© Copyright 2010 - SFT - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; M/f; doll; stuck; costume; play; sex; cons/nc; X
This story is covered by the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/3.0/ )
I awoke with a start.
I tried to focus my eyes, but there wasn't anything to focus on. I was surrounded by bright white.
After a moment, the surrounding luminance began to fade softly into details, as my eyes became accustomed to the brightness. I resolved out white walls, a greyish carpet, and a ceiling made of light. No obvious exits.
I was sitting on the floor, back against the corner, in an altogether unfamiliar place.
What was I doing here?
The last thing I remembered was falling asleep on her couch.
I stood, and checked my pockets. They'd been emptied. No cellular, no wallet. No way to make contact with the outside world.
As my eyes continued to adjust, a figure began to form in the corner of the room. She was wearing a bright white shirt and navy bloomers, so my eyes had avoided her at first, while they tried to determine where I was.
She appeared to be a doll, sitting quietly in the opposite corner.
I quietly walked over to the doll, knelt down, and gave her a look over.
She seemed to have been placed to mirror my original location. Her legs extended straight along the carpet, towards the center of the room, and her hands lay relaxed to her sides, palms up but fingers slightly curled. Her head was tilted down slightly, as if she were sleeping.
I turned my head to glance around the room, now that my eyes had adjusted, and noticed a bed in one other corner, just large enough for two people. The rest of the room was bare. Not even any suggestions of a door.
I stood, and began feeling around the walls, walking slowly, searching for any details my eyes might have missed. My fingers traced completely around the room, over each corner, and finished their circuit back at the doll.
I found nothing.
I turned to face the center of the room, and sighed.
Then a loud tap echoed from behind me.
I swivelled around, to find the doll's eyes looking straight at me, her head apparently making the tap upon colliding with the corner of the room.
"Hello?" I attempted.
She appeared to try to answer, her head moving ever so slightly as if to punctuate a tone, but no noise left her plastic, doll head.
Her hands immediately went to her doll mouth, frantically feeling around, trying to shift it away here or there, but ultimately failing.
Then she looked at her hands. Her delicate, shapely doll hands were covered with some sort of cloth, giving them a matte appearance. This same material covered the rest of her arms, disappeared behind her t-shirt, and only reappeared at her neck and on her legs as they exited her bloomers.
She immediately got up, and began running her hands over herself, as if searching for something. She ran her hands across her stomach, up her chest, around and down her back, down her legs, and even in and around her bloomers.
But all she could find across her doll skin was smoothness.
Her hands moved to her neck, just below her chin, and motioned upwards, as if she were trying to pull her own head off. Her hands went around the bottom, feeling around for something, but ultimately finding nothing.
Then her eyes turned to me, her hands grabbed my shirt, and my feet lifted off the ground.
"W..wait!" I cried out.
Her head tilted to the right slightly, but her eyes kept their hard stare. She didn't seem to be straining at all.
"I didn't do this!" I pleaded. I wasn't quite sure what I hadn't done, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
Her head returned to its normal position, but I remained floating. She was surprisingly strong for someone only around five foot five.
I suppose I could've kicked her, or otherwise fought my way off, but something told me I couldn't hurt her, even if I wanted to.
"J..just let me down, okay? Let's talk this out," I said.
She paused for a moment, then returned me to the ground.
I backed away a bit, just out of reach, for safety's sake.
"Okay. Okay," I said, pausing slightly. "I think we're in the same situation, you and I."
She placed her hands to her hips, and leaned slightly to the right. After a moment, she pointed at me, then to herself.
"Right, right, I'm a human and you're a doll, not the same at all."
She gave me an odd look, or at least the most she could manage having a fixed plastic face. At best, it was more like she stared a bit to the right of me.
"Uh, so you're not a doll?" I guessed.
She placed the palm of her hand against her forehead, and lowered her head.
"Do you mind if I have a look, then? Maybe I can help you out of that costume," I attempted.
She paused for a moment, then nodded, and walked up to me.
I began to circle around her, eyeing her up and down, kneeling at times to get a better look. Her head followed me around as best it could, as her eyes were clearly incapable of turning.
It certainly didn't look like a costume, at least not one I'd ever encountered before. She seemed to think it was, though, and who was I to argue.
To the eye, her body seemed to resemble that of a store-bought child's doll, the type made of cloth but with a hard plastic head. The only difference was in the styling and level of detail. The ones for children had only a very basic, childish body shape, but hers was undeniably feminine, with shapely breasts and rounded buttocks. Her hands had individual, fully formed fingers, and each limb had a distinct joint and was of appropriate thickness and length. Her face was hard plastic, but styled as an anime character rather than a western doll, with large, inviting eyes, a small, almost nonexistent nose, and a small, open smile.
Unfortunately, I could not find a single seam, zipper, or edge looking her over this way.
"Do you mind if I use my hands?" I asked.
She nodded again.
I took this as consent, and placed my hands against her large, plastic head, running my fingers around it, searching for a catch.
I started behind her head, my hands gently brushing her hair while my fingers slid along her plastic scalp. My hands met at her face, having found nothing.
She just stared at me as I did so, remaining mostly still, though occasionally moving her fingers about as if bored.
I then placed my fingers at the interface between her cloth neck and her plastic head, starting from the front, and sliding my fingers around the circle to the back. Again, nothing.
I stood back.
"I don't think there's any obvious way out," I said, "At least not one you couldn't have seen or felt yourself."
Her shoulders sank, and she looked down, turning away.
I decided to have another look around the room. Perhaps there was something here I could use to help her out.
The only thing in the room was the bed, though, so I walked up to it and began to look around it.
It was a typical, soft bed, with a thin, white blanket on top. Removing the blanket revealed a pair of pillows.
Underneath the pillows, though, were a couple of odd objects. A pair of shears, a roll of thread, and a sewing needle.
"Hey," I called out.
She turned back to me, head still slightly tilted down, but looking roughly in my direction.
I grabbed the shears and walked over to her, holding them up for her to see.
"We can cut you out," I said.
She raised her head slightly, and paused, as if thinking. After a moment, she looked up, and nodded slowly. She then began to search around her left wrist with the fingers of her right hand, pinching and prodding until she managed to produce a wrinkle large enough for me to clip.
I extended the shears around the wrinkle, and paused.
"Ready?" I asked.
She nodded, and I closed.
She pulled her arm back almost immediately, cradling it as if she had been hurt, gripping her wrist firmly with her hand.
"A..are you okay?" I asked.
She backed up slightly, and slightly moved her hand, allowing herself to see, but not me. She then gripped her wrist again, and crumpled to her knees.
"Did I cut you? Is there bleeding?" I asked. I looked at the shears, but the blades were clean. Still, I tossed them away, towards the bed, so they wouldn't traumatise her any more than they already had.
She started shaking her head, left and right, left and right. She then stopped, shook her arms in one downward motion, and stared at her wrist again.
"What happened?" I asked, stepping in closer.
She looked up at me with those large eyes, just staring. She began to shake slightly.
I knelt next to her, and held her by the shoulders, steadying her.
"Okay, calm down, just let me see what happened."
She straightened up a bit, but kept a slight shiver. Her hand slowly withdrew from her opposite wrist, revealing the cut I had made.
There was no blood, no stain, but nor was there the sight of human skin inside. The only thing visible was a white fluff, poking out of the wound.
"But...you're not a doll, right?" I said. I really shouldn't have.
She shook her head. And again, and again. As if she were trying to convince herself more than me. She began pushing in the white fluff, slowly, a shiver going through her with every push.
"Okay, look, we can fix this," I said, "there's a spool of thread and a needle on the bed..."
She immediately pushed me away and darted for the bed, grabbed the needle and thread, and began fixing herself. She started by threading the needle, then tying a quick knot in the thread, pulling it taut, and then threading through her cloth skin, across the cut, cringing slightly with every push and pull.
"You... can feel that?" I asked.
She nodded, and continued.
I decided to just sit and wait, watching her slowly progress along the cut I had made. Once she had finished, she tied the thread off, and snipped the excess with the shears.
I stood, and walked over to her, staring at her damaged area as I approached. The thread wasn't a good match for her cloth skin, and the stitching was immediately obvious.
But at least she wasn't torn any more.
She just sat there, staring at her wrist, for the longest time.
After a while, I felt like I needed to say something.
"Are you alright?" I finally asked.
This seemed to snap her out of her trance, and she looked up at me. Her shoulders shifted, and she sort of just stared, like she was expecting something to happen.
Then she raised her hands, and began touching the tips of her fingers along the bottom of her eyes, searching for something that wasn't there.
She couldn't cry. She wasn't capable of such an action.
She shivered again, and lowered her hands. Her right hand began to wander around the bed, outside her field of vision, until they found the shears she had left there. The shears, in turn, were immediately flung into the wall, where they broke noisily into two separate blades and clattered onto the ground.
She settled for pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes, and pressing her elbows into her knees, hiding her face from me.
That was as close to crying as she could get.
I sat down on the bed to her right, and extended my left arm around her, steadying her.
She shook slightly upon feeling the human contact, but allowed me to hold her.
"It'll be alright," I said. "Everything will be all right. We'll figure out what's happened to you."
There were other questions, of course. How we had gotten here, for instance. But her current situation was clearly troubling her more than anything else.
After a while, she removed her hands from her face, removed my arms from around her, and looked at me, indicating she was willing to communicate again. She couldn't respond in any way besides yes or no, but it was good enough.
So I told her what I knew.
"Okay, well, the last thing I remember was falling asleep, and then waking up here. Do you remember anything before coming here?"
She thought for a moment, and then just shrugged.
"Do you know anyone that would put us in a situation like this? I don't."
She shook her head.
"Hmm. Maybe I'm dreaming," I joked.
She glared at me.
"Okay, sorry. That's belittling your situation. Sorry."
She seemed to accept this, and looked at me again, prompting for more questions.
"Alright, so you were human before, right?"
"But you woke up here, and suddenly you were a doll?"
She nodded again.
"And you remember your name, and details about your life, right?"
She didn't respond.
Instead, she turned away, and faced forward, as if she had suddenly become aware of something.
She tilted her head down, and just remained like that for a minute or two, as if she were trying to find something within herself.
I stayed quiet again, and just watched.
Suddenly, she grabbed her left wrist with her right hand again, but in a different way, pressing in with her thumb and holding her fingertips to the other side.
She stared at it intently, unmoving, not even breathing. Three minutes. Five. Ten.
Her hand darted to her neck, and she pressed her fingertips into the side of her neck, just below her head, and held them there. More minutes passed.
Sitting next to her, I couldn't help but notice she never inhaled nor exhaled. It would've been impossible for a human to hold their breath this long, and I'm sure she realized it as well.
Finally, her hand released her neck, and pressed into her chest. This time she didn't hold in one place, instead searching all around for something, starting from just left of center, then center, then right.
I figured it out.
"Are you looking for your heartbeat?" I asked.
She looked up at me suddenly, and then gingerly offered her wrist to me, which I took into my hands, and searched as she did.
There was nothing.
"Look," I said, "let's not worry about what you are right now. Let's just see if we can find a way out of here."
She didn't respond. She just stared forward again, perfectly still, as if she were deep in thought.
I stood up, and started pressing on the walls again, knocking sometimes, seeing if any of them were loose or hollow.
Everything was solid. Nothing shifted.
I walked over to where the shears had impacted the wall, and noted that the wall hadn't been dented at all. The shears had simply broken apart upon impact.
I returned to the bed where she was sitting, gripped the side with my hands, and tried to shift it.
She didn't react to my effort, even when it failed to budge the bed in any significant way.
I sat down next to her again, and tried to think. There had to be some entrance to this room, we couldn't have been slipped in here without one. Perhaps the ceiling was removeable, and we were placed in from there.
I shielded my eyes and tried to look around the light that made up the ceiling, but there was nothing to see there, just light and more light.
A light tug on my shirt brought my vision back down, and revealed that she was staring at me.
"What is it?" I asked.
There was something odd about the way she was moving, now. She shifted closer to me, and pressed in towards me, her hard plastic lips meeting my soft, human ones.
I backed off.
"Wait a sec," I said, "don't you think this is a bad time? We should be looking for a way out, not doing... whatever it is you want to be doing."
She shook her head, and motioned to the empty room. She then motioned both hands towards me, then to herself.
"Okay, I realize that I'm a guy, and you're a girl. Doll. Girl doll, but that doesn't mean we have to do anything right now."
She motioned to herself again, more strongly this time, and again motioned to the room, empty save for me, herself, and this bed.
"Don't tell me you've found some sort of meaning to all this."
She nodded, and motioned to herself with her hands again. She then brought my hands up, and placed her own hands in them.
I started thinking.
I recalled that she never answered whether she could remember anything before awakening in this room. Maybe she had no memories. From that, perhaps she had decided that she was a doll after all, and further concluded that her only purpose here was for me.
This was a huge logical leap, but at the time, I couldn't think of any other motivation that would make her act this way.
The way she began to caress the side of my face with her hand seemed to agree.
"I'm sorry," I pleaded. "But I don't know if I can do this. You're not just some object for me to use."
She shook her head, and shifted closer to me again, caressing my left arm with her right hand.
Looking at her now, I don't think I really appreciated just how beautiful she was. Her soft, reddish hair, which perfectly framed her face. Her large, inviting eyes, slight nose, and pleasing smile, which seemed to lighten the atmosphere. Her slight shoulders, and ample bust, which swayed slightly with her every motion, but always retained their shape.
"I'm not saying I'm against it," I continued, "but are you sure it's really what you want?"
She paused for a moment, and then nodded strongly.
So I relented.
"Alright," I said. "But afterward, we'll find a way out, okay?"
She nodded again, brought her feet up onto the bed behind her, and began to crawl towards me, accentuating the shape of her bottom with every motion.
I placed my right hand against her cheek, and slowly brushed my fingers against the hard, cool surface.
This was a different feeling than before. Before, I was simply looking for a crack or a seam, too focused on finding a detail that wasn't there. Now, my senses were open. I was truly experiencing her, enjoying her for what she was.
Her soft doll fingers gently closed around my arm, caressing as well as directing my hand, slowly washing it back and forth across her cheek.
My opposite hand drifted to her shoulder, and gripped it, feeling every detail of her doll flesh. My fingers easily sank in, compressing the fluff just below the surface of her cloth skin, and found a firmness beneath it, the structure holding her together. It was not hidden deep within her, but was instead quite close to the surface, giving her skin the support it needed to keep its form instead of hanging loosely.
She looked at me, tilted her head very slightly, then mirrored my left hand's movements with her right, grasping onto my shoulder, and squeezing her soft doll fingers into it. There too, I could feel her inner structure press against my body, though obviously much closer to the skin in the flesh of her fingers.
A part of me wondered if she enjoyed examining the normalcy of my body as much as I enjoyed the uniqueness of hers.
She lay herself out along the bed, and motioned for me to come closer.
I lifted my feet onto the bed, and knelt upon her, my legs straddling hers.
She reached out towards me, and pulled me down upon her, pressing her soft, perfect breasts against my chest. Though they were masked by her shirt, I could tell that these were distinctly different from the rest of her doll flesh. They were not as soft as the fluff that was under the rest of her skin, but were instead firm and shapely, only deforming slightly as they exposed their qualities to me.
Her arms, on the other hand, were much like the rest of her, soft on the surface with a core of strength. She revealed these to me by squeezing me slightly but gently. She was a strong girl, but she knew how to be tender when it mattered. Her arms pressed but at the same time caressed, sliding her fingers up and down my back, imprinting every detail of their construction into me.
After a time, she released me, and I rose into a kneeling position once more.
Her hands sneaked their way to my pants, and then quickly and expertly undid my belt and fly, then lowered my underpants, exposing me to her.
My own hands maneuvered to her bloomers, and swiftly pulled them down, revealing her to me.
But there was nothing there to reveal. Her cloth skin was unbroken from front to back, leaving only a smoothness there.
I was confused, but her smile never wavered.
She pulled me down into lying on top of her, then grabbed me, and directed me to her smoothness.
And I felt it.
Here, her cloth skin was even more flexible than the rest of her body. I could feel myself passing through her fluff, and on to her strength inside.
Looking upon her, she tensed as I reached the apex of this pass, and quickly moved her hands to the interface, almost as if to push me away, but never quite going that far. Her legs curled up somewhat, as if she were in pain, but her eyes locked onto mine, encouraging me to continue.
Now that I had been directed, it was easy for me to find the place again, and so I invaded it once more, once again easily penetrating the soft layer, and feeling another taste of her core. The peak was tight, and seemed to clamp down upon me as I withdrew.
I repeated the motion again and again, each time getting closer to her core, receiving longer and more intense sensations from it. Her own motions echoed my own, tensing herself to prepare for each incursion, and relaxing herself with every withdrawal.
Until at last, I came upon her core, and fired everything I had upon it.
With the sound of a rip, she tensed up once more, and then faded away.
"Are you alright?" I asked.
She didn't answer. Instead, she just lay there limp, as if her batteries had simply worn out.
I was exhausted, but I managed to remove myself from her. A small amount of fluff escaped with me as I exited.
I had torn her once more, this time in a very sensitive spot. If she were to stand, it was likely all her fluff would spill from within her.
"Hey," I called to her, "can you hear me?"
She remained silent. It seemed pointless to check her for signs of life, as she had none anyway.
So, grabbing the thread and needle, which had rolled off the bed during the commotion, I decided to fix her myself.
I tried to remember all the steps that she went through when she fixed herself, and began to pull out the stretched cloth that had once been her smoothness, displacing even more fluff, and resolving it into a large, visible tear.
I stuffed the fallen fluff back inside her, threaded the needle, tied a knot in the thread, and began to sew. I gingerly pulled on each edge of the tear, careful not to rip it further, and made tight, crisscrossing stitches, leading right across the damage, and ended with another knot.
With that last action, she shivered once, and then poked up her head.
"Are you alright?" I repeated.
She sat up, hugged me, and then nodded.
I got up, after fixing my pants of course, and began thinking of escape once more. She, in turn, sat upon the bed, having replaced her bloomers.
My eyes wandered to the bed, which had shifted significantly during our activities. Between the bed and the wall, there appeared a set of hinges in the floor, seeming to indicate a door or panel of some sort.
"Hey," I said, "could you scootch the bed over just a tiny bit? I want to see what's under it."
She nodded, stood, and easily pulled the bed away from the wall, revealing what appeared to be a folding stairway under the bed.
"Well that was obvious," I muttered to myself. We must've been in some sort of attic space, carefully disguised as a cubic room.
I pressed down on the stairway, and they gently unfolded downwards.
This was our way out.
I hurried down the stairs, and instantly recognized my surroundings.
"This... is her house," I said.
I immediately ran about the house, looking for her. She had much explaining to do, trapping me and that poor doll in her attic.
But as much as I searched. there was no sign of her. Every room was as it should be, but without her in it.
And it wasn't long before I realized that I was running around the house by myself.
I walked back to the stairs I had escaped from, only to find a white fluffy trail extending down them, and following the path I had taken.
I had not sealed her up as well as I should have.
I followed the trail around the house, retracing my steps, until I found the doll I had loved those few minutes ago.
But now, she was nothing more than a cloth skin, and a hard plastic head, spilled onto the ground.