Human Doll

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Self-important business woman becomes a doll.
3.5k words
4.13
297.5k
113

Part 1 of the 4 part series

Updated 08/30/2017
Created 06/25/2011
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"What have you done to me?" Rose squeaked, in a long out-breath. Her voice sounded like a windup dolls as though a string had been pulled from her back. "What have you done to me?" she squeaked again, confirming the impression a string had been pulled.

It wasn't her voice that worried her it was the body she had woken up with. She was a young attractive woman with a super ego to match, or at least she had been a few days ago.

A continuous recording had played through earphones a carefully built scenario over the past few days, while she was unconscious. A cocktail of drugs had been given to keep her unconscious and to leave her mind susceptible to the voice re-building her self-image.

Bill wasn't sure it would work as there were bound to be bugs in the system this first time it was tried. Her reaction on waking seemed to confirm some success. He picked her because she had been particularly annoying. The future of the project depended on a decision from her to continue funding. She had been unimpressed with the profitability figures despite the project being a benefit to accident victims.

The program had been quickly modified for her with the aim of teaching her how disastrous it was to loose control of bodily functions. The drugs and equipment were designed to teach the brain to quickly re-learn to walk after brain damage.

There was nothing wrong with her physically or mentally but she thought there was and would continue to until he set her free by reversing the program. A couple of hours should do it.

She struggled to sit up so he naturally helped her. Sitting on the high tech bed she looked stiff and awkward as though it was difficult to control her limbs.

"What have you don't to me?" she repeated, with a plaintive tone in the doll like voice.

Bill wondered what she was seeing, how she was seeing herself. The program had been quickly cobbled together and there had been no time to adjust it to her personality. It had been continuous too rather than a series of short sessions.

He had been angry from the supercilious manner in which she had dismissed the project without even knowing how important it was to patients. So it wouldn't make a profit immediately. Long term it had tremendous potential and he was going to teach her that the hard way. A couple of hours should do it then another hour undoing what had been done to her.

"What do you think I've done to you?" he asked.

"You bastard, I'll sue you for every penny you have for this!" she squeaked. Her face screwed up with pain, not from any physical problem, because the mental image she had was so very difficult to take.

He was used to teasing out from patients how they felt and what they could feel of their limbs but this explosion of viciousness was unfamiliar. He looked at her seeing a self-important business woman too busy to bother with little details. She was too busy to consider minor details like helping people to lead normal lives again.

He stood looking into her blue eyes. His big brown eyes held sympathy and understanding but she couldn't see that. She kept staring at her legs and held her arms out from her body as though they were dirty, contaminated with something nasty.

"My body, my beautiful body, you've taken it away. I don't want this plastic dolls body, I want my human body back," she squeaked out plaintively.

So it was confirmed, that was what she could see. The recording didn't just over-write the mind it shaped it toward accepting the damage and to give strength to overcome the disability. Accepting a prosthetic limb and helping the mind to relearn to control that limb, was the true program but this quick change was turning out rather strangely.

"What have you done with my body? I want it back now!" she demanded, only the silly squeaky noise denied it any authority. The more forcefully she commanded compliance the more comical it became.

He kept a straight face. "If this isn't you're body whose then?" he asked.

"It's a doll or a manikin, one of your plastic bodies for patients. You know what you've done to me! It's hideous. Do something and quickly," she demanded, with the same outrage.

So that was it. She had completely misread the reports on the project just as he had thought. He watched her examining both hands, the movements awkward, with fascination and a touch of horror. He had intended for her to awake thinking she had been subjected to the project but not to this extent. Her own imagination had worked with the suggestion and programming to build this bizarre scene.

He nearly reacted with a belly laugh. The stupid bitch thought he had replaced her entire body. Impossible! She had no idea what he was doing here yet she took the decision to cut funding. His lifetimes work slashed by a short sighted accountant.

"What is wrong with it, don't you like it?" he asked, with the intention of provoking her. Her mouth worked around words that couldn't catch up with what she wanted to say. "I thought you might like a superior body to see how vital my work is. That body will last longer than yours and won't grow old. I will help you learn to control it and I'm sure you will find it an excellent replacement," he lied.

She looked stunned, unable to speak once more. For a moment he wondered why she wasn't crying for she looked as though she wanted to. Of course! She thought she couldn't, so won't cry. A relief, for he would have given in immediately. As it was he wanted to carry on the joke a little longer.

"Here, let me help you down, you should get dressed," he suggested.

He swung her legs round to the edge of the bed. She sat there a moment with a look of worry creasing her brow.

"No, I can't, it doesn't matter," she murmured.

"What?" he asked, sounding solicitous, as he really did have to know what she was thinking, for when he put things right.

"It doesn't matter if it is better or longer lasting I need my body back," she squeaked, no longer sounding so sure of herself.

"I'm not sure I still have it," he teased. The look on her face revealed such pain it was obviously more than just a tease to her.

"Why? What have you done with it?" she moaned. The voice sounded very funny now.

"It has been put up for sale. It was in fine working order so rich people were interested in it," he said. Lifting a tiny mobile 'info grab' to his face he spoke into it. "Where is female body 367?" He looked at the screen that displayed a shopping list. "This is the one. A rich client has purchased it for a Miss Fortune," he said. "She hasn't been in an accident. She is thirty-two so everything is probably in working order. It doesn't say what she is doing with her body so you could have that one," he said with a slight smile, meant to placate her.

"How could you do that?" she squeaked, in an even higher octave.

"It will pay for a few months research. After all, you, cut the budget so I have to find the funds somewhere else," he scolded her.

"This woman has it? What does she do?" Rose asked, in a pleading tone.

"In the entertainment industry," he began.

"Oh! No! Miss Fortune! Entertainment industry? She might be a stripper, using my body, showing it off to strangers. Shit! She might be a whore! Please don't tell me she is out there using my body!" she pleaded.

He looked at the little device as though consulting it, giving him time to get a grip on the laughter boiling up inside. "No. She hasn't taken delivery yet," he told her. "Here let me help you onto your feet. Take it easy you'll have to learn to walk," he said.

She wasn't worried about being completely naked before him as it wasn't her body she was revealing just a plastic dolls.

He stood her up holding onto her as she wobbled around on unstable legs. He was used to patients but this was different. He was suddenly aware of how attractive she was. She had large breasts over a slim waist with long tapering legs. Slim thighs and thin ankles made them seem so long, so enticing.

She was a natural blond too. He wondered how she saw herself, whether she still had female parts or the smooth crotch of a storefront manikin. He didn't feel comfortable asking or touching her to see how she reacted.

Rose figured it would be best to regain full control of this body in case she needed it. It was also imperative she gained his confidence and co-operation for no-one else knew how to put her back into her own body. At that thought she gave a little shudder and would have sobbed if she could.

It would be nice to have a life sized doll like this to play with. He would soon teach her she had a vagina and how to use it. He quickly shut off the thought. He was beginning to harden and that would be dangerous. There was only so far he could go with this game and going too far would be perilous to the project. So far what had been done to her mind could be undone.

Instead of the usual meticulous procedures in teaching someone to control their coordination he simply took a hold of her hands leading her around the laboratory. Of course she knew how to walk for it was still her body, she just thought it wasn't. For a moment he fooled himself starting to fall into the usual routine.

They paused a moment with his arm around her slim waist. She looked into a long mirror and gasped. "It's so, so, real looking," she said. The squeaky voice was prominent, almost emphasised. "My features are very nearly the same. I have all the bits down there," she said.

Getting used to the voice he recognised embarrassment. She may only be looking at a plastic manikin but she was inside it and it was naked.

"Are the breasts bigger?" she asked.

He looked at her pretending to study the manikin body knowing it was hers and that everything was very real and very feminine. He looked again, studying her breasts and waist. Was it an optical illusion from having lost weight? The drip was just meant to keep her hydrated so she would have lost some weight, yet her breasts did look bigger.

"I'm not sure," he said, as though commenting on an experiment. "I haven't seen your previous body," he lied.

She could tell he was lying. He must have undressed her and prepared her body for someone else. She studied the doll in the mirror and decided the breasts were bigger as well as the waist being slimmer. He wasn't showing much interest in the new enhanced body, probably from being too used to seeing them. That was a pity for she could have used it to influence him, after all it was just a doll she could control, so why not use it to capture his co-operation.

In the mirror she took a good look at him and noticed a stirring in his trousers. Unless he kept pygmy ferrets down there he was interested so she had a chance after all.

Leaning over the bed she pressed the thighs together feeling the lips of the doll's pussy squeezed between them. She looked over her shoulder at him. Angling her head in what she hoped was a submissive pose. She looked through long eyelashes at him. "I might be able to get used to this body. Does it work like mine?" she asked, trying to sound coy.

"What do you mean?" he asked, only half listening for he was looking intently at her bottom.

"It's embarrassing, I mean," she tried, but couldn't continue for it really was embarrassing. She looked away, closing her eyes, before trying again. "Am I a woman? No, I mean physically am I a woman, can I feel everything properly," she asked, in a whisper.

He explained a few improvised pseudo technical details which she didn't understand but guessed at. It would serve the purpose if she could entice him to try it. Had he tried the body before she had occupied it? If so the doll was all the more interesting with her inside it. She hoped.

"Could you do me a big favour? Show me. Show me I'm not just a big dolly, that I'm still a woman. Please, would you do that for me?" she pleaded.

It sounded like a windup doll asking for a tummy rub. That gave him an idea. He would ask her to be more specific. Forcing her to ask him for intercourse would be so humiliating for her. When the whole situation was revealed to be just a game she would be too embarrassed to tell anyone. He couldn't go so far as to take her though.

He studied her ass, seeing how hard and tight the cheeks were. They were separated to reveal a little asshole. Below that were the lips protruding rudely between slim thighs. They were glistening too.

"You could put me back and offer this body to that woman. You said it's stronger so she could use it more than a human body, couldn't she?" Rose said, with a sense of purpose in her voice. "Try it, see if it works," she said, trying to sound neutral, as though it didn't really matter what they did to a doll's body. It wasn't real, it wasn't her, it was just a doll, she rationalised.

She closed her eyes, hearing his shoes squeak on the clean tiled floor as he took a couple of steps closer. Even if he wasn't interested in a plastic doll he might be scientifically curious. She would try her hardest to be seductive despite this distinct disadvantage of not having a living breathing body.

She felt his arms circle around her waist as though testing the idea it was slimmer. His hands went up to her breasts and cupped them, weighing them. Was this scientific interest or just a man taking a hold of her big tits?

She reminded herself sharply they weren't hers they were just a plastic dolls, so it didn't matter what he did with these artificial lumps. It was a relief to remember he was the only one in this project so there wasn't a spotty apprentice touching up her real body in the laboratory next door. The thought of some stranger taking advantage of her body while it was helpless in storage somewhere, heated her up. Her breathing rate increased.

What if that woman was a whore and she obtained the use of her body? Perhaps it was her pimp purchasing a younger body to please the punters. The woman wouldn't care what was done to a purchased body so it could be worn out by over use; too many men with too many strange fetishes. Once passed its youthful flush it might be passed on to an older more desperate whore with even less moral reticence. The dolls breathing became ragged.

A terrible image came to mind, of colleagues finding her in a whorehouse. She might be in a private apartment where the most despicable tricks could be performed. They would find it a grand amusement abusing the office ice maiden. They wouldn't be able to resist taking her, making her perform the most disgusting and debased acts imaginable. The doll gasped a deep intake of breath.

All those men she had snubbed, treated with disdain, could take revenge on her body for the whore wouldn't care as long as they paid. An innocent kiss at a party or too tight a squeeze on the dance floor had been denounced. Now they could have her performing like a brazen hussy, like the whore she would be.

Friend's husbands could spank her bare bottom or dress her up in fetish wear. Single colleagues could take her out on the town dressed as a cheap whore, knowing how particular she was with her clothes. It would be a singularly fitting revenge for someone who was conservative in their dress sense, to wear a micro mini skirt and see through blouse. The doll exhaled a deep breath of outrage yet becoming more inflamed.

Bill had one hand on a breast squeezing it and tweaking a nipple. The other hand drifted over her bottom grazing the fine down then alighted on pubic hairs with the lightest of touches. Finger tips stretched toward her lips then backed off to concentrate on inner thighs.

She pressed her bottom against him and found his penis, liberated from his trousers moments before. On finding it she pushed her bottom against it devilishly gripping it with both cheeks. She went on tiptoe to manoeuvre herself onto it but couldn't lift high enough. In frustration she rubbed her bottom up and down its length trying to enrage his passion, needing him to just take her.

"Do it, just do it," she moaned.

His fingers skated over her lips avoiding delving in, avoiding her searching thrusts. He moved his fingers away when she tried to move herself onto them. "Tell me what you want," he whispered in her ear, saying it on a heavy breath of air blown into an ear.

"Do me, please, just do me," she croaked.

"Do you mean the doll?" he asked.

"Yes! Fuck the doll, fuck the whore doll, please! Please fuck the whore doll, fuck it now!" Rose whined, sounding as though the string had knots in it.

He pushed her forward gripping her hips with both hands. His hard cock rubbed between her cheeks as she was stretched over. She kept her legs straight brazenly presenting her sex to him. In her mind she used the excuse it was just a plastic dolls sex she was offering.

He slid his cock forward toward her open wet sex hole. The head slid across her wet lips lubricating it, not that it was needed as she gaped for him as though gasping for air. She wriggled her hips then her thighs trying to entice him in as well as capture the teasing cock.

"Please!" she implored.

"Please, what?" he mocked.

She didn't care. Desperation overcame reticence and even moral values. Was she controlling a doll or was it controlling her. The thought appeared then quickly fled. "Please fuck your doll, fuck the doll, drill it, cock it, please," she yelped, in gasps.

He drove his cock in intending to bury it but she anticipated the stroke and gripped it hard as it entered her. She squeezed hard gripping it wanting to feel it all not wanting to lose it. He pulled back feeling the grip loosen then plunged in, all the way his cock penetrated her vagina stretching it filling her up with cock. He pulled back pushing on her hips.

"More! Fuck me harder! Fuck your whore doll hard, use your fuck doll, please. Please sir, more fucking harder!" she exclaimed, in one rush of an out-breath through an open mouth. Her nostrils flexed and flared with air sucked and blown through them. She ground her teeth pushed back onto his cock when he thrust in and followed it when he pulled back.

"Tell me what you want," he stirred her. He was still in control and marvelled at the way she let loose. It was impressive how sexed up she had become. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. In a mirror he could see the contorted expression of anger on her face and how hard she gripped her nipples. The thought that he shouldn't be doing this was lost sometime ago.

Her legs began to tremble and she hissed through clenched teeth. "Keep still! Please don't move."

At that moment he began to orgasm. Knowing she was orgasmic had set him off. He had to thrust forward with every muscle available in a desperate primeval need to drive deep inside her body, to reach her womb with his seed. He held her balancing on tiptoe with a slight prodding movement confirming he was as deep as possible.

Rose collapsed into the mattress with his weight holding her down, not that she had the strength to rise. Her whole body felt complete as though it had been filled by his seed. A large smile lit her face. She was a happy contended doll.

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12 Comments
DesireeFoxDesireeFoxalmost 11 years ago
Interesting concept

I guess it was a rewrite to slut of the exec. There really are more of us sluts then most people realize, because many try to hide it.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 12 years ago
Great story!!

Brilliant story, just brilliant!!

AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago
Wow.

This story has amazing potential. I love the pure objectifying and the immediate degradation of a strong woman into a living doll.

Makes me wish there were some truth to this "project".

-A Willing Doll

NaughtyBunny85NaughtyBunny85over 12 years ago

"I've guiltily enjoyed your other stories, but this was rather frightening. Your desire to subjugate and degrade women more pronounced--"happy, contented dolls?"

There are grown women who dress up as dolls and refer to themselves as such, it's a fetish much like BDSM and "rape play" or in this case non-consent. If your going to read anything in the non-consent (let's be honest non-consent= rape) section of an erotica site your going to be reading about the subjugation and degrading of women and girls...please don't read anything from this section if it offends you in anyway.

AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago

I've guiltily enjoyed your other stories, but this was rather frightening. Your desire to subjugate and degrade women more pronounced--"happy, contented dolls?"

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