Ditched and Re-Placed

Brad’s heart skipped a beat. He froze in the door frame, looking at Serena and trying to figure out how she got there. He thought she had a sad smile on her face, as if reproaching him.

Emily said cops took her, did they somehow figure out that it belonged to me? Did they run fingerprints? But the results would surely take a lot longer than several hours to come in, wouldn’t they? Wait, perhaps Emily somehow knew about Serena and decided to prank me? Nah, I’m pretty sure she knew nothing. No way she’d keep it a secret if she knew. She’d tease me about it relentlessly. Besides, how could she have gotten into the locked room? She always stayed away from it.

While thinking these thoughts, Brad took off Serena’s socks. He could certainly see how from other people’s perspective this was funny. They probably all thought that he finished his business with Serena into the socks and put them on her. Like a trophy or something. He heard other guys with the sex dolls did that.

That’s where the dirty minds usually go. Perverts!

The truth was Brad didn’t like Serena’s feet. He didn’t have a foot fetish or anything like that, but Serena’s manufacturer certainly didn’t pay much attention to her feet or ran out of material and/or attention to detail. Serena’s toes were all fused together and ill-defined, and that freaked Brad out. She was so real otherwise! Without looking, he pulled the socks off her feet and put them into his pant pocket. He’ll dispose of them later.

As Brad went to the gun safe for Serena’s box, he saw Emily’s car pulling into the driveway. He hastily put Serena into the box, locked the box in the safe and left the hunting room.

“Honey, I’m home!” Emily said, entering. “What’s for dinner?”

They played that game from time to time: whoever gets home first takes care of the dinner.

“I just got home like five minutes before you, babe,” Brad responded, trying to be nonchalant.

“Oh, let’s order in then, because I’m certainly not in the mood for cooking,” Emily said playfully, pecking him on the lips. Brad’s mind was elsewhere, not even picking up on the ‘mood’ clue. Emily pulled away, gave him and evaluative look and asked, “Are you ok, babe?”

“Yeah, why?” Brad asked, afraid something was giving him away.

Emily pointed at his bulging pant pocket, “What’s that? Some surprise for me?”

“Oh, no, just some dirty socks I found that need to be washed,” Brad said guiltily, taking the socks out.

“Where d’you find them? Under the bed, as usual?” Emily now was openly teasing him as they did have those occasional fights about Brad throwing his dirty socks around. He got much better about it, though, since they started living together.

“Yeah, you may say so. What does my bride fancy for dinner?” he asked, trying to be playful as well.

They ordered some Chinese food from a local restaurant, watched a couple of episodes of Black Mirror and went to bed. Emily was in the mood for lovemaking and Brad obliged, even though his mind was not entirely in it.

Thoughts about Serena were nagging at him. He decided to check out first thing in the morning if the manufacturer had the recycling program, as Emily'd suggested. He couldn’t just burn the doll in the controlled burning pit on the farm as he was planning to do with the box. It would attract too much attention and there would be a lot of smoke because of the plastic Serena was made of. He couldn’t risk that environmental hazard…

It took Brad a couple of hours to drift away after Emily peacefully fell asleep on his chest.

***

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