No Strings on Her by JMS Books LLC

Author:JMS Books LLC
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: lesbian

Chapter 9

From Grandmother’s book: Laugh like a child and eat cake.

No cakes or treats.

No dates.

No dolls.

My training and regimes vanished with the last of the winter ice. I ceased to care about calories, discipline, or decorum. Whether because of the realistic possibility of coming face to face again with Evie or the pressures of the competition, I didn’t know. The days began in a whirl of half-hearted sessions about manners, communication, and cuteness. All such nonsense ended minutes later with delicious food and hugs.

It wasn’t that Pokio was resistant to my approach. On the contrary, she sat quietly while I explained why it was important to make humans feel valued, before asking if I’d like a coffee and a biscuit, newly baked. The truth was she already possessed excellent skills and qualities of which any human would be proud. There was nothing to teach—she out-trumped me in every way and was more intelligent, insightful, and empathic than most humans.

She watched my feeble efforts to be in charge as if she were the teacher and I the student—with words of praise and encouragement always waiting to fall from her wooden lips. “Good, Beatti! You taught me how to say thank you really well. It’s brilliant, of course—no, it is. But even dogs understand, thank you. How about we move into new territory?” Her head cocked to one side. By then, I understood the gesture meant she was about to make me laugh.

I held myself in readiness for yet another bout of hilarity. “Sure. Like what?”

She skipped across and sat on my feet. The pressure of her wooden body was reassuring and pleasant. After two years with nobody but Honey for company, I enjoyed the security that came from the sensation. More than anything, I yearned to feel the ground beneath my feet and know I wasn’t going to fall into nothingness once more.

She giggled in peels of pure cheeky sweetness. “How about asking what I think about string theory?”

I didn’t understand the reference to science and thought she meant her puppet strings. Most Kinder dolls questioned their purpose—they could walk pretty well unaided. “What’s string theory?”

She wobbled her body, fiddled with her hooks, and went floppy. “Being a puppeteer, you should know about strings.”

“I didn’t know there was a theory about it,” I said, laughing. Thinking how fascinating she was and how she kept me on my toes. “Who knew?”

Pokio didn’t need threads. But as was our way in Kinder, hoops covered her body in readiness for the competition and subsequent buyer. Thinking of the prize fee, I’d attached extra loopholes at her pelvis, chin, and feet. Pokio had more strings than any other doll I’d crafted. She could even use them to perform acrobatics and had once created a zip wire across the bathroom.

She laughed silently while I wracked my brain trying to work through whatever she meant. Strings were a necessary part of being a successful puppet. “So, what do you think about string theories? Is it a chart or something?”

She scrambled up and kissed me soundly on the cheek.

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