Grace: Boss' Assistant Sex Doll — An Unexpectedly Detailed Encounter

The Name Alone, Right?

Grace. Boss’ Assistant. I mean, whoever named her must have had a sense of humor or just—maybe they were bored that day? It’s one of those things you scroll past on an absolute sex dolls site and do a double-take. But… curiosity is a weird beast. I clicked, obviously.

Size Matters (But Not In The Way You Think)

She’s 5 feet 5 inches tall—165 cm if you’re into metrics or pretending to be European for the day. That’s taller than I expected, honestly. Kind of makes you rethink what “life-size” means when you’re dragging an 80 lb (36 kg) silicone sex doll out of the box and nearly pulling your back in the process. Her proportions are almost cartoonish but not quite: F cup boobs (sorry, breasts), long legs, hips at 36.8 inches, waist at this impossible 21.3 inches… like someone tried to remember what people look like from memory after a few drinks.

And yet—the details matter more than I thought they would.

Movable Joints & Steel Skeletons: A Strange Source Of Respect

You don’t expect to feel quietly impressed by engineering when you’re unboxing something called “Boss’ Assistant.” But here we are. There’s this steel skeleton inside her—movable joints everywhere—which means she holds poses better than most people in my last yoga class did.

It’s not perfect; sometimes the elbow gets stuck at this weird angle and it looks like she’s about to ask for a raise or something, but mostly? It works.

Silicone Skin Is Weirder Than You’d Guess

Here comes the awkward part: touching her skin is both uncanny and… oddly satisfying? Silicone doesn’t feel exactly human (no surprises there), but it also isn’t cold plastic either. There’s some give to it—a softness that makes you pause and think about how far these love dolls have come since those inflatable disasters from decades ago.

I caught myself poking her arm just because it bounced back in this way that was almost hypnotic.

Not-So-Subtle Details

Vagina depth: 6.7 inches. Anal depth: 6.3 inches. (Yes, they list these as “hole depths”—and yes, someone somewhere probably spent hours measuring them with scientific precision.)

I’m not going into graphic detail here because… well, there are limits even for me—but let’s just say everything is where it should be anatomically speaking. And functional too; vaginal and anal sex is possible with zero fuss (except maybe moving her around). For those who care about such things—cup size is F, shoe size hovers around women’s 4.5-5 (not that I ever planned on buying shoes for a doll).

Shipping Surrealism

One thing nobody tells you: waiting three weeks for a silicone companion feels stranger than actually owning one. Processing takes forever—2-3 weeks before anything ships out—and then another week before she lands at your door in what might be the world’s most boring brown box (discreet packaging really means discreet).

There was this moment when the delivery guy handed over this heavy plain box without blinking an eye—professionalism or pure apathy? Hard to say.

Odd Realization At Midnight

Somewhere between trying to figure out how to pose Grace so she didn’t look like she’d topple off my couch and reading through all those specs again (“bust: 33 inches,” “under bust: 24.5”), I realized these absolute sex dolls aren’t really about replacing anyone—they’re more like elaborate sculptures with benefits.

It becomes less about fantasy fulfillment and more about noticing little things—the way light catches on silicone skin or how movable joints make her seem almost alive for half a second if you squint right.

Weirdly enough—I found myself talking out loud while moving her arms around (“No Grace, we do not sit like that”). Maybe that says more about me than anything else here.

One Last Tangent Before I Forget

If you’ve ever wondered why anyone would bother with something so elaborate as a steel-skeletoned brunette love doll with F-cup boobs… well—I guess sometimes it’s just fun seeing what happens when engineering collides with fantasy marketing copywriting gone wild.

Anyway—I can see why some folks get attached (pun not intended). This whole experience left me thinking less about perfection and more about odd little details—the ones nobody mentions in reviews but kind of stick with you afterward.

That shipping box is still sitting by my door collecting dust… might use it as storage now? Or maybe not yet—still deciding if Grace wants company out there in the hallway tonight or prefers the couch again tomorrow morning.