The Doll

In her quiet home at the foot of a hill, the last house on the block, Sam waited in a nervous excitement. She sat on her lumpy old couch and bounced her leg until she couldn't take it, and then she paced the scored wooden floor. She tried cleaning every room for the fourth time, baking yet another batch of cookies, and cleaning every tool and implement carefully laid out on her living room's coffee table. If she could have, Sam would have taken apart and rebuilt her house in the anxiety of waiting.

Naturally, this meant that when the doorbell did finally ring, Sam let out a cry that echoed around the living room. With flushed cheeks, she opened the door to the sight of a dour man in shorts thrusting a clipboard in her face. Sam jotted down all the necessary information, signed her name three times, and got out of the way to let the delivery man roll in a box taller and wider than either of them. He tipped his cap once to her and was gone, leaving Sam alone once more; but not for long, she hoped.

Sam tore open the plain brown box and dug through the packing peanuts with fervor. Inside was a large metal case, cold to the touch. It was too heavy for Sam to lug it out herself, so she set about cutting the box away around it and sliding the case to the middle of the room. The lid opened with a hiss after lifting a half-dozen latches on both sides. Fog spilled out in waves and lights inside clicked on. Inside the box was a doll shaped like a person.

The doll was slightly taller than Sam and chubbier as well with wider hips and a larger bosom. Where Sam's hair was a long mass of tangled curls, its was short and straight. She had known in the order that it would come with genitalia, but seeing the small penis between the doll's legs still made Sam turn her head away in embarrassment. After a moment she regained her composure and carefully tapped the doll. Nothing happened. For all that it mattered, the doll showed no signs of life.

"Oh, right, duh!" Sam cried, slapping her forehead. She scrambled up from the floor and fumbled around the coffee table until she came up with a long rod. It was made of old, stained wood and inlaid with small carvings of those who came before her. Sam dropped back in front of the doll and waved the wand. Her hair stood on end and the air stank of ozone. A moment passed and then the doll's hair stood as well and it began to stir.

Sam put her rod to the side and knelt before the stirring doll. She realized she wasn't sure what to do. Should she have grabbed some of the cookies? But there wasn't time for that now. The doll opened its gray eyes and looked up. It tilted its head and spoke, "Is this one alive again?"

"Yeah, you're alive," Sam said and gave it a thumbs-up. "I'm at least pretty sure this isn't the afterlife."

She laughed, but the doll didn't. Sam sighed and shook her head. "Anyway, can you stand? Are you able to get out of the box?"

The doll nodded. It lifted itself slowly, carefully, out of its temporary tomb. The doll wiped ice from its body. Sam grabbed a blanket she had prepared and wrapped it around the doll.

It looked at her with glassy eyes. "Thank you," it said.

"No problem," Sam said. She looked over the doll's body now that it stood before her. It had no marks on it, which was fine with her. Sam touched the doll and it shivered. Its skin was soft. "What do I call you?" she asked.

"Whatever you wish," it said. "This one has no name."

Sam tapped her chin. "Didn't you have one before you were, uh, made like this?"

The doll shook its head. "No, this one does not have memories of that time."

"Right," Sam said. "Well I don't want you to have no name at all. That'd be...weird. How about Melanie?" She scratched the back of her head. "It's the name of my ex so I guess that's creepy, but..."

"Thank you for the name," the doll now named Melanie said. "This one is grateful."

"Good," Sam said. She straightened her back and looked closely over Melanie. "Do you wish to know why you are here, Melanie?" she asked.

Melanie stared. "It is not this one's purpose to know," it said. "Only obey."

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. "Right," she said, "but I think it would be kind of strange if I didn't tell you. Is that okay?"

"Are you asking for this one's permission?" Melanie asked. It squinted and tilted its head. "This one does not believe it has the ability to give permission."

"Okay, I get that, just...never mind." Sam rubbed her cheek. "Work with me, alright?"

Melanie nodded. "This one will obey."

Sam picked up the rod at her feet and placed it neatly along with the other implements on the table. Some were simple tools meant to test all sorts of vital signs. Others were more mysterious, glowing faintly and pulsing with a magic only Sam could hear. She turned back to Melanie and pointed at the table.

"These are for you," Sam said. "I'm...not the best witch. But I have to be, y'know?" She cracked her knuckles as she spoke. "It's, like, the big thing my family is good at. So if I'm not, I don't...I just have to be. So I need someone to test on. If I can just figure out what I'm doing wrong, if I can visualize it, I can nail the next exams." She turned to Melanie. "Do you understand?"

"This one was made this way to serve witches," it said. "There is no task this one will not carry out. You own this one."

"I know, I know," Sam groaned. "It just feels a little...gross. I mean, I bought you. Isn't that weird?"

Melanie shook its head. "This one volunteered to be made a doll. It has no other purpose."

Sam looked the doll in its face and nodded. "Right. Okay. I can do this." Her stomach rumbled with a reminder that she hadn't eaten the entire day and Sam growled. Some time to be hungry.

"Come with me," she said and led Melanie to the kitchen. The results of her feverish preparation lay about on cheap baking sheets. Sam took a cookie and ate it in one bite. It felt like a rock going down, but it was better than nothing. "Do you want one?" she asked, holding up a snickerdoodle.

Melanie bowed and took the offered cookie. "This one thanks you," it said.

Sam smiled and ate another. "Do you like cookies? I mean, I know you don't need to eat human food, but it tastes good right?"

"This one does not need to eat more than one nutrition packet per month," Melanie said. "This one does, however, enjoy the treats made for it by its owner."

"Well good, because I like making them," Sam said. She noticed crumbs dribbling out of Melanie's mouth, some of which rolled down its body and rested on its penis. Without thinking, Sam reached over and brushed them off. Then, realizing what she had done, stepped back. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean it!"

The doll tilted its head. "Why is this one's owner sorry? As a doll, this one's body is open to its owner. There is nothing its owner needs to apologize for."

"Oh, yeah, right." Sam paused. "Can I touch it again?"

"You may do as you wish," the doll said.

Sam's cheeks flushed and she bit her lip. She reached one trembling hand to the doll's belly and touched it. Its skin was soft and cool. Sam gulped and lowered her hand to its crotch. She carefully cupped its balls and rubbed her thumb over the short length of her doll's cock.

"It's so...soft," Sam said.

"Is that bad?" Melanie asked.

Sam shook her head. It was so smooth and squished between her fingers. Her breath caught when a bead of precum appeared at the end and she wiped it off. It felt somehow precious in her hand. A small gift to her, beautiful in its own way. "I love it," Sam whispered. "It feels perfect."

Melanie bowed. "Thank you, this one hopes to serve you well."

Sam nodded and slipped her hand away. She cocked her head towards the living room. "Alright, come on. I want to try a few things today before I get you settled in."

The doll waited beside its carrier once more while Sam got to her table of toys and stared at each other in turn. Some would have more interesting effects than others, but those could take time to clean up. At last, she snatched a simple green crystal that clipped neatly onto her rod.

Sam turned back towards the doll and held up her witch's rod. It hummed with energy. "I will begin with a simple transformation exercise," she told it. "By doing the spell this way, I should be able to reshape you with little harm."

"Do you not wish to cause pain?" Melanie asked.

"Not exactly," Sam said and readied the rod. "I have to learn how to do these spells right, so they may be a little uncomfortable at first. Now, let's break you down so I can build you back up again."

Sam waved the rod and the green crystal flashed. An acrid smell filled the room and Sam's stomach quivered. Still, she fought it and instead kept an eye on the doll. "The spell should start to take effect," Sam said. "Please describe how you feel as it happens."

Melanie nodded. It burped and blushed in surprise. "This one's stomach does not feel good," it said.

"Right, it's starting," Sam said. "So, uh, please go on."

Another burp and this time the doll clutched its stomach. "This one's insides are hurting. It does not feel well."

"That's how it's supposed to feel. Sorry about that."

Melanie cried out and fell to its knees. It began coughing and hacking. "This one feels like it is going to vomit," it said.

Sam knelt next to the doll. "Trust me, don't fight it," she said. "You have to let it happen." She hesitated, then reached out to rub the doll's back.

Whether the doll obeyed or not, it happened anyway. Melanie groaned and threw up on the floor on all fours like a dog. This time, though, rather than the normal contents of its stomach what came out was a glowing green slime. That same slime began to appear at the edges of the doll as well. Slime dripped from the corners of its eyes and poured from its ears. Its fingers began to dissolve together into a green paste, and then that same effect moved up its wrists and arms.

As she watched, Sam could feel her ears burn. She knew she was supposed to be studying the spell's effects, but something about a beautiful doll dissolving before her very eyes was equal parts appealing and embarrassing. She reached over and stroked its lovely little cock again. A cry of joy escaped her throat as it hardened and began to spit out slime into the growing puddle at the doll's feet. Sam didn't stop pumping, and soon the doll's cock itself dissolved into warm paste that Sam wiped from her hands.

"There you go," Sam cooed. "It's almost done, when you wake back up again you'll be just fine. I promise you."

The doll looked up at its owner and smiled. It reached a hand out to her, but before it could reach her cheek its entire body collapsed into the puddle of goo. And just like that, Sam had turned an entire doll into a glowing green ball of slime on her floor. Somehow it made her less happy than she had hoped.

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was the first spell of hers that had gone completely correct in months, but it felt somehow empty. Shouldn't she be happy? Her family would be, certainly. And yet...

While the pile of doll on the floor was cooling to ready for the next spell to change it back, Sam rose and headed for her bedroom. There, she picked out some of her own clothes: a soft knit sweater, extra large jogging sweats, panties, and a bra. She gathered the things in her arms and ran back to the living room where she placed them beside Melanie's puddle.

The rod was still warm in Sam's hands, but it functioned well enough. She rubbed her palm on the green crystal and swung the rod again. This time, thick green smoke rose from the pile of goo. It bubbled and stirred while the clothes rose into the air. Inch by inch the slime began to reform. First the doll's feet appeared, then the legs, and then the thighs. The magic crept up the doll while Sam held her breath and strained. Sweat built on her forehead.

The goo reformed into the clothes floating around it. Arms emerged from the sweater sleeves and breasts fit into the waiting bra. At last, Melanie's head appeared through the hole in the top of the sweater and it was done.

Adjusting to the reformation, the doll's eyes blinked and looked down at its new clothes. "What are these?" it asked.

"They're my clothes," Sam said and pressed her hands together. "Do you like them? I thought you might want something nice to wear after that."

"Oh." The doll hugged its arms around itself. "Thank you."

"Of course."

The doll paused. "Did this one change from the spell?"

"Not exactly," Sam said. "You're the same as before, more or less, but your body is a little more pliant. It makes it easier to do future spells on you."

"This one understands," the doll said and smiled. "You may begin the next spell as soon as you wish."

Sam looked away and then back to Melanie. "I, uh, no that's fine. I don't think we need to do more today."

"This one doesn't understand." The doll bit its lip. "Was there a problem with this one's performance?"

Sam rubbed her arm. "No, no, that's not it." Her voice was soft. "I don't know, it felt kind of...bad doing that to you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to see you fall apart again," Sam said. "Is that wrong?"

It took so long to answer that Sam was worried she had actually upset it. Finally, it answered, "Is my owner regretting purchasing this one?"

"What?" Sam asked. "No, that's not it, I just..." She huffed. " I don't know."

"This one is made to serve," the doll said with a louder voice. "It has no function other than that. Its mind was destroyed and rebuilt. It has no ability to exist otherwise." Its eyes flashed. "This one's creators would punish it severely if it did not serve you well."

"Okay, okay, I get your point." Sam sat on the couch and put her head in her hands. "I felt like I could do this until you turned into a puddle. I...I don't want to do that. I know I'm supposed to, but it still feels wrong." She looked at the floor beneath her feet. "What am I if I can't perform a simple transformation spell on the world's most willing participant?"

The doll sat next to Sam. "You are kind," it said.

Sam snorted. "Thanks."

"It was not a compliment," Melanie continued. "This one was taught the rules of witches. They say sentimental kindness holds back progress and slows ideas."

"And you think that's me."

"You gave this one your clothes."

"Right." Sam laughed and rubbed her head. "You must think I'm pretty stupid."

Melanie bowed its head. "This one would never think that of its owner. Perhaps simply misguided."

That made Sam laugh so loud the doll recoiled. She looked up at it with wet eyes. "For a doll, you're very opinionated."

"Yes," the doll admitted. "This one was remade, but it understands that it did not make the choice to begin that process lightly." The doll rubbed its cheek. "This one once bore many scars and painful memories. Were it not for the need for dolls, this one would have suffered. Without a purpose, this one suffers still."

"So you'd rather me hurt you than be kind to you?" Sam asked.

"This one would rather you find a use for it," it replied. "This one believes that its owner has perhaps forgotten kindness is not always a soft blanket or a warm bed." Its hands clenched. "Kindness is just as often being given a purpose. Kindness to this one is feeling wanted and used to please."

Sam rubbed the corners of her eyes. "I see." She stood and looked at Melanie. "What if I find you another purpose? Another way to serve me?"

"That would be acceptable to this one," Melanie said.

"Good." Sam leaned closer. "I can find other targets for my experiments. What I cannot find so easily is a beautiful companion to have my fun with." She grinned and bared her sharp teeth. "You want to be called a doll? Fine. You will be my doll. I will dress you up, I will play with you, I will dream up scenarios for us to act out, and I will keep you by my side. You will serve my dreams of romance as much as my perversions. Is that enough of a purpose for you?"

The doll grinned. "More than enough for this one."

Sam grabbed Melanie and raised it to its feet. "Alright," she said, "let's get you to the bedroom. I think I might just know what to do with you."

The doll's eyes sparkled and Sam grinned. She led her doll back to her bedroom. It was a small space and quite plain; largely consisting of a wide bed and a nightstand. Turning her master bedroom into a study had left her with few options for sleeping. Still, the bed was adorned with many pillows and thick blankets so it was suitable as any place to explore her doll.

"There you go, climb up and make yourself comfortable," Sam said as she helped Melanie onto the bed. It sat with its legs crossed and watched her.

Now it was Sam's turn to be on display. She wiped her hands on her pants and her forehead with the back of her arm. There was an inherent silliness to being embarrassed in front of a doll who didn't know shame existed. Yet still, here she was.

"So, uh, I kind of am...well okay, I'm not like you, but sort of am," Sam said. The doll did not answer but simply blinked in reply. "I have a, y'know, a thing there. And I know I don't always look the most girl but I was hoping that maybe we could do stuff with our shared shapes."

Sam's face was burning now. "All the girls I've ever been with were the, well, regular type. They wanted a guy, but that's not...who I am. So I hope I don't have to be one with you."

Melanie nodded. "This one understands. Your doll will serve your every need, whatever your gender identity or other personal attributes."

"Good. Yeah. Okay." Sam gulped and then closed her eyes. With trembling hands she slid her shirt off and revealed what she knew was a chest that was too damn skinny, too flat and muscled. Her hands fumbled at the button holding her jeans together until she just yanked them down along with her underwear.

She opened her eyes and peeked out. Melanie sat as still as ever, which was a relief. Sam looked down and sighed. There between her legs lay her long and slender penis, the most embarrassing tool in her possession. It wasn't fair, really. Melanie had one, sure, but it was small, soft, and squishy. It was cute in a way hers wasn't. Her's was something that made girls and boys alike treat her differently, like all her talk about being a girl was an annoying distraction.

"How do I look?" Sam's voice came out as a squeak.

"This one's owner always looks perfect," Melanie responded.

Sam rubbed her forehead. "Thank you. I know you think that. But just...I want to feel like a girl. With you. It's important to me."

Her doll nodded. "This one understands."

Sam groaned and sat on the bed next to Melanie. It creaked from their combined weight. She opened her arms and the doll crawled into them. Her arms closed around the doll and held it close.

"You're warm," Sam said. She pressed her face into its hair.

"Does this one's owner like that?" the doll asked.

"Yeah. It's nice. You smell good."

"This one thanks you."

"Mmm yeah, no problem," Sam said in a dreamy voice. "Do you like how I smell?"

The doll blinked. "This one never considered its owner's smell."

"Well, can you consider it now?"

A pause. "This one thinks you smell nice."

"Good." Sam bit her lip. "Can you...touch me?"

"Where?" the doll asked.

"I don't know. Everywhere? At least my chest and...down there."

Melanie nodded. It kept its head laying on her shoulder while reaching a delicate hand to Sam's chest. Its fingers grasped the small buds still growing there. They were sensitive and Sam squealed from even the lightest touch. The doll hesitated, but seeing its owner was alright began to grope and squeeze the eager breasts and pinched its owner's nipples.

Sam tried to keep a level of composure, but failed spectacularly. Her fingers clawed at the doll's back. She pressed her head into her doll's hair and tried to not think about how pathetic her moans were as the doll's fingers danced and played across her chest. Her nipples hardened into sensitive dots on her chest and she cried out when the doll lowered its mouth to suckle them.