Woke Up Like This -3- (Patreon)

I stood back up from where I had leaned over the phone. I felt dizzy and kept hold of the table and then the dresser. I found the little doll that looked like me and picked it up again. “Cute,” I said.

The doll was made of something hard and shiny and now I saw that there was a hole through the hair and right through her head, above where her ears would be on both sides. I giggled, feeling of both sides of my head with my other hand. I didn’t have any holes there but I had to check.

I tried to stand the doll up on the top of the dresser but its pointy little feet would not hold it up. I looked down through the valley between my tits to see that I was standing on tiptoe, too. No wonder I had trouble keeping my balance. That seemed pretty funny, too, so I giggled some more.

I played with the doll some more, wondering what might be supposed to go through the holes in its head and almost remembering a dream where I had a hole in my head, too. “Stupid,” I told the doll. I tapped her against my temple “Both,” I said, and giggled some more.

It seemed a long time before I heard something at the door. There was more than one door in the room but the sound came from the one in the middle. “Key!” someone said and then the door opened and a tall man in a rumpled suit came in followed by a black woman in a gray dress. 

The man stared at me, looked around the room and stared at me again. “Who are you?” he asked.

Well, I didn’t know the answer to that question. “Me?” I said.

That didn’t seem to be the answer he wanted. “She’s naked,” he said to the black woman who grinned at me.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “She is naked, all right.”

“Miss,” the man said to me. “Put some clothes on.”

I looked around the room. The damp shorts and t-shirt still lay in the puddle in the middle of the room. I saw something I hadn’t noticed before, another chair on the other side of the bed with a pair of pants lying across it and a blue shirt hanging on the seat back.

I didn’t want to wear the soggy underwear again so I headed around the bed which took me directly toward the man who stepped back, almost running into the black lady. “Mister gargle?” the man called out. “Mister lumber? Are you here?”

“There’s his clothes,” said the black woman, pointing at the chair with the pants.

“Where’s mister knobby?” the man asked me.

His question caused me to lose my balance turning to look at him. I stumbled and caught myself on the bed, feeling my breasts sway as I moved. That caught his eye and he stared at me.

“You’re naked,” he said again.

I giggled. “Sexy?” I asked. I never knew what I was going to say but I felt my face turn red.

He looked away and saw the sticky mess in the middle of the room. “What is this?” He asked then looked back and me. “Are you a whore?” he wanted to know.

Well, I kind of wanted to know the answer to that too, but him asking in a mean voice sort of hurt my feelings. I felt my lip tremble. I leaned my butt against the bed and waved the doll I still had in one hand at him. I wanted to say something but instead I just stuck my tongue out at him. I made a noise, sort of like, “Meh!”

I could tell the black lady thought this was funny but she was standing behind the man and he didn’t see her put her hand to her mouth to hide her smile. I did though and I smiled back at her.

Then I saw something else. The front of the man’s pants had a bulge that wasn’t there when he came in. I stared at his crotch. He was getting a hard-on looking at me. I felt a little excitement myself, remembering what I had been doing earlier.

No, I tried to tell myself. You know you used to be a guy. You’re really a man in your head. You don’t want to have sex with this guy. I glanced at the mirror, seeing the white-haired girl there lick her lips. I looked back at the man standing there staring at me. I smiled at his crotch.

The black woman stepped around the man who might be her boss. “Are you okay, sugar?” she asked me, shaking her head just a little at the same time.

“Yes,” I said. I showed her the doll in my hand. “Cute,” I said.

“Well, isn’t that something,” she said, looking closely. “The charm looks just like you!”

The man started looking around the room again. Pulling open doors, turning on lights and raising the shades on the window. In the brighter light, the room looked dingy and sad. 

He kept calling out, too. “Mister lumpy? Are you here?” The man checked inside the other doors, a bathroom and a closet then even under the bed.

He found the pants and wallet on the chair beside bed. He held the trousers up for a moment, glancing at me and realizing that they could not be mine. “He left without his clothes?”

I didn’t know and I wasn’t sure who he was asking, so I didn’t answer.

“Looks like,” the black woman agreed. “Do you know where he went, sugar?” she asked me.

“No,” I said. I looked around like I was searching for someone, then I shrugged and giggled.

“She’s high on something,” the man said. “Fucking junkie whore.” He glared at me so I stuck out my tongue again.

I said, “Meh!” at him, too. I noticed that he still had a bulge in his pants and that made me giggle.

“No man in the room, a druggie chick with no clothes,” said the man. He tossed the shirt from the back of the chair at the black lady. “Put this on her and get her out of here, Daisy.”

“I can’t throw her out in just a man’s shirt, sir,” the woman said. 

He shook his head, gathering up the pants and a pair of shoes from the floor into a bundle he put under his arm. “Look through the lost luggage in the storeroom behind the office, something will fit her.” He stormed out, “And get this room cleaned up!” he added before shutting the door.

When he was gone, I looked at the black woman. “Daisy?” I said to her.

She looked at me, smiling. “That’s me.” She held the shirt up, open, and I tried to put an arm through one of the sleeves but it was the wrong one and I still had the doll in that hand. “Landsake,” she said. “I guess you are on something.” 

She took the doll, laying it on the bed, then put the shirt on me, one sleeve at a time. It was big enough to cover my tits after she buttoned it up part way and it hung down to the middle of my thighs like a dress. 

I blushed. “Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome, sugar,” she said. “Here’s your dolly,” she added, handing it back to me. “You know my name, what do I call you?”

I thought about it. The man had called me a whore and other mean things but Daisy had called me something else. “Sugar,” I said, because it was true.

She laughed. “Because of your white hair?”

I looked at the doll in my hand and the girl in the mirror and giggled, nodding.