The Figurine

by SFT

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© Copyright 2010 - SFT - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; doll; figurine; play; sex; costume; cons; X

This story is covered by the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License ( )


I have this one figurine.

I'm not much of a collector, really, but this one I just had to have. Something about it just spoke to me. It was fairly normal, as far as figurines of anime characters go. A girl in a schoolgirl outfit in a fairly neutral pose, legs crossed, head tilted slightly downwards, holding a schoolbag out in front of her.

She was probably around 5 and a half inches tall.

I don't know what it was really, but when I saw her, I knew I just had to have her. I didn't even know if she was from a series or a game or what, and I didn't even look her up afterward. I got her loose, out of box, and really have no clue nor need to find out who someone else says she is.

This girl I knew, her name isn't important right now, she bought her for me. I don't know why, really. We were friends, but we certainly weren't close enough to buy each other gifts. She just saw me staring at her one day in the mall, stepped in, bought it, and gave it to me.

They both came home with me that night.


Nothing happened.

No, that's wrong. I don't know what happened, really. My friend seemed really happy to be coming over, but as time went on and I enjoyed basking in the glow of my newly acquired figurine, her attitude soured.

"Are you going to be looking at that thing all night?"

I remembered the things she said that night, but I don't remember what I said in response. Eventually her irritation had come to a head, and she had left in a huff.

That was three months ago. I haven't seen her since.

This figurine was probably all I had left of her.


So I came home one night to find the front door to my house ajar.

Crap, I thought. I recalled leaving that morning, and not checking if I had closed the door properly.

So I entered the house, and did a quick survey of my belongings. TV, check. Stereo, check. Important files, check. Figurine... missing.

Everything was here except that.

I took another run through the house, checking under everything, around everything, behind everything. My figurine was missing.

Though upon entering my bedroom, I found I had a slightly different one.


It was fairly normal, as far as figures of anime characters go. A girl in a schoolgirl outfit in a fairly neutral pose, legs crossed, head tilted slightly downwards, holding a schoolbag out in front of her.

She was probably around 5 and a half feet tall.

I thought about it a bit. I had never shown that figurine to anyone else. Only that one friend of mine even knew of its existence. Logically she could be the only one who took it, and replaced it with this life sized version.

I have no idea why she would, though. No idea why anyone would.


The thought occurred that perhaps this wasn't a figure. Perhaps it was just some sort of elaborate costume, to trick me for some reason. Though I could not come up with any plausible motivation as to why.

So I walked up to it...her.

She was perfectly still. Her chest did not visibly rise or fall, though it may have simply been obscured by her uniform.

I placed my face up to hers, listened, and heard nothing. No breaths in or out.

She certainly seemed like a still figure, but she wasn't just my original figurine, magically resized. There were some differences.

Upon further inspection, her clothing was a close match for the plastic of the original, but it was thin and flexible, unlike the original's stiffness. Her face was hard and smooth like the original, but had a lot more detail to it, with cleaner lines and smoother paint, something to be expected from being made at a higher scale. Her hair was also different, not just a lump of plastic but instead an array of humanlike hair, pressed and formed into a similar shape as the original.

Also, when I tried to touch her to examine further, she grabbed my arm.


Her schoolbag dropped gently to the ground, deforming as schoolbags do.

I jumped back slightly, but managed to stop myself from yelping in surprise. Her hand remained firmly clenched around my wrist.

"Whaa?" I said instead.

She remained still for a moment, then began to straighten up. She uncrossed her legs, looked me straight in the eye for a second, then tilted her head slightly and let me go.

"You're...alive..?" I said.

She nodded.

I straightened up my posture, and looked her over a bit more. The addition of motion certainly made her look alive, but her lack of breathing seemed a little disconcerting.

She watched me intently, raising her hand to her mouth, seemingly stifling a silent giggle.


I calmed myself somewhat, and began to reason with her.

"Look, logically, there's only one person you could be. I never showed that figurine to anyone else. So you're her, right?"

Her head tilted to the right slightly, but otherwise she remained silent.

"You can talk, right?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?"

She moved her hands to her face, and made a big show of trying to open her fixed plastic smirk. After it became clear that her face had been molded that way, she lowered her hands, bounced a little, and then shrugged.

"That's dodging the question. That's a mask, isn't it?"

She shook her head.

"Look, I'll prove it," I said, placing my hands under her head and pulling up.

Only it wouldn't come off. I only managed to pull the whole of her off the ground by a few inches.

She kicked me, and I let go.


She walked over to the foot of my bed, sat down, and glared at me. Well, glared to the extent a face with a permanent smirk can glare. She tilted her head down slightly, disguising the curve of her mouth, and stared up at me.

I shrank slightly.

"Sorry," I said, trying to sound as honest as I could. I still wasn't convinced she wasn't my friend in an elaborate costume, but apparently keeping the illusion that she was was important to her.

Though the fact that she was still seemingly not breathing created a slight amount of doubt in me.

She continued to glare at me, no longer really moving, simply staring.

I tried again.

"Alright, I'm sorry I tried to remove your, er, head."

She stared at me for a moment more, then shrugged, got up, and walked towards me. She then took my hands in hers, and placed them below her head, at the place where her chin transitioned to her neck.

Feeling around, I noticed that there was a transition between the hard plastic of her face and the softer, more flexible plastic that made up the rest of her skin. There was no apparent seam, the two seemed to simply meld together, as if one had been melded to the other. It was like this all around her neck.

I took the opportunity to feel for a pulse, but could not find one. As if she were a figurine, without breath nor heartbeat.


She was warm, though. About the right temperature you'd expect for a living human being.

Once I had finished searching around her neck, she motioned my hands to behind her head, as if taunting me to find something. A seam, a clasp, anything to prove that she wasn't a figure.

I slid my fingers around her plastic head, feeling carefully for such signs. They started from behind her head, under her hair, and slowly drifted along the sides to the front of her face, feeling every detail along the way.

But I found nothing but a smooth, perfectly curved surface. The only thing I noticed was that her head was a few degrees cooler than the rest of her body.

She took my hands again, lowered them, and then nodded at me expectantly. I suppose she expected that this would be enough to convince me that she wasn't human.

I put on as best a neutral face I could, but I guess some doubt creeped into it, as she sank a bit in response.


So she tried again.

She took my right hand this time, and pressed it to her chest, where her heart would be.

I resisted the temptation to feel around, and instead took her at face value, and focused on feeling a breath or a heartbeat.

Time passed. Seconds, minutes.

She didn't move an inch, and in turn, I didn't feel a thing. No rising, no falling, and no rhythmic pulse. It was like pressing into a pillow. Soft, warm, inviting, but completely devoid of its own motion.

Finally, I removed my hand on my own. No one could hold their breath that long, let alone stop their heart.

She nodded at me again, expectantly.

"Okay," I said, "let's say for the moment that you are some sort of living, life-sized figurine. Why are you here?"

She took a step towards me, slowly raised her left hand to my face, and brushed two fingers gently across my cheek.


Somehow, I knew every inch of her.

I had stared at that original figurine for far longer than I care to mention. This new one before me consistently surprised me with how accurate it was, right down to the number of folds in her pleated skirt.

She carefully placed her arms around me, and pressed gently into me, exposing every bit of her soft, slender body to me. She shifted slightly to the right, slightly straddling my right leg between her two, as if she were trying to push through me.

I responded by placing my own arms around her, feeling every detail of her back and blouse. Her blouse was slightly stiff and very plastic, loose enough that it was clearly separate from her body, but stiff enough that it kept any creases that were made. I smoothed down the creases that were there, creases that sparked a memory but were not necessary now.

Her body, though, was incredibly soft. Not hard plastic, like the original figurine she was clearly based on. I could feel her chest separate as she pressed into me, rubbing ever so slightly up and down. Her arms followed a similar pattern as mine, smoothing down the back of my shirt, and pressing her soft plastic fingers into my back.

It was a fairly enjoyable experience.


Things just sort of went from there.

She ended up sitting on top of me upon my own bed, still fully clothed, shoes and all.

She stared at me softly, with her face still fixed in that permanent smirk that was impossible to remove. She was leaning over me ever so slightly, but not actually doing anything, seemingly waiting for me to move first.

So I moved.

I reached over to her neckerchief, and pulled at it slightly.

It wouldn't come. Examining it further, it looked as if it had been sewn onto her blouse.

In turn, I tried unbuttoning her blouse.

The buttons weren't real, just plastic bumps on a single sheer surface of blouse.

Her head tilted slightly to the right, giving her sort of an inquisitive look.

"Er," I said, "don't these come off?"

She shook her head.

She straightened out a bit, shifted her weight to her bottom, and unfolded one of her legs in front of me. She then motioned with her hand, inviting me to examine it.

I placed my hands around her shoe, and tried to pull it away, but like everything else, it did not come. It wasn't just sewn to her stocking, it was a part of it. Likewise at the intersection of her stocking and the plastic flesh of her leg. There was a crease, but the one could not be separated from the other.

She was modelled after a figurine. Her clothing was an integral part of her.

This was going to be a bit of a problem.


After she folded her leg back, I decided to check the most obvious place on a figure.

I motioned to her skirt.

She nodded.

And so I flipped it up. This revealed a pair of soft, round, plastic hips, and a small pair of blue striped panties, exactly as the original had.

She didn't seem to mind me exploring. She just kept looking at me, seemingly depending on me to come up with something.

"May I?" I asked.

She nodded.

Placing my hands upon her panties, I tried running my fingers between them and her soft plastic skin, looking for a way in. I curved from her front, around her waist, then turned my hands and examined her bottom. There were no gaps. The panties were seemingly not separate from her body.

I decided to examine further, and placed my hand against the front, where the normal point of entry would be. I poked and prodded, trying to determine what, if anything, was behind here.

"I don't suppose I could just cut these off," I muttered.

She shook her head.

Pressing her there revealed a small crease in the center of the front of her panties. There was a distinct shape here, a bit harder than the rest of her plastic flesh, but still quite malleable to the touch.

I decided to take a gamble, and pressed a finger into the crease.

She stiffened a bit as my finger went in cleanly, then beamed at me, as if I had solved a puzzle.


She felt different.

That's really the best way I can put what happened if limited to one sentence.

With a normal human girl, I could synchronize myself with her breath and her rhythm, both being very evident when in such close contact.

But with her, it felt different. If I wanted to go slow, she went slow. If I wanted to go quickly, she went quickly. She was always perfectly synchronized to me, as if I were in total control. And yet she was on top, somehow anticipating my needs and adapting herself to them.

Moreover, she was plastic the whole way through. It made her extremely tight, but also quite dry, like doing a dutch wife. Unlike a dutch wife, however, her resistance varied, sometimes bearing down on me, sometimes just a comfortable squeeze.

Her lack of breathing was certainly somewhat disconcerting, but I became accustomed to it.

Also unlike a dutch wife, she used her hands and the rest of her body to accentuate the experience. Rubbing my chest, my back. Sometimes pressing her hard plastic lips to mine.

It wasn't long before I exploded.


And with that, she was gone.

She shook for a moment, and then froze completely, with me still inside her.

I slowly, carefully, pulled myself out, and then redid my pants.

She remained still, not moving, not breathing, just staring at me from her new pose.

I reached over and nudged her from the side, but she didn't move an inch.

I pulled up, removed myself from under her, and stood next to her beside the bed.

Her gaze remained upon the bed, where I once was. The only motion in her vicinity was a slow white drip from where I had entered.

"Uh, are you alright?" I asked.

She didn't respond.

It was pointless to check for signs of life. She had none. The only reason I knew she was alive was because she moved and responded to me.

But that was gone now. She had become a still figure, fixed in pose, frozen in mind and body.


I just sat there watching her.

It was just like that first night. I was so captivated by it that I had completely ignored anything and everything else.

Even her.

I never thought about it at the time. Why she was so willing to buy it for me. Why she was so eager to come over that time. Why she was so upset when I didn't pay her mind.

She probably couldn't say it out loud, but she wanted something that day. It might not have even been something grand.

Perhaps all she wanted was for me to look at her.

To be honest, I never really looked at her that way. Sure, she was pretty, but it wasn't like she seemed at all interested. We were friends of convenience, we did things for each other because they were the right things to do, not because we wanted anything.

But maybe, something changed and I was just ignorant of it.


Time passed. An hour, maybe two. I didn't keep track.

I kept watching, searching for a sign of life, or maybe just enjoying how she looked.

But she never wavered, never even shifting slightly. Her plastic eyes still staring, as if time had stopped at the peak of our experience together.

She was beautiful, as beautiful as when I first laid eyes on her. Well, her template. I was starting to get them confused in my mind.

That was the point, wasn't it. She knew I was enamored with it. Maybe this was the only way she could think of to pull my attention away from it.

I had to say something.


"Hey," I started.

I had to start somewhere.

She remained still though, and quiet. I decided to continue.

"You can hear me, right? You're still there? I have something to say."

I paused to swallow a bit, took a breath, and continued.

"You didn't have to do this, you know? You could have just said something."

She didn't respond. Not that I expected her to.

"I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But this, whatever this is, isn't the solution. This isn't you."

I stood, and walked up to her, placing my hand upon her plastic head. I knew this wasn't her. Not really.

"You didn't have to change for me. I know I didn't pay you mind that night. I know it seemed like all I cared about was this one thing that you bought for me. But that didn't mean you had to become it."

I brushed her head slightly. She remained still, but I continued.

"I cared about you, too. I just didn't know it then. I want to see you, again. Not this. Just you."

And with that, I began to take apart her facade.


My original encounter with her was filled with misdirection.

I moved my fingers to the back of her head, where she had so carefully placed them before, and found the seam that she had purposely manipulated me to miss. The back of her head unlocked with a soft click, and unfolded quite easily.

Her head was some sort of plasticy cloth, perhaps pvc, which had been overlaid onto a series of rigid, interlocking curved plastic plates, giving her head the illusion of a single unbroken surface. Now open, it unfolded like a delicate origami sculpture, revealing a human being inside.

Her eyes were closed, but it was clearly her. And she was asleep.

A rubber tube ran from her nose to the back of her head, just above the clasp I had unhooked. I recalled that she had never turned away from me, and thus I was never able to hear her breath escape from there.

I continued to remove her costume, and found that the material around the back of her neck was quite elastic. This was likely the sole point of entry. As well, the front of her neck was padded with an unusually thick yet flexible material, most likely to disguise her pulse.

It must have taken the entire three months to plan out and design this costume and encounter, from my predictable reactions to the careful supression of information.

That was probably all the explanation I needed, though. Her breathing and heartbeat were probably disguised by a combination of this thick material, the breathing tube, and careful, short breaths.

I decided to leave the rest on her and let her sleep. I was tired as well, and we would have much to discuss come the next morning.


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