cafterhomme

Huzzah!

Well it only took six years, two countries, three jobs, one lovely marriage, one less-lovely global pandemic, and just under 150000 words, but Dollhood: A Woman’s Choice is finally finished!!!

With the posting of the final four chapters, we have the conclusion of a multi-book arc chronicling the misadventures of Hope Hodgkinson and her friends, family, and (let’s be honest) abusers. I consider this a happy ending, but bittersweet without a doubt. What kicked it off was an outline that davepotter77 (Dave Potter) and I drafted back in 2017 right after the completion of An Artist’s Masterpiece, being enamoured with a couple of throwaway characters – identical twins Hope and Chastity – and the mere mention of their renamed mother Cushions and her companion Cuddles.

That bare outline took us through the idea that Emily’s struggle in Masterpiece was not actually unique but just woefully rushed and mishandled, exploring “by-the-book doll-to-be” Hope’s upbringing and time at finishing school, all the way to her wedding with John Collins. Fulfilling that outline turned out to be a monumental task. I should have cut and reduced complexity and arcs, but the world of Alt-Britain and just my sliver of it was growing too dense and intriguing to look away!

I consider Books 1 and 2 to be a standalone transformation story, first of indoctrination then subjugation then finally adoration. But to leave it there would have been saccharine. They certainly like each other but, as common in arranged marriages, they hardly understand each other.

Books 3 and 4 are perhaps even darker, steered by my good friend slothargy deeper into the possibilities of this world, and the twin dolls’ peculiar arrangement. Not only must they contest with John’s dangerous father, but also their place in the upper crust of this strange system, and the nature of Leisure; searching for the line between being cared for and caged. Books 1 and 2 are most certainly about the descent into objectification, Book 3 is about existence within those constraints as a objectified passenger, and Book 4 covers the recovery and attempt to find a balance.

All this is to say, its now more novel than novella! The little idea has grown to encompass numerous characters and a full world which Dave already laid the foundation for with his Ladies of Leisure. Atop this, through thick and thin, I’ve been lucky to have Slothargy’s support and knack for worldbuilding as I wove my story.

Go ahead and read Book 1, that’s all I ask. :)

An Illustration to Celebrate!

Now somewhat related, I’ve long appreciated the work of HexErotica who is a 3D designer and artist of the highest calibre, with an astonishing grip on rendering techniques. They asked last fall for my assistance proofreading and editing on a comic project of theirs, which I offer to other writers engaging in interesting worldbuilding projects. As an unprompted thank-you for my involvement with this new comic Cyber Dolls, HexErotica has taken the time to bring Hope and Chastity to life!

I really appreciate this rendering, as I’ve appreciated all the illustrations of my stories: paid, trades, or simply gifts. Very lucky to have a great community! :)

I’m curious if anyone can tell which is which… :P

Feel free to read this post on my website!

My Dad always told me I became a right fool the moment any choice was laid at my feet, and even ten years later, with him no longer here to hit me upside the head and pick my ice cream while I stood there, stock still in the freezer section, he was still right. I had no mind for decision-making, always letting the superposition of my life drag out until it was too late, much too late. That's how I had lost out on two prestigious internships to end up a barista serving balding men in my dead-end hometown, and how I had ended up going on a date with one of them, when my coworker begged me to stop deliberating out loud and just flip for it.

And here I was stock still again, but not in indecision. No, I wasn't worrying about that one bit. I was worrying about why I couldn't move!!

The Doctor paced back and forth in front of me, dressed in much more official clothes than the ones he had worn to dinner… was that last night?. He hadn't been introduced as such, but I couldn’t remember his name and this place felt like a doctor's office, even as I stood there with a blank smile painted on, my chest and my hips the only part of me covered up by 6” wide loops of skin-tan spandex.

"I can't fucking believe we have to start over! I mean, how many products do we have in the wild?" He bit at the Engineer sitting at a desk trying not to stare at me. He was failing.

"Just shy of 350 units were processed in the last five years, sir. Before that it gets fuzzy. You and Andy had--

"Ah ah! No names! We can't take anything for granted now." The doctor warned before returning to his pacing, eyeing me and the three girls next to me. He lingered on me the most though, for some reason. I had assumed he took all the others out for dinner too before abducting them, like some Criminal Minds bullshit, but maybe not.

"Oh… it’s alright. She has filters set already."

"But she's not blanked?”

The Engineer, a much younger man, shook his head. “No, I had only laid her down when the reports came back.”

The Doctor strode up to me and looked down, my inability to flinch or step back or even shake in terror just rattling my head inside the cage of my skull.

“You’re so much luckier than you know, Lily. If we had cleaned your head, tabula rasa, to load a maid imprint, or maybe a girl next door, your ass would be in the incinerator. A ticker on borrowed time. Would’ve been a waste.” His hand grabbed my behind to punctuate his threat of good fortune, and I watched from inside my body as I beamed at him, suddenly making eye contact and sticking my tongue out with a disgusting wink I would have never let myself stoop to, even as my bare feet shook on the cold enamel floor.

He turned away from me, “Oh, you did load her up with Girl Next Door?”

The Engineer scratched his head and practically blushed. “Yeah, it's my prototype behaviour set, making use of the space we have left if her personality is still in there. It's almost a total rewrite since we have to keep her frontal lobes working.”

The Doctor looked back down at my peppy eager performance and whistled. “You did a fine job so far, son.” My body bounced in place, happy as can be, hands grasping each other behind so my barely-covered chest pushed out for him, proud of the compliment, all the while I screamed inside, the outer shell acting lightyears from how I felt.

It's true, the Doctor's smooth voice had at first allured me, the pickiest customer at work making smalltalk as I consistently messed up his overcomplicated orders. He had always been writing in his notebook, and I asked him a few times what was so important, but he always changed the subject. Turned it back on me, my path to nowhere as I poured steamed milk into another cup. That sort of attention was more than polite, it was flattering.

It was only at dinner he showed me the pages and pages of X's intermingled with other meaninglessly complicated words and notes, before getting to the last page -- from earlier that day -- three X's with circles around them. According to him, they were all the times I had failed his tests, and I had "struck out."

The Engineer was looking at me again as I bounced in peppy joy, my unsupported chest joining the fun while I begged my arms to cover up. No luck.

He looked at the Doctor. "I don't see why we can't leave them like this. The implant has no issues isolating the host mind so we can just curate the shell."

"Because we're not monsters." The man retorted, eyeing me as if he had heard my internal disagreement. "To leave someone like this is worse than burying them alive, never mind the infosec concerns. We have to find a way to nudge them toward the character we choose without undue stress or too-swift rewrites."

While the Engineer put his face in his hands as he visualized the mountain of work ahead of him, I still beamed at the Doctor who instructed me to follow him, which my traitorous body did eagerly, even skipping down the hall of this clinic at one point. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a wheelchair… with a woman laying on top? But I couldn’t stop for a better look.

Getting to what must have been his office, the Doctor bade me to sit down. “I want you to speak, and I want you to help me. We need fresh ideas here or else my company is going down the drain and all the clients I failed will put me in a ditch.

“You deserve it.” I said with a bubbly grin, which surprised both of us.

With an eye he warned, “Keep your comments helpful, dear.” and I felt the gates come down a little more, my instinct to scream doused like my instinct to run.

“What do you think we should do to make your life bearable? We can’t erase you or kill you, we need the mind and without enough activity it's just turning to mush in these girls’ heads.”

I was initially horrified by the idea of slowly going insane, braindead, whatever-- before I realized “I” wouldn't be there to see it happen. Still, the words seemed to pour forth as though I had no filter, my fingers twirling my hair in a obvious way I hadn’t done since I was fifteen. “I don’t want to go like my Dad.” The Doctor gestured for me to go on and I was compelled to tell my abductor my deepest fears. “He had early-onset dementia. I watched him slowly leave us until he wasn’t him anymore, and then he passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lily. I can excise that memory if you like, please let me know. Also, I hope you don’t think that's what will happen to you. Actually you may be the first of our ToyGirls to not suffer that fate, and I’m going to have to live with that.”

The nigh-sincere moral guilt that was on display was sickening, but my voice just lilted. “Don’t worry, sir, you’re doing the right thing now!”

Those hadn’t been the words Ihad wanted to say, not by a long shot, and the Doctor must’ve known it, for he hardly even acknowledged my programmed eagerness and praise. “There must be some part of this that doesn’t hurt you right now. We’re likely setting you up for a life of luxury that will quickly replace your dead-end job. But I don’t think that's your trigger. What are you enjoying about this that you don’t even want to admit to yourself? Be honest, now. If we can tap into that maybe we can make this easier on you while we repurpose your body for something more... useful and entertaining.”

That cold remove was back as he explained the benefits of this new job of mine, and I wanted him to just use the word slavery but he wouldn’t. Instead my lips spoke what I didn't want him to know, no one, never. “I am taking some calm in the fact that I don’t have a choice in any of this.”

My hands slipped between my legs and spread them, exposing my bareness below as they came tantalizingly close. Why this routine? Why now?? My shuddering voice continued. “I have always fantasized about having a little voice in my head, maybe my Dad’s, I don’t know… to tell me whats the right way forward in life. Which internship to take, which major to declare.” My fingers were rolling around my wet nub now, and I couldn’t stop them, all the while that bastard was writing notes in front of me.

In between little moans I shouted, “If I could just know what is best, I would be happy, I don’t want to -- ah! -- I don’t want to doubt anymore! If I’m your ToyGirl -- ah! Mmm -- make sure I don’t regret it…” My fingers were practically buzzing between my legs as I flushed, staring at the fully dressed man behind his desk.

“This is really enlightening, Lily. Thanks for not failing me again, we may have found your calling. Now head on back to your place with the other girls and tell the next one to come in, I think I have an idea but I have to check.

My body jumped up, my hands by my sides pointing out as I smiled and bounced on the balls of my feet again. “Of course!” Leaving his office I begged my fingers to just finish their job, but they had a mind of their own, I was not allowed to cum, I was to fetch the next girl and then return to my place where the Engineer could adjust me again, and I had no choice.

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Here we have a little scene in between the two Anything Co. stories! I know there’s not a lot of connective tissue between them, but maybe this sheds some light on Jasper and his operation. To read more:

I also realize I'm far from meeting my one-per-day goal, but I've been taking some mental health time and letting the ideas flow out more naturally. I look forward to keeping up this pace, hitting 6-7 vignettes this month. What should I write about next? Anything from my stories you want to see expanded? Comment below!

My day started with a slight gagging, like it always did. Not from something being shoved deep into my facehole, oh Fathers no! Quite the opposite! It was from Henry getting up for the day, and slipping out of me! His little wifey right here was sadly unable to follow him as I felt cool air on my lips for the first time in hours, along with the foam mattress flexing and sinking and cooling off, as he headed off for a shower, leaving the bed empty and still.

I don’t remember if I always had an aversion to my hole being empty, I can’t really remember much before my wedding, but I do know it's not ‘normal’ to feel a little nauseous when I lose my favorite lollipop, a ripple of panic traveling through my gut that it may never return. Of course my worries are so silly, like all girly worries, and they pass right away. I mean, like, Henry just bought me a year ago! And he hasn’t even mentioned any work trips this month… I don’t think? So I could at least expect to be occupied nightly, and there will always be a ‘next time’, its just a matter of when? But still the worry nags me, with not even a tongue -- that's what makes it a hole and not a ‘mouth’, a super duper important difference! -- it's just gaping there waiting for that next time…

That will have to wait of course, as it's soon time to get out of bed. This is more literal than it used to be as I lay underneath the mattress with my plushy body pressed in on all sides by the foam. The only exposed part of me are my big donut lips -- surrounding my most important hole, of course! -- covering my chin to my nose, poking up through a hole in the bed.

A hole fit for a hole! I giggle silently.

Slowly I feel my body lowered, the crushing pressure letting go as my lips sink below the surface, and the drawer I lay in slides out the side. The bright morning light blinding me, I bat my lashes until a retiree strolls into my view at the ceiling, right on time as always to pick me up from the padded sleeping drawer, and get me upright.

Not to say I’m tall like it, or like Henry, that would be silly! I’m just a shortie, and looking around -- with my big pink lips filling the lower part of my view -- I can barely see over top the bed to where my hole is being plugged with a foam panel until I return. I faintly remember the feeling of licking my lips once, or did I? Then I think of my hole being plugged until just moments ago, and I imagine shoving my fingers inside.

Just one first, the pointer… it slips in without even feeling all the bumps! Then the middle… and now my hole is stretching a little, I’m feeling quite satisfied! But then I remember about ring fingers -- the second longest, you know! -- and that has to go in, of course! My jaw is opening a bit now, spread by the trifecta, my pinkie too, shove it deeper, till you get to the knuckles, feel it spread as you feel the tips get closer to where your gag reflex used to be -- not before the enhancements… before a proper Holsom education, of course! Silly! Silly! -- then the Doctor strolls up, barking mean things at me, and yanks them all out!

I wake up from my reverie. My hole is still empty and I just drooled a bit on my chest…

Impressed that I’m even upright still on my two little leg stumpies, I look down over the pink rim of my hole to find my tits are fine (I keep worrying they will get smaller tucked so tightly under the bed all night), but more importantly I look over my left and right and see my unmade brunette locks cascading over smooth shoulders with no arms, hands, or pesky little fingies!!

Beginning my slow waddle to the wife’s ensuite -- that’s me!! I’m a wifey!! -- to meet the maid who must be waiting to rinse my other holes, I’m so thankful for the smart doctors and Henry’s great ideas to get rid of such pesky things as my arms. That makes so much sense why wives wouldn’t have them if all they could think about was their…

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This little vignette was based off the cutiepie to the left in this work by @slothargy!

She just caught my eye from the start with her perfect height and the caring hand on her head. This is the start of (hopefully) a daily series of writings, which I will come back to later to fetch ideas from in my longer series!

tl;dr: I built a website at cafterhomme.com!

If you were waiting for the final Book of Milk chapters I have good news and bad news. Bad news is they still don't post correctly here on DeviantArt. Good news is they're up and available on my site! The Book Of Milk Chapter 19

I'll be sharing them here this evening or tomorrow, but I would recommend rereading in the new format for the real experience!

What follows is from the blog there!

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To all stumbling over here, this is the new dedicated spot for all of my writing! I’ve been posting to Deviantart for about 3 years now and I decided a change was due after the recent developments with Eclipse and my subject matter tipping over their line of decency in many respects.

Due to DA’s limitations, chapters of The Book of Milk and A Report from the Farm were not properly formatted anymore. This may be a little thing, but the strikethrough of forbidden thoughts was essential to the slow devolution of each story, and posting as PDFs never quite caught on UI-wise.

There are a lot of benefits:

• Custom formatting for any story.

• The Book of Milk and A Report from the Farm look magical with their bright red strikethroughs and robotic interjections!

• Readability should be easier overall.

• (Let me know if you think otherwise!)

• Light and Dark Mode!

• This should both react to your device settings or stick with your preference if you hit the icon on the bottom of this page.

• Cheap hosting.

• I built this all with Jekyll so its all static files on AWS, something like $1/month, maybe less.

• Built-in story series, linking, footnotes, tags…

• I had to build most of this logic over the last two weeks, but it was remarkably easy!

Some challenges:

• Technical setup.

• If you would like to get my source code contact me directly, I can run you through how it’s done. Git and Markdown, but otherwise its a breeze!

• Forces me to build a Discord to get around having dynamic changing comments.

• I could roll with Disqus but they have privacy issues and ads. The only option was to stick with a platform thats been really transformative for me. FYI its pretty bare over there right now…

So here we are. A drastic over-reaction? Absolutely. A great project to feature writing at its best? Absolutely!

P.S. I would like to extend a huge thank you to Slothargy for the story watermarks for Dollhood and Beta Academy!