with ideas and elements from Asudem Kasei - originally soley published on her blog- sadly gone so now here in full.
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! No really, please stop... you're flattering me!" Monica was indeed flattered, and more than a little pleased that her friends had noticed how shapely her legs had become. "Thank you though, it's true, and I never could have done it with you!"
Her life had changed in so many ways since meeting the girls. It's hard to believe it was only three weeks since they found her lost purse at the mall. They were so kind to return it, and then take her shopping for all sorts of new clothes. It was like they had an instant connection. They suggested what to buy and right away she had to have it. Ever since then, shopping and tea with the girls had become part of her daily routine.
"But really it's true, all those amazing shoes that we bought. I never used to wear heels, but now I can't get enough." It was true. She walked in them all the time, even in her sleep, nothing less than five inches. Her clothes had likewise changed (for the better, she thought). Instead of loose jeans and frumpy sweats, she happily paraded around in skimpy skirts and tiny dresses. In fact, they were all she wore.
"Please... have... some... more... cake" offered her good friend Sandra, sitting pert and cute as always, with her immaculate face and figure.
"Oh no, I couldn't possibly... well, maybe just one more..." Mmmm, it tasted so good! Monica greedily devoured her third slice, topped with thick sugary icing and loads of whipped cream. She couldn't figure it out. It seemed like she never stopped eating when she was out with the girls, but the pounds just kept falling off. She shoveled forkload after forkload into her mouth. "Mmph, aren't you going to have any?"
"We... never... eat..." intoned Barbara, seated almost stoically in place, as she had the entire conversation.
"Well then, more for *gulp* me" she happily replied, and helped herself to another slice. Strange, she never really noticed this before, but Sandra and Barbara never ate a single bite, and yet their kitchen was always stocked with every treat imaginable. Come to think of it, they never even blinked... not once!
"Is... something... wrong... Monica?" asked Barbara, perfect smile not quivering in the slightest.
"No, nothing! I was, uh... just noticing how beautiful your eyes were." Monica shook her head. Clearly there was something wrong with her. Sandra and Barbara were nothing but kind. Her life was a mess before she met them. They taught her how to walk and talk, always with a smile. Always. She admired their glamour and wanted to be just them in every way imaginable. Why then was she beginning to notice that certain things seemed... off?
"Your... eyes... are... beautiful... too..." said Sandy. At least, she thought it was Sandy, because suddenly realized that both of their mouths were incapable of movement.
She felt dizzy. Her eyes glazed over and suddenly everything looked... different. They entire room, it was completely... plastic. She tried to blink, but found it impossible. On her plate, she saw the half-eaten remnants of her cake, except it looked more like a toy than actual food, made of molded styrofoam and pieces of sponge.
"Is... something... wrong... Monica?" Sandra tilted her head ever so slightly, but that perfect shining smile remained unfazed.
Monica wanted to gag, but all that came out was a stifled little giggle. "Ha, ha... What's going on? Who are you?" It was then that Monica realized her entire skin was shiny and smooth, almost hard to the touch. All those lotions that they gave her, that she applied diligently every night... and those eyedrops. Now why did she want to use eyedrops? She struggled to blink, again to no avail.
"Now... you... can... see... what... we... are... and... what... you... are... becoming..."
"No, I... I don't want this. I never wanted..." her soft gentle words belied the panic in her heart, wide happy smile frozen permanently in place. Monica struggled to think, and it occurred to her that she had no idea where she was or how she got there. The past three weeks were really just a blur. In fact, she could not be entirely sure that she ever really left this apartment.
"Come... let's... do... your... hair..." chirped Sandra, her doll-like features now fully apparent.
"Yes... that... sounds... lovely" replied Monica, knowing deep down that she still wanted to be exactly like her glamorous friends, in every way. "Could... we... make... it... blonde... like... yours?"
"Of... course... Monica" said Barbara, betraying for the first time the slightest glimmer in her smile. "Anything... you... want."
I want to go home, cried Monica in her head. "I... want... to... be... a... doll... like... you." She rose, and only for a moment felt stiffness in her limbs. The next moment she was flowing with grace and elegance, just like Sandra and Barbara.
a year later…
Barbie happily watched the shoppers pass by her window. Now, it wasn't really hers, because she shared it with Sandy, who was very possessive. When the lights went off and the mall was closed, she took Barbie to the playhouse and reminded her of things (oh, the clothes she made her wear!) but when the mall was open, the two of them stood like perfect mannequins, smiling and bright, thrilled to be decked out in the latest fashions for all of the world to see.
Now and then, Barbie saw a face in the crowd, like someone from a dream or a long forgotten friend. Once in a while, they would catch her eye, and pause for moment, as if she was familiar... but only for a moment. Those were the times Barbie wanted to scream, until the next person passed, and her thoughts returned to pretty flowers and rainbows, anything to distract her from what the night held in store.
Monica stopped by every week or so, and would whisper some words to Sandra. She never said anything to Barbie. In fact, she never even looked at her, just patted her ass on the way out. Barbie got the impression that Monica would like her better if she made every effort to be docile and obedient. Yes, that and a gift would be perfect. She knew Monica liked purses. Perhaps one of these shoppers would help her out? Somebody absent-minded and with low self esteem...