Gromet, this is a story that I developed during an IM with someone; I took the IM and created a story from the ideas generated. It has been a fascinating work for me. 

Riptieron says: How ‘bout if you were a paper doll?

L'gHa, Keeper of the Dak'tak says: Paperdoll?

Riptieron says: Sure. 

Riptieron says: I have a magical copier…
 

Paperdoll -A Story by Riptieron
Any references to people or me within this story are purely coincidental.
 
 

Campus
Riah Flamare jumped out of her truck as it rolled to a dusty stop. The air was whipping around her neck as she pulled her duffle bag from the bed; a feeling of hunger grew inside of her. 

She had not eaten yet today. She ran to the hall from the truck to drop her things in the lobby. The front stairway to the double door entrance was ten steps high, but today it seemed taller, longer. The dormitory had giant windows rising in columns between grey concrete walls that rose high into the air, ornamental leaves and gargoyles pepper the outside of the four story hall. A slate roof framed the cold appearance of her home away from home, it was just after 4:30, and the light was growing thin, as the cold grey sky gave way to darkness. 

Riah had just traveled forty miles to get to college. She was at her mother’s home this Sunday evening after spending time with her boyfriend, Andrew. She had just started dating him a couple of weeks ago, but already she had apprehensive feelings about his eagerness within their affair. He was very kind to her, but Riah almost felt like this kindness he showed her was, at least in Andrew’s mind, a form of payment to her. They never talked about sex and he had avoided putting any formal pressure on her to that effect, but in a woman’s eye, sometimes the unspoken words are the ones that scream the loudest. Sex was almost always on Riah’s mind. I’m a freshman in college, college. He never made any attempt to be intimate, or show extra affection, but he was almost always amiable, and could be near when there was a gig to go to…she wondered… was he gay? Did he not want people to know and so he picked me because of what I appear to be, a nice girl? Am I someone safe? No, he wouldn’t be like that; this is the mid-west, someone would know by now, his good friend John would have seen it, no. She thought of things he’d said and things that he had done, nothing pointed to sex, maybe he did want sex. Maybe that is what he is so worked up about. He can’t deal with it- it’s larger than it really is. It’s just sex- damn, it get over it! She grabbed the next bag and huffed it back toward the dorm, her jeans swooshing in the tall uncut grass. The lawn of the campus was uncut since fall. The flat yard had been over looked for the third time this year for mowing by the groundskeeper. Riah liked the desolate appearance of the campus, especially her building. It was the third to the last building on the back row of dormitories, secluded from all of the town’s traffic, it rested on the inside of the quad. 

Riah moved her truck out to the student lot and walked the long way back to her dorm, around the outer edge of the campus, bordering the cemetery. This part of the town was the oldest, and the cemetery had granite walls and wrought iron fencing atop that; old venerable oaks dating back to the 1800’s. Riah longed to live in such an enchanted world, and every chance she got, she would walk by this lonely street. On the other side of the cemetery were old Victorian style town houses, long and lean faced homes pressing together in the heart of the township. Riah had walked this street maybe thirty times last semester, just to look at the way that old things had been made. 

The corner house had a rental truck parked outside of it. The truck was being offloaded by two gentlemen in black coveralls. The men grunted and strained at an exceptionally large crate, moving t slowly down the ramp. The light to the corner house was on, and the home had a sign dangling from the eve of the gable: Riptieron Copying, it said. Riah thought that this would be a great place to do her printing, as long as she could get it cheap she thought. 

Back at the dorm she pulled her duffle into the elevator, and went to the third floor. As she opened her room door she noticed a note left by her roommate: gone to the cafeteria –Jenny. Riah dropped her things and fell on her bed. She was glad to be in at last out of the cold.

Remember Me

It had been four days since Riah had seen the small copy shop at the corner, but now it was open, and fliers were posted about the campus in random order, at every pole, bulletin board and car in the campus had at least two or three covering it. Riptieron’s would get attention for its grand opening.

Riah walked up to the front door, pushing it open. Chimes clanged on the door erratically as she gazed at the parlor floor, black and white checkered tiles ran out in all directions underneath the machines and furniture. This first room was very, very long. It was narrow, this look exaggerated by the printing machines and copiers that seemed to stand at attention along the walls of the dank hallway, light only by a row of suspended lamps, they could not have been more than sixty watts a piece. It was after 7:30, and the shop was deserted. The room was chilled; the only heater was at the far end of the hall, near the desk at the end, where a small man sat perched atop a stool to tall for the desk. Too far to see detail, she walked slowly past the copiers to see the man better. He wrote with a feather quelled pen, and wore a black hat, like a Santa’s hat, with no fur. Wire rimmed bifocals held a stern faced man, wrinkled, but alert, he peered at Riah as she came into his view. 

“What is thy bidding?” he asked soulfully, reaching to the edge of the desk, raising a fuzzy eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing, I am just here for a quick look, that’s all.” She said hurriedly.

“Looking,” his said in a low voice, “Looking is lovers’ lips lollygagging!” he started on with his writing, annoyed at her hindrance of his time.

Riah had never been put down by such an old character, and was fascinated at why this old fool had computerized cash registers, and modern copier equipment, but still wrote on with a fountain quelled pen and ink bottle. She gazed at the heavy oak desk, around which the cash register, and an old waste basket was. There was a broom leaned against the doorframe into the next room, the back room. As she circled to leave, she glanced into the room beyond, where several larger copiers were kept. They were bigger than anything she had ever seen before. Wheeling around Riah had a thought- 

“What are those machines back there for?” she asked.

“Those,” said the old man, without looking back, “are for privately commissioned jobs.”

“What do those machines do?” she prodded.

“If you don’t know,” his voice rose, “then I doubt you could meet the expense of services such as those.” He said, throwing a cheek at the room.

“I must tell you, the things one wants for, aren’t until the end of time the best retort to the questions that you seek. Now if you will please excuse me, I have to shut down this establishment” he said dignified. 

Riah turned once again as to leave then saw the bathroom to her right, and eyed it as she past. The old man was off his stool and started to sweep the hall, picking up the loose paper off the floor and closing the tops of the copiers. Riah briskly walked out of the shop.

Later back at the dormitory, Jenny and Riah were hard into their work. Jenny was an art student, she penciled a drawing. Riah typed on her computer, and was instant messaging with several people about her most recent communiqué with Andrew, it seemed as thought everyone online had more to do with the relationship than she did. One person suggested to make a life sized poster of her naked body and send it out to him, so he could be reminded of her while they are apart.

“Jenny,” Riah broke the silence, “do you think that I should give Andrew a life size Xerox of my naked self?” 

“Whoa!” she sat up from her drawing, “where did that just come from?” 

“Oh,” Riah giggled, “this guy on the internet told me that if I wanted Andrew to remember me while I am gone I should give him something to remember me by; like a token.”

“Oh,” Jenny said.

“I like the idea of copying myself nude. That is pretty exciting.” Riah said.

“Yeh? Well how are you going to do it? One breast at a time?” Jenny asked.

No, I saw this copier in that new copy shop, Riptieron’s, today; I think that it could do it just fine. It is massive; it must be for commercial posters or something because it’s huge. But I don’t think that I could afford the copies that it makes, the old man says that its too expensive if I don’t know what the machine is for…” Riah said

“Well do what we did to the graphics lab…sneak in after hours!” Jenny proudly said.

“No!” exclaimed Riah, “that is dangerous- you could get in trouble!”

“Oh, nonsense. This area doesn’t have the enough money to steal from, so there are no high tech alarms around here, this place is old school. Just hide out in the bathroom, then at when the old man is gone, do your thing and climb out a window. Nobody will ever know.” Jenny said. “If you want me to help I can distract the old man…”

Distracted 

The very next day, both Jenny and Riah walk into Riptieron’s Copy Shop. At 8:30 the shop was empty except for the old man. Riah makes several copies and then goes to the cash register and checks out. Behind her Jenny is waiting to talk to the old man. Riah turns to go but darts into the bathroom. Jenny explains that she doesn’t understand how to make the enlargement thingy work, waving her hands round in confusion. Jenny and the old man walk to the other side of the hall, and Riah peeps out of the bathroom, and darts into the backroom. Riah finds four big machines inside the room. She quickly darts to the corner and hides crouched between the wall and the machine; out of view from the front room. Riah took her black jacket and draped it over her head for good measure.

That part was easy Riah thought, but it’s not over. The shop was not closed. She heard Jenny talking to the old man about the weather, and then he rung her out. She took her copies and left, the chimes on the door clanged as they fell back on the closing door. The old man hummed as he swept the floor and then he set the register to tally the day’s receipts, and she heard the clicking clatter of the receipt role printer grinding out numbers.

Finally the old man was done with his clean-up. He came in the back room, and grabbed the trash can by the door, then turned out the lights, and pulled the door shut, dead bolting it locked from the outside. She heard him stirring a bit out side the door. She waited a good twenty minutes before she came out from behind the machine, and then she didn’t turn on the lights, but listened for signs of the old man outside the door. She crawled back to the corner in the darkness. Pulling out her cell phone she called Jenny. 

“Hello?” Jenny said.

“Hey, I am in- it worked!” Riah whispered. “Is the old man still out there?”

“Nope he cruised off in his car bout ten minutes ago.” Jenny said, “Well I am going back to the dorm, call if you need me.”

“Okeys” Riah said and hung up.

Feeling about the room by the light of the cell phone, Riah found the light switch. She did notice one thing that she had never thought of before now, this room has no windows. How would she leave? She looked at the door; it had no latch, just a keyhole.

She was trapped here till morning. Riah dialed Jenny again. 

“Jenny, I’m stuck here, this room has no exits, no windows! I am going to have to spend the night here! What if he finds me in the morning?” Riah said panic stricken.

“Just calm down this is not so bad, all you have to do is get out the way you got in, I’ll distract him in the morning, and you can run out as I do, I’ll call you in the morning when he gets there, so you’ll know when to hide.”

“Okeys, I’m going to make my copies now I’ll call when I am done.” Riah hung up.

Final Print

The door was shut but Riah would have the copies she had come for. She breathed deeply for a moment she took a long look at the room around her. Four machines, one was a regular copier machine; the second was large but not as large as the third. All three of these machines were normal looking white cast plastic. The last machine, off by itself to the far wall, was enormous. The front of the machine was almost three foot tall, and it had the girth of a queen sized bed. Rails on the side were made from mahogany. And the seams of the beast trimmed in gold. At the corners ornate carvings with symbols and feign language carved into the borders of the surrounding edges. This was not a regular device. It must have been one of the early European copiers, Riah said to herself. Atop of each corner, a golden post held a giant lid, or boxed canopy for the device, above the lower plate below. The lower glass plate was thick, and she could see a golden inner chamber thru the glass, but had trouble making any detail out in the darkness under the lid. The upper lid Riah guessed was used for backlit copies, like transparencies. Out to the side of the machine was a large tray for the deposition of the final copy. 

The other machines were more modern in style, but this last machine was large enough for her to get a copy of her self spread eagle with room to spare. The final copy would look as if she were floating in the middle of the paper. Like a fly caught on fly paper. Many things have interested Riah Flamare, but only the idea that she would be pinned up by her boyfriend miles away, as a crude pin up girl, a fantasy that he could roll up and take out to use as he wished drove her to do this act. With her boyfriend taking her body on paper, an idea that made her moist inside. Something about the loss of control, in that once she gave him this it was going to be seen by who ever he wished to show it to. After all, striping naked and jumping onto a cold plate of glass was a bit kinky by itself. So Riah thought. Lots of things ran thru her mind now, would he finally see her as a sexual being, with real needs? Maybe the poster would open up the possibility of a sexual relationship.

Riah looked around for the machine’s controls. Up on the front of the giant was a sliding panel flat on top off the deck. Sliding it open Riah found three buttons. One was a switch. That must be the power button she guessed and flicked it. She heard a fan turn on and a humming sound of power running to the inside of the device. The two remaining buttons had less implication as to there function. One was blue, and one was green. Riah checked all the other surfaces for more panels where buttons might be hiding. Not one other button or control. She had never seen a copier without an entire keypad of button to operate it by.

Not to worry, what could making a few extra copies hurt? She had all night to experiment with the device. She took off her coat and boots, then her shirt and jeans. This revealed her firm breasts, and the curve of her waist. She was stunning and very proportioned. She took off the black lace bra, and dropped her panties all beside the machine. Grabbing onto one of the poles she climbed up atop the machine and deftly slipped beneath the cover of the upper tray, which was about two feet above the lower glass. Scooting over and evenly spacing herself on the glass she position her large breasts and lifted her head just a bit to see the panel with the two buttons. She pressed the first ‘green’ button. Nothing happened she listened for any sign of life within the machine, but there was nothing. She leaned over again this time pressing the ‘blue’ button. This button started something, she heard a noise underneath her body and she tingled with anticipation of the arm to the scanner bar swinging to life. But the arm did not light up right away. 

She opened her eyes, then suddenly, the cover to the upper lid moved, and dropped an outer cover, this cover surrounded the inner glass tray above her. Startled, but now she relaxed as the cover smoothly lowered into place around her she said to herself that now the copier will go, have warmed up and done all it pre-stuff. She held her breath and waited. Nothing happened; she exhaled, and looked at the device within. It was starting to glow at the leading edge of the lower arm. She felt better to know that this machine was running, it just took some time. Preparing again, she steadied herself. 

What she did not know was that the upper lid was ever so slowly dropping down to her level, it was nearly touching her, with about a foot of space between her and the lower glass, Riah felt the glass touch her back. She lifted her head and bumped it hard on the glass above. She winced at the pain, and tried to move but the glass was not sliding against her skin, she was trapped, the glass was hard, and heavy. It pressed down with a relentless force. Riah screamed “help! Help me!”, but none came, she was in a back room, and no one around but her. The light was now glowing white hot, and it passed underneath of her quickly, she felt woozy and the arm above her shown behind her back, running opposite the one below. She wiggled frantically but was losing her battle, she was held fast by the glass, still pressing into her back. The lights stung her skin, and she began to feel different. With each pass the light took something from her, and she felt the glass move just a little bit more. As the lights quickly ran the length of her body, she desperately tried to escape. In the light, Riah’s body was stiffening. The new feeling came from within her. The new feeling turned her on. She had never been gripped by an unseen force such as this before; the machine was doing to her what it wanted. Riah found it harder and harder to move as the lights passed, and she loved the idea that this was something she had no power over. Her desire to be over-powered was being fulfilled, and excited, the machine churned on; running its course.

The lights had pass many times now, and she had long ago forgotten about escaping before the machine had gotten its way with her. Riah had pushed the buttons and now she had fallen victim to her own plans, she wondered if this would release her after it had got done scanning her. Was this thing really dangerous? Could my life be in danger? All Riah could do was wait. But she felt good. She wanted more stimulation thought.

Riah could not see what was happening to her, she was in the machine, not able to move. The machine was flattening her body, not smashing, but flattening it a little bit at a time. The hi-energy emitted by the light, was compressing her molecules in a very selective way. The glass, charged from within attracts Riah’s molecules to align in the same way that light carries them. The light returns thru the glass, Riah left is on the glass. Every pass of the light telescopically compresses her just a little more. Riah tingled from the rays passing into her body, realigning her figure to the glass below. She felt like she was falling, tumbling downward as if on an elevator. Tingling her senses, a feeling of vertigo penetrated her thoughts as she began to feel heavier. The heaviness held her helpless to act, as the machine continued to work on her form, she had one thought that began to have more presence in side of her; this was the last thing that would ever happen to her and she was powerless to stop it. Riah loved the feeling of it. Her body was being stimulated, and she had come to enjoy being helpless. Riah could not think much further than that, her mind was slowing down. Thoughts passed very slowly and the few thoughts she had were of the feeling, how she was being somehow changed, violated.

From Riah’s viewpoint, nothing is different except the fact that she cannot move. She feels a slight feeling of compression as it is about halfway done now. Riah now knows that this machine is not just a copier, and that it is doing something to her, the glass is on top of her wrists, pressing her forearms, she should be dead, but she feels fine, just a little flatter- like she is being drained of something. The light continues to pass, back and forth. Now the glass is on her fingertips, “This is it” she thinks. I have become a poster girl, and I will be forever flat. The glass keeps moving down. Riah’s hands tingled, and her head was becoming solid, everything inside her body was gaining weight. She slowly thought the last thought, I am being flattened and I am helpless to stop it, I am naked. Thoughts stopped, all the energy in her was gone, and she was now frozen into a perpetual state of existence. The light passed back and forth, as her body reached a two-dimensional form. Finally, after the glass reaches the bottom plate, the lights stop running. Riah has been flattened across the glass, pressed between the two plates easily. She had no ability to move, no ability to speak, but the flat feeling in her body made her excited and horny. It was as if she were turned on and not able to reach any other feelings, she had but one feeling one thought, and no other thoughts, Riah lived on in the moment of her capture, excited by the realization she was becoming flat.

Riah’s body lay on the glass, and suddenly the end of the tray opened up and suction was applied to her, she slid quickly over the edge into the paper thin slit at the far side of the tray. Her body rolled over a drum, and she was heated. Riah moved fast into another chamber as more heated drums made contact with her naked image. Riah’s form stuck to the heated drum and was pulled down and met with another drum carrying a large sheet of paper. The two met between the drums and became one piece of paper. The hot sheet slid out of the machine, and fell into a tray to cool. Her naked voluptuous body lay plainly out, exposed, open and helpless. Her form was held in the paper, and the image is captured by vibrant and rich colors, lifelike. The paper held Riah’s body captive, and she was gazing off out at a distant point, mouth opened slightly, trapped on a flat surface, the portrait of her resembled a specimen slide, the weight of her body against an invisible wall. Riah Flamare had become a Paperdoll.

The Morning Paper

The paper Riah had been imprinted on slowly cooled down, and Riah lay in the bin for the next three hours. Then before the morning light, an old man came to open the front door. He ambled up the walk from the direction of the cemetery, and slowly patted around in his grey woolen sweater-coat for the key. He turned the deadbolt lock for turn and then tried to push the rickety old door to. The door swung open, as chimes rang out from corner to corner in the crisp cold morning air, until it reached Jenny, who was napping in her parked car, across the street. She looked up to see the old man straining to lean over, as he picked up the paper on the front mat. He closed the door, Jenny was startled by the abrupt end to her nap, and she grabbed the loose papers, and jumped out of the car, running at the door as fast a she could. The old man had just reached the far side of the store when Jenny reached the rickety door, with the closed sign on it. She banged on the door, and saw the old man switching the machines on, on the far side of the hall. Jenny banged on the glass, and tried to get the old man’s attention. “Open up…”she cried, “I need your help!” The old man looked back up the hall, disgusted by the early appearance of anyone before business hours.

“Go away, we’re closed!” he said waving his hand at her. He had no intension of breaking his traditional routine to alter the store’s hours.

I need your help! Please! Jenny cried, putting on her best act of desperation. The old man started towards the door. Jenny smiled and delightedly jumped up and down. The old man looked at his watch and told her thru the glass, “We don’t open for another hour.”

“But I need to finish this project before my next class…” Jenny pouted.

The old man shook his head and looked at the floor, while Jenny held her breath. He reluctantly opened the door. Jenny said “Thank you so much I really appreciate this, really I do!”

The old man was still shaking his head as she entered. Looking around nervously into the street for other early bird he quickly shut the door behind her locking it. She took a copier near the door and started her work. The old man moved slowly walked down the hall. He opened the desk and started the computer up. Jenny was sweating underneath her calm exterior. Open the damn door! She said to herself. The old man was locked into his methodical routine. Finally after faking the copies for ten minutes he reached the back door. She heard the latch snap, and he pushed the door open by just a crack, when she cried out, “no, no!” and started to through a fit. 

The old man wheeled back around, and came her way, muttering under his breath of something about ‘do-gooders delight, crying out all night’. Jenny was seriously afraid of this loony old man, who was he anyway? She wondered if he was the owner, he was the only one she had ever seen in the shop. She pointed at the machine that she had intentionally jammed, while looking for Riah over the old man’s shoulder. He finally reached the machine and rummaged thru it to free the paper jam. She did not see Riah, but she might have missed her as she slipped into the bathroom. Jenny continued to make her copies. Jenny thought that if she could distract him one more time at the counter, then she would know for sure if Riah was out. Jenny started making all kinds of noises praising the old man for his kindness as she approached the cash register, but she saw no sign of Riah as she approached the old man sitting behind the heavy oak desk. Riah must have gone into the bathroom, she must have, Jenny thought. She again made all the noise she could and then left the old man, wondering what had happened to the deranged young college student so early in the morning. 

The old man continued to mutter as she left. The only thing that he knew was that Jenny was acting strange. He turned to the backroom, and pushed the cracked door open, and walked in, flicking the lights on as he went. What he saw on the floor made his heart miss more than one beat. He took a step back and grabbed his chin. The clothes, piled on the floor, and the lid down on the machine could mean only one thing, someone had used the machine last night. He walked around the machine, and saw poor Riah trapped on paper. The paper held a perfectly vivid image of her nude body, pressed on the glass. He whistled at the sight of Riah’s naked body then turned to the machine, and circled to the back of it. The old man opened a door on the back of the machine then pulled out a long container of blue glowing material, encased inside of a glass box. The blue glowing material radiated warmth from inside itself. He held it up to the light, and examined it carefully.

 Muttering he said, “There should be just enough time left for you my dear…” and he closed the back door to the machine. He tapped the glass box and blew on it several times, to remove the dust on the surface. He placed it on the ground and went to the front desk. Opening the biggest drawer on the desk he pulled out his tall cap, and a gnarled looking twig. He put on his cap, took the gnarled twig and held it out. He swished it as a conductor would have, and then returned to the room beyond. He followed the line of the glowing box with the branch, and color seemed to spout from the twig as he did so. The old man’s gaze was all intent on the box and its contents. Sternly he glared into the glow, even as the twig seemed to spill sparks out over the floor, in a rain of colors. The whole room was dashed by the lightshow coming from the twig, the magical branch, the powerful wand. The old man began to growl in a low voice, chanting a foreign dialect, straightening the angle of his arm to the box, strengthening the intensity of sparks, and ignoring the parade of colorful vapors whizzing around his gnarled twig. 

“That ought to do it!” he shouted determinedly, finally finished with his spell.

“You will have a life after all, my pet…” the old man said. He set the box on the floor next to her and walked back to the front, turning the lights off as he did. He left Riah laying in the bin, in the dark.
 
 

Next Chapter: Flat Denial
 
 

24.02.04