Sunday, February 22, 2009

a short story

found on deviant art and used with permission by the author: Crimson Pimpernel.

Living Doll

Daniel turned the wrought iron door handle and pulled the solid oak door open. A lump weighed down his stomach, making him feel like he had swallowed a ball of solid lead. A crack of sunlight revealed a thousand pairs of glassy eyes staring into the musty darkness of the toy store's shadowy corridor.

The idea that anyone bought anything from this place was a miracle beyond his comprehension.

The sound of metal on porcelain danced through the air like the footfalls of some awkward metal pixie. Daniel approached the only semblance of light he could possibly determine wasn't supernatural, the doorway to the toy maker's workshop. The entrance to the room glowed like the maw of a terrifying beast. His eyes fell upon the toymaker, hunched over the workbench. The toy maker's pale forehead and cheeks shimmered with sweat. A look of surprise crept across his face as he realized the curvaceous form of the toymaker. Her deep green eyes seemed to stare into the young man's very soul and lay to bare every single one of his secrets. She placed the doll mask down on the table, her thin, soft fingers tracing the doll's lips which where curled and tightened into a rather surprised “O”shape.

“Your name is Daniel, correct?” The woman's voice was like the surface of the dolls she so lovingly crafted, smooth, cool, soft at first impression but in truth was harder than ice.

“Uh, yeah. You needed a temp, right?” Daniel's eyes had all the look of a deer caught in the headlights of a panzer. “That's correct. Tell me, Daniel” The toymaker began, taking up the surprised doll mask and examining it carefully, admiring the convincing look of the blushing beauty she had hand crafted. “...Do you like dolls?”

Dolls had no real significance to the young man. “Er...They're fine I guess.” Better think of a way to appeal to her, or I could be in deep. He thought frantically to himself. “Er, I mean I love dolls! I play with them all the time!” The words shot out, like a bird let loose from it's cage, wild, unpredictable, and ultimately big trouble.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be cared for, played with every day?” The woman's words hung in the air among the dust motes. Daniel took the question as his cue to run. He slowly backed away towards the room's entrance and quickly whipped around and ran for the door.

However, his dash was interrupted by something small wrapping around his ankle. The floor became too close to his face for comfort.

The world went white.

Daniel awoke to a feeling of something cold and hard clasping around his legs. His eyes opened, letting the world come into focus just enough so he could see the toymaker had covered his feet and legs in a pair of cool, jointed porcelain stockings, locking them in place with a cruel looking iron key. He reached out to pull the porcelain leggings off, only to find his hands and arms themselves were forced into the inhibiting porcelain armor. His fingers were forced into a straight, flat, formation, reminding him of the cheap Bruce Lee movies he was so fond of. His faithful skull-and-crossbones boxers had been replaced with a pair of hello kitty panties (Not that he could feel them through the chastity belt.)

He opened his mouth, preparing to chew the terrible woman out, however, his tyraid was interrupted by a cool, sleek, metal ring gag. It was fastened tightly over his head with almost no effort. His loud and rage-fueled statements only coming out as: “Araraaaa! Raaaa! Aaa!”

The toymaker giggled at the captive boy attempts to escape, his porcelain coated feet attempting to stand the boy up from the fluffy pink chair she had so efficiently fastened him to.

“And now,” She chirped, “For the Piece de resistance” Her voice was sugary sweet, terrifying to the trapped young man.
'Was this it? Was she going to kill me? Inject me with heroine? Oh god, what if she sells me to white slavery?!' The thoughts swirled in his mind in a chaotic torrent of terror. His hands trembled in the hard porcelain covers. The toymaker held something he couldn't see in her hands. He assumed the worse and clenched his eyes tight, not wanting to witness the terrors he would soon endure.

Something tight and rubbery covered his head, pressing his hair down against his head. He looked up at the toymaker, rather confused as to what had happened. “Just a little vinyl rubber hood to keep your pretty little face from getting dirty.” She playfully patted his rubber-covered cheek before slipping the blinding porcelain mask over his face. Bright blue glass eyes covered his own, leaving him unable to see anything. Something hard and sharp pricked his neck, and once more, the world went white.

“Do you like her?” The Toymaker hovered over her patron's shoulder. The red headed woman admired the look of the life-sized doll who looked up at her with cheerful eyes and a perpetual look of surprise that seemed to practically screamed. “Oh my goodness” In a sugar-coated voice that would make Sherlie Temple jealous. The patron licked her ruby lips with a silken pink tounge. “I'll take her.” She finally told the toymaker with a cheerful smile. The doll's pink ruffled dress bobbed up and down as her pointed feet attempted to pull her from the harness that held her to the wall of the store.

The doll struggled and grunted with “Excitement” as “She” was carried away to the red Camero. A new life of “playtime” Would be in her future.


Author's Comments
I decided to deviate a little from the latex path and explore the possibility of Porcelain in bondage. But then again, no real ties or chains are used, perhaps our little doll enjoyed their transformation?


check out his page for some more doll related fetish fiction.



Anonymous said...

nice story, gets the cinema of the mind going.

Elizabeth Rees said...

It's okay... needs fleshing out though. By the time you're getting into it, it's over.