

“See this shit?” Angel Dust said, gesturing at the screen. “I wanna do shit like that. I wanna play that shit and see how it [i]feels.[/i] I wanna live a different life. I wanna not creak and crack all the time.”

“…Are you unhappy, then?”

“…Fuck, that’s harder.” He shook his head – click-click. “Nah. I ain’t unhappy. I just…I wanna have more. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

“Someone that’s actually happy.”

“You can be happy and you can be [i]more[/i] happy. Ain’t like it’s one or the other, Master.”

Marco looked at him as if he didn’t understand that. Angel Dust didn’t feel like explaining.

[i]We really are fucking weird,[/i] he thought, letting the program go back to playing. [i]I don’t have a clue what he wants. He just…is. But…least he looks after me. That’s better than the shit that everyone else did.[/i]

A hell of a lot better than what everyone else did. The best that he could hope for from the other dolls was that he’d do something sexy for them and then they’d leave him the fuck alone. If he was [i]really[/i] lucky, then all he had to do was show off instead of actually eating them out or some shit like that. He mighta been a slut, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have a sexuality. Gay first, slut second.

The number of pussies that he’d been forced to eat and the asses that he’d been made to rim were too high, and the asses had been better than the pussies.

Marco, though…

The big guy didn’t have that same need to humiliate him all the time. Use him rough, sure – and fuck, it was hot when the big guy did it – but that was something that Angel Dust needed anyway. It was the way that Marco didn’t try and treat him like a woman. Didn’t try and treat him like a man, either, but that was something that he could live with. Long as he didn’t try and turn him into a woman.

They had a weird, fucked-up relationship with each other, but at least it was something that mostly worked. Mostly.

They sat there in silence, as they often did when they weren’t fucking or arguing. The show continued, and while he was pretty damn sure that Marco didn’t care for it the same way that he did, at least the other doll was able to sit there and enjoy it with him. The quiet was nice, and so was the company.

He might have gotten the idea of reaching out to tease and play with the other doll if it wasn’t for the soft beep that caught both their attention. Marco looked up at the little speaker on the side of their sheet-metal walls, shook his head, then stood up with a soft click-clack of his legs pattering together.

“Sounds like there’s someone poking around.”

“Gotta take care of that, muscle-brains?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Can’t just ignore it? It’s probably nothing.”

“You want to take the risk of raiders coming in and taking you back, hmm?”

“…Yeah, not really.”

“That’s what I thought. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Angel Dust nodded, waving him off before sweeping his legs up and over the rest of the couch.

“Alllll mine.”

“Everything that belongs to you belongs to me, bitch,” Marco called over his shoulder.

“Fuck you!”

“Eventually.”

With that, the Wargreymon doll left their little corner of the world and Angel Dust was left alone once more. The smaller doll rolled his eyes, got as comfortable as he could, and let the show continue.

[i]Fucking paranoid dick.[/i]

Probably a good idea to patrol, though.

[i]Come on, who’s going to be messing with us out here?[/i]

If traders could come their way, then there was a real possibility that someone else might, too.

[i]Yeah, but who cares?[/i]

Well, he would, if they were like the female dolls that had enslaved him before Marco showed up and killed the lot of them. The last thing that he wanted was to be dragged back into that kind of slavery.

Angel Dust grumbled at all the distracting thoughts from the core processor. When he wanted to just sit down, veg out, and not think, it just kept throwing bullshit at him. It was just beyond stupid.

[i]Fucking fucker.[/i]

He wasn’t even sure if he was talking about himself or Marco there. Hell, he didn’t know why Marco running off to check the perimeter was getting to him so much. He just knew that it wasn’t what he wanted and he was getting to be a pissy little bitch about it to deal with the frustration.

The spider doll grumbled, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. He folded his arms behind his head and sighed. If there was such a thing as doll therapy, he might actually look for it. Fuck, his head felt messed-up.

He tried to turn his attention back to the game. It was further on now, moving on to some kind of boss-fight. The low-poly shit and the fact that the screen wasn’t that good meant that it was hard to make out details, but the boss’s body-horror – several heads, eight sets of arms, and more – was the sort of shit that he could get behind. That kind of design should be more common. Hell, if he could find some dolls with that kind of shape, he’d be grinning ear to ear at the idea of having some fun with ‘em.

[i]Wonder what Marco would look like with extra sets?[/i]

That was a hot thought, though he knew it’d never happen. Still, he slowly reached between his legs, idly rubbing his pussy as he watched the boss fight continue. A lot of dodging around, a lot of avoiding attacks, but mostly, a lot of staring at the creature that loomed over the player character…and a hell of a hot creature it was…

[i]Damn, I need something like that…[/i]

He was just starting to slide a finger into his pussy when there was a sharp crack from outside. He sat up a little bit on the couch, waiting –

SNAP!

CRACK!

“Huh…guess there was someone outside, after all,” he muttered, lying down again. “Eh, he can handle himself.”









[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A pair of intelligent dolls have a semi-talk about the way that their relationship is and works. 

Tags: Trans Man/solo, Intersex/Solo, Angel Dust, Wargreymon, Dolls, Fingering, Nudity, Masturbation, Talking, Introspection, Size Weirdness, Relationship Stuff,