She lay the miniature doll on her palm as gently as she could, scrutinizing it closely, turning it this way and that, amazed by the detail and the remarkably soft and giving feel, a little spoiled by the fact that it was completely and utterly soaked in her piss, ruining its clothes completely; it was still quite warm. It was dressed in a short-sleeved T-shirt and matching close-fitting breeches, that had been white but were now stained yellow with urine, she noted with distaste and shame. She could not keep her lips from curving up at the oddity of his very well made soldier’s boots, clashing completely with the rest of its outfit.

The doll’s head and limbs lolled limply as she examined it. It had its eyes closed and its hair, she again observed with chagrin, was matted to its head with piss. Its mouth was slightly open, and she could even glimpse miniature white teeth, incredibly well-crafted. She got it closer to her eyes to best see its, or rather, his, face. His jet black hair was cut short as a soldier, and his features were rather handsome, rather dark-skinned and strong-looking.

His arms were proportionately thick and toned, she noted, pressing lightly over them and looking at his unbelievably detailed hands, with tiny fingernails and all; they felt incredibly soft and pliable under her fingertips. She was almost afraid to handle him further, everything was so detailed, and he felt so fragile! Her gaze rested, involuntarily, on his crotch. She could barely make a slight bulge there through the tight and almost insubstantial clothes clinging to the doll’s midsection with moisture… could it be? Looking around her slyly, she noticed no one was there to see what her filthy mind was telling her to find out. Is he anatomically correct?

Her moment of hesitation was brief. Sticking her tongue out slightly as she frowned with concentration, she got the doll even closer to her eyes and tried to pinch the waist of the doll’s pants but failed. The cloth was just too thin and clinging too much to his body from the gross dampness she had unleashed upon it. She did not want to scratch him or something, so she changed her approach. Instead of trying to grasp the fabric, she curled her index finger slightly and inserted her fingernail between the doll’s abdomen and the pants, sliding them down slowly and carefully, but deliberately to the doll’s knees.

When she took her finger away from his body, she again gasped in delight: nested in a cute patch of dark hair, a completely realistic penis stuck out between the doll’s legs. She felt a little disappointed at the tiny cock’s size. It was small but very cute, like a tiny bud. She had had the hope the doll was well endowed and standing to attention, but she imagined the craftsman or craftswoman probably did not have Melina’s sexual interests in mind when crafting this incredible doll.

Almost without thinking, she extended her index finger again and fondled the little prick. It felt astoundingly soft and warm, and she saw it move and roll under her finger pad. Getting more interest by the second, she carefully pinched it between her index and thumb and lifted it to get a peek at his balls. Yep. They were there. As she held the tiny cock, rather enjoying how it felt, lightly rolling it between her finger pads, she was thrilled to discover that it was throbbing and getting noticeably harder and bigger. She took her finger away and saw that it was now sticking out noticeably from the doll’s body, in fact, it was so large and thick and erect now compared as how it was before that it looked quite odd and out of place to her, who just before was mentally complaining of the doll’s only modest virile endowment. She thought that walking around with such a large… thing between your legs must be quite awkward.

This did not deter her in the least for her explorations, as she kept fondling the tiny, fleshy straw of a penis, hoping against reason that the functionality of the doll went all the way, and improbably, the tiny cock got even bigger and harder. As she kept relentlessly stroking him as delicately as she could, and getting undeniably aroused herself in the process, she spared a glance at the doll’s face and took her hand away with a girlish yelp, barely keeping from covering her mouth with her hand, filthy with her own piss, and barely keeping from dropping the doll. It… he… had opened his eyes, and was looking up at her with wide, dark eyes. Eyes wide with fear and disbelief. Only then did she notice his tiny ribcage heaving like a little bird caught by a cat. This is not a doll… it is a tiny man!!!