House Of Gord Dollmaker -

“Posture check,” he murmured.

“Would you like a closer look?” the Dollmaker asked. “I have another piece in the workshop. One that smiles.” House Of Gord Dollmaker

She was perfect. Her skin was high-gloss latex, the color of cream. Her joints were visible—not crude bolts, but elegant brass swivels, oiled and silent. Her eyes were wide, glassy, unblinking, painted with a permanent look of serene surprise. Her lips were parted just so, sealed in a perfect "O" around a breathing tube that connected to a tiny, silent bellows in her chest. “Posture check,” he murmured

The Dollmaker finally looked up. He smiled—thin, dry, avuncular. but elegant brass swivels