dollification. doll fetish. dolls. dolly. dollie. dollific.

dollification: the process of evolving, mentally and physically, into a "living doll."
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 Post subject: New Member / New Story
PostPosted: Sun Dec 19, 2010 7:11 am 
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Joined: Sat Dec 18, 2010 9:06 pm
Posts: 1
Hello there... My name is Duvaine, an owner to-be, as my doll is still in her wrapping and arriving from overseas...

As I hope to find companions amongst kindred and toys, allow me a moment to being strong with a story I wrote recently and felt was applicable... I hope you enjoy.

***
"Do you understand?" said the man sitting across the way, on the opposite side of the room.
Jessica looked around briefly, confused. She felt like her mind was cloudy with sleep, but she couldn't imagine having fallen asleep in this room. The place looked like a psychiatrist's office, with large bookcases stacked high with esoteric books and journals. The man himself was rotund, with waggling jowls and unhealthy plum complexion. He wore thin framed glasses and had beady hamster's eyes which were crawling across her frame as she sat up straight, unconsciously correcting posture and sitting up without slouch.

Her eyes dropped down (mostly to make sure there was nothing exposed for the man's lavicious eyes to stare at), and found herself shocked to see herself wearing an outfit she would never wear in public, private, or in any possible alternate reality of the multiverse. The outfit was ripped from the pages of some fetish latex magazine, tight and form-fitting pink rubber molding itself to every curve of her body... She was in some kind of halter-top, wrapping around her neck and barely containing her c-cup breasts. Her nipples stood at attention, outlined in the contours of pink rubber. She was wearing long opera gloves of the same material, crawling up the length of her arms just below the elbows. Her hands were folded in her lap. The gloves were odd, in that they gave her use of her thumb, but the rest of the fingers were all bound together in a unified pink hand. She could move her fingers in unison, but moving them apart was impossible. There was a strap of white belt and below she was wearing some tight miniskirt that was short enough to leave the lower edges of her panties and sex visible. She could see the tracery of her lower lips straining against the tight rubber. Long rubber stockings began mid-thigh, ending in a enclosed rubber sock/foot that left no trace of toes. She was wearing pink stilettos of a staggering height.

Her eyes shifted to the left, where a standing mirror stood between high arching stacks of books. She glanced at her reflection, feeling strangely concerned that she could move her eyes, but her head seemed to not want to move. She didn't really want to do anything but stare forward either, but the glimpse she caught in the mirror demanded her sudden and undivided attention.

She was made up to an absurdist degree. Her hair, once straight and blonde, was a mass of tightly coiled rings falling perfectly around her shoulders. She was wearing a cap/bonnet looking thing at the top of her head of similar rubber material. Her face was that of a strangers... Her once dark eyes were now a crystalline blue, shining brightly. Smoky tracery and eyeshadow enhanced the natural largeness of her eyes, giving them the appearance of being huge eyes. Long fake soot lashes flowed from her eyes, past the edge of her face. Her cheeks were covered in round spots of bright rose. Her lips were painted a lurid cherry red. She looked like some kind of toy.

She suddenly felt aroused and moist. But something was strange. Sensation flooded her, her mind processed feelings and sensory input, nerve endings and synapses... But her mind was empty... Of... Content? She struggled momentarily to find the right word to describe her feeling... And then she realized. There were no words.

She opened her mouth, and tried to speak, but found herself incapable of uttering a sound. Only the low whisper of exiting breath escaped her, and for a moment she felt fear. It wasn't that she couldn't talk. It is that she had no words at all. She would be able to speak, if a single word enter her mind and stay there until she could speak it out loud... But no words came.. None existed within her head. Her mind was a rush of feelings and sensation, memories and events, but no language. No words. Nothing but sensation.

"Dolly Speak" said the rotund man in the rasping voice of a long time smoker. He was smiling widely and Jessica saw yellow stained teeth, with a bit of some green leftover stuck in his bottom teeth.

"Play with me!" words came out of her still open mouth.

A surreal sense of disassociation rushed through her... That was not her voice. It was some squeaky little girls voice, with a hint of seductive undertones... Playful and sensual, bright and chirpy. Like some little girl first learning the power of her sexuality. The words 'Play with me' were words that once spoken were recognized, with the intent and meaning intact. These might be the only words in the universe that carried any meaning for her mental state. 'Play with me' the words echoed in her head... And she was even hotter... Wetter. More aroused, though she didn't move or give any indication of the sudden rush of warmth running through her system... She liked those words 'Play with me' She understood them. She wanted to be played with. She needed to be played with... That was her function. That she understood. Along with two more words that echoed in her mind, even before they arose spoken from the rotund man's mouth.

"Good Doll" came the words. And she felt... falling... Down into sensation... She knew what the words meant. She always knew what the words meant. Pleasure overwhelming. All-encompassing... "Good Doll" came the sensation of twitching tingling orgasm, wracking through her body. Though she kept still. She kept steady and unblinking, staring at the man... The rushing sensation through her body was not betrayed by still lips, unblinking eyes or movement in her limbs... She was still... As a doll.

A Good Doll. She stood still, with the words carrying pleasure to every synapse in her body. She felt good. Good to be a doll. A good doll. She just needed to be played with. Played with. That was her function. Her purpose. Her reason to exist. She was filled with the pleasure, with a thrilling undercurrent of pure enraptured happiness. She felt fulfilled in her existence, filled with knowledge of what she was. What her purpose was. Her place in life.

She was a doll. A Good Doll.

She sat unblinking, hands folded in her lap, her feet pigeon-toed, cherry lips in perpetual sexy pout. Her eyes gleamed, shining as she waited to be played with. She stood looking at the man across from her, but her mind was unfocused and unthinking. She was simply idle... Waiting to be fulfilled. Waiting to be played with. By someone. Another word rose unbidden into her mind, a word to describe the man across from her. Or any man that would take this doll, and use her. And keep her. What every doll needed to be fulfilled in existence.

Her unblinking eyes watched as the man stood from his chair, grinning widely. He stood up and said another phrase that triggered her blank mind into motion. "Time to Play" She stood up, and held herself in a frozen standing pose of coquettish cuteness. She waited for the man to come and give her orders. To command and to adjust. To move her and throw her around. Adjusting her position to give him the most satisfaction. To use her. To use... She tried to remember her name for a moment... But she had been given none. The more she struggled to remember a name, the more she realized there was simply nothing to remember... She was a unnamed doll. Waiting for someone, the man who approached grinning widely, ready to use his doll.

Her owner.

"Good Doll" he spoke to her, as he drew her to him and began to play.

***


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 Post subject: Re: New Member / New Story
PostPosted: Wed Feb 09, 2011 4:46 pm 
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Joined: Wed Feb 09, 2011 4:40 pm
Posts: 4
curtsey

that was a very nice short story. this dolly would like to read more of it and to see a discription of what was done to her and why and an explanation for why her hands were like that.

will You please be so kind as to wright more?


Mistress Jess' dolly


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