Janice was somewhat surprised to notice, when she woke up, that she had stopped breathing.
She wasn't too torn up about it, given the revelation of having an immortal soul. Still, it was a bit of a bummer, when she thought of how many movies she would never get to watch, how many books she would never get to read, and how many boys she would never get to fuck.
So… now what? She lay quietly in her bed, trying not to gross herself out with thoughts of how her skinny corpse was going to putresce. Shouldn't I be floating up to Heaven, or falling down to Hades, or chilling in the Halls of Mandos, or something? Where's the bright light? Maybe somebody lost the paperwork.
Nobody was around to hear her grumblings, but not too many hours passed before her father opened her bedroom door to inquire why she hadn't gotten ready for work—then stoically closed it again, muttering something about "damn carbon monoxide" and "fucking malfunctioning boiler". It's a good thing my soul can see and hear in all directions even while my body's eyes and ears are rotting, Janice thought absently as the paramedics bundled her into an ambulance.
She watched with detached interest as various clinical-looking people pawed over her body. (I feel like time is moving faster now, she thought to herself. Is my soul finally falling loose from my body? But, of course, it wasn't.) Before long, the funeral rolled around, and Janice's coffin was six feet underground.
Well, fuck, Janice thought to herself in the black silence of the tomb. I guess this new fast-forward ability will stop me from going insane (can a ghost even go insane?)—but what a fucking bummer. Did someone really fail so badly that I'm just going to be left here on Earth? Wow.
To her surprise, however, it wasn't long (as far as she could tell with neither a clock nor the sky—that is to say, not very far) before daylight once again fell on her moldering remains.
Janice blinked up (Wait, how can I blink if I don't have eyelids? I guess my psychic self-image still matches my old body, or something dumb like that.) with her ghostly nightvision (it was the middle of the night, of course) at the frowning face of her younger brother, Jason, who had opened her coffin with one hand while holding a shovel in the other. "Fuck. Why'd Janice-chan have to die so soon? I was right on the verge of propositioning her, too."
Janice let out a ghostly sigh. Really? After all this retardation, the universe is going to pile on incestuous necrophilia like a cherry on top? This is so stupid. But she could offer no resistance as Jason put on some gloves and gingerly stuffed her corpse into a large burlap sack.
And now it turns out that my brother is such a fucking epic-tier drug dealer that he can pay people to—what is this shit again?
"This is perfect!" Jason half-shouted to himself in a somewhat-unhinged tone of voice as he paced restlessly around the biggest bedroom in his mansion (He must be a pretty good entrepreneur to have all this money at such a young age, Janice had to begrudgingly admit), with the burlap sack that held Janice placed unobtrusively in a corner. "Fat Tony's connections in Japan will turn Janice-chan into a doll—and I'll finally get to fuck her, just like I've wanted to do since the age of twelve! Score, 'ttebayo!"
What a fucking spaz. Well, she sighed, maybe the dollmaking process will separate my soul from this bag of bones, and I'll finally go on to my well-deserved rest…
But, of course, it wasn't to be. The Japanese dollmakers used a chemical process to make her meat slide right off her bones—and her soul stayed with her bones, which then got toughened up with some kind of natural cement instead of being replaced with metal. The joints were re-slicked with some kind of Teflon coating, and the muscles and ligaments became polymers and wires. The fat and skin was exactingly crafted to match hundreds of photographs that Jason provided. (Of course he had a spycam in the bathroom, that fucking creep. He must have been stalking me in other places, too, with some kind of high-end camera—or maybe he just paid his goons to do it! I can't believe I never noticed! UGH.)
At last, the fateful day arrived. By this point, Janice, having become resigned to her fate as a fuckdoll with a soul, had been fast-forwarding through most of the process—but the approach of a manically grinning Jason, who had opened her gift-wrapped package with lightning quickness, thrown her on the bed, torn off his clothes, and grown a large erection, brought her back to full wakefulness.
"Oh, Janice-chan! He-ere's Jason!" He jumped onto the bed and grabbed hold of the doll's breasts—realistic in proportion, but appearing almost large on a frame that mirrored the fashionable skinniness of Janice in life.
I can't believe this, thought Janice, in the last extremity of flabbergast, as her crazy weeaboo brother cooed over her supple doll-skin and waggled his throbbing willy over her glassy eyes. I literally can't even. How did it come to this? What did I do to deserve this farce of an existence? This is absolute fucking bullshit.
Yeah, go on, Jason, she continued cynically, as the boy in question clambered back toward the foot of the bed and lined up for entry. ("Isn't it amazing, Janice-chan?" he babbled to himself. "Self-lubricating, self-cleaning—it's almost like you're still alive!") Fuck me. FUCK this pathetic bowl of Cheerios. You think they didn't do any testing back in Chingchongland, Jason? she asked as he inserted himself and cried loud tears of joy at the sensation. ("Finally, Janice-chan, finally! At long last, you're mine!") Do you think I was even a virgin before you dug me up? I'm not your fucking waifu, Jason! Do you hear me, Jason? FUCKING KILL YOURSELF, YOU PATHETIC FUCKING FREAK!
However, her spectral shouts of hatred fell on deaf ears, and, with a final, energetic thrust, Jason emptied himself into the doll's receptacle (warmed by an internal heat source, of course).
Ugh, Janice thought to herself, as Jason fell forward and hugged the doll in exhausted ecstasy. I actually thought I felt something there. Well, whatever. Now that I've gotten that out of my system, maybe I can just fast-forward until this retard dies of old age, this doll gets incinerated, my bones are reduced to ash, and I finally go to wherever I'm supposed to go.
Strangely enough, however, her fast-forwarding ability seemed to grow weaker and weaker, and her sensing ability seemed to grow stronger and stronger, as (every eight hours, like clockwork, unless he was on a business trip) Jason unloaded blast after blast of semen into the doll's moist hole (Nothing but PIV? What a fucking weirdo.). Janice was frantic with worry. Fuck! What the fuck is going on? Every time he fucks me—no! No, every time he fucks the doll, I feel more attached to the world of the living! Does semen have some kind of magical property that fixes normally-ethereal souls in solid matter? Is that how babies are formed? Fuck, fuck, FUCK!
This last exclamation was prompted by the appearance of Jason himself at the foot of the bed. "Are you feeling up for another round of lovemaking, Janice-chan?" he crooned at the doll's glittering eyes as he knelt between its legs. "'Cause I know I am."
N-no! Janice gasped without lungs as Jason's thick penis entered her self-lubricating vagina. I can feel him now! Why can I feel—Mmmmmffff!
In and out, in and out went the throbbing shaft of meat—and, with every thrust, Janice could feel herself being bound more tightly to the rubber of the doll. Ohh, it feels so good! But—ahh—but how can I esca—ape? Do I even want to—oo escape? Oh, Jason!
"Oh, Janice-chan!" Jason exclaimed, deep in the throes of pleasure. "I love you so much! I'll never have a lover other than you, Janice-chan! Take all my love! Take it!"
And Janice was astonished to feel herself orgasm, as the hot semen spurted out of her brother's urethra and was absorbed by the lining of her fake vagina. Well, she panted in her own silent world, I guess this isn't so bad…