The Wish

 

All his life he had been marked as an oddity. He was only seven years of age when he first found interest in taxidermy, sparking commentary from adults (friends of his parents) that he was a bit off. It was not until he reached the age of ten that his father began to agree with his friends.

At twelve years of age Roger found interest in his mother's doll collection. And, while his father was determined to interest him in other things, his mother fully indulged him. By the time he was eighteen he had a rather extensive collection of rare and beautiful dolls.

Despite his "odd" interest in dolls, Roger had also exhibited a rather fond interest in medicine. For this his father was quite relieved. Much money and several years later, Roger Young became a doctor. Only five years after his graduation he found himself working for a firm that specialized in reconstructive and cosmetic surgery. After five more years he moved on to open his own practice.

It was shortly after graduation from medical school that his father passed. Despite the hostility that he felt towards his father Roger wept openly at his father's funeral. All of his life Roger had been desperate for his approval. Unfortunately, Roger's odd interests, especially in dolls, had placed a huge wedge in his relationship with his father. It was only when Roger entered medical school that he received a modicum of approval from his father. Truth be told, his father would have been less than pleased to know that it was his interest in taxidermy, combined with his obsession with dolls, that had driven him into the medical profession. And so, his father passed, never fully approving of his son.

It was August when he met Kaitlin. She was a twenty-six year old bank teller at a local bank. When she walked into his office he was smitten - truly. Never before had he met a woman who so stoked his fire as Kaitlin managed. She was five feet tall, petite, muscular and well proportioned. Her golden hair hung, wavy and full, nearly to her waist while framing her face in delicate fashion. Most striking, however, were her full red lips and small upturned nose.

During the interview Roger vowed that, despite her wants, he would do anything he could to preserve this natural beauty. She had wanted larger breasts and smaller lips. Cringing at the thought of such an alteration Roger fought with his mind to find the words that would convince her of the error of her requests. He was unable. She left his office determined to find another who would do as she wished.

Three weeks later she was in his office again. "I'm sorry Miss Baum, I will not make any alterations to you" he told her upon her entering his office. A few moments later he found that he was being asked out by the most beautiful woman he had ever seen - a woman fifteen years his junior.

That night, over dinner, he discovered that she, too, had an obsession to dolls. It was this obsession, she confessed, that had driven her to his office, wishing to be more like her favorite doll, Tina. For the first time, Roger felt that he had found someone, other than his mother, who might not find his obsession strange. Later that night, when he dropped her at her door, she asked if she might kiss him. Six weeks later they married.

They had been married for nearly a year when Roger lost his mother. His mother had been his only true friend and there was little that Kaitlin could do to console him. Still, she tried, having undergone a similar loss in her parents some years earlier. They cried together that night - he for his loss and she for his pain.

Nearly a year had gone by since his mother's passing. Roger found himself passing in and out of "blue moods" and unable to concentrate on his patients. And so, rather than continue on in something that for which he had lost passion, he sold his practice for a substantial sum. Later that year he purchased a house in the flatlands of Montana.

During this time Kaitlin did what she could to comfort Roger. It was difficult for her to watch him grieve but she understood. Shortly after their move he began to show his old face.

Upon arrival at their new home, Kaitlin was overjoyed. Roger had purchased a house larger than anything she had ever hoped for. And, though their previous home had been spacious, it was nothing like the one in which they now lived. Most exciting to her was the large room that he had set aside to house their doll collection complete with an adjoining workshop where he could make and repair their precious dolls.

They had been in their new home for nearly six months when Roger began to "get the itch" to begin helping people again. And so they began construction on a small office beside, and attaching to, their home. It was finished and fully stocked within only four months. Kaitlin, seeing her husband get "back in gear", was happier than she could remember ever being.

They were sitting together, eating dinner. They were speaking of things of today and yesterday, exchanging jokes and anecdotes when she suggested that she might find something to do with her time, " a job perhaps." Roger was irate, standing over his bride screaming at the top of his lungs, anger seething at the suggestion she made. In another moment he had fled, crying, into the doll room. She found him curled up in a ball, weeping. Such was their life for the next few weeks. Any suggestion could send him into a rage that would be followed by an uncontrollable fit of tears. She cried as often as he, fearing that he might be losing his mind.

It was October. Trees were shedding the remnants of the warmer months in spectacular colors. Kaitlin was staring out the window when she felt a warm hand on her back. A kiss, delicate and soft on her ear turned her attentions to him. He was smiling - apologizing. "I've been somewhere that I need never be... not with you" he told her. "I know that now. I'm sorry."

November was received with a blanket of snow. Sounds of delight filled his ears as he watched her burst, naked, out the door and into the cold snow. Shaking his head, he snatched a blanket from off of the couch and ran after her, hoping to keep his bride from catching her death in the cold.

She spun into his arms at her capture, wrapping herself around him. Making love in the snow, he found, was both satisfying and exciting. It also was a perfect way to share a cold.

It was Christmas day. Sitting in front of their tree and bundled in the clothes of winter was Kaitlin. Along with her present to him, a handmade antique porcelain doll, she had given him a "Get Anything You Want, Free" card. It was presented with a grin and purse of the lips. "I'll use this. Just be prepared for the worst,” he told her.

For his part, he presented her with a similar porcelain doll. Upon looking at it she was stunned. The doll was the spitting image of Kaitlin. For long and long she stared at it, eyes welling with tears. Then, just as he thought to ask her if something was wrong, she flung herself into his arms and smothered him with kisses and whispering words of love in his ears.

Later, after the thrall of Christmas was in the past and the mess had been cleaned, they put their dolls in the doll room, hers in a glass cabinet that he had purchased for her doll. "How did you know?" she asked him. Saying nothing, he pulled him to her and made love to her on the floor where they fell.

For much of the winter they kept very close company. The roads leading to civilized society were muddy and rough and so they were loath to leave their home. In fact, since Roger had stocked the house with every necessity, there was little need to leave their house except for some odd want - like the “Bon-bons” she found herself wanting.

As spring found it's way into the cool Montana air she found that Roger was becoming pensive. She had begun to worry that he was slipping into a state of depression, as he had before. It was not to be and, in fact, his pensiveness was well justified considering what he was about to share with her.

They had just finished dinner and were sitting on the couch basking in the warmth of the fireplace. He seemed to be a million miles away. “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked.

Tilting his head he looked at her. After pursing his lips and thinking for a moment he began to tell her of a secret want that he had always had. It was not a long tale except in the telling. For, he was afraid that she might react to this as his father had reacted to his interests in dolls and taxidermy. Then, he confided in her that the only reason for his interest in medicine was in being able to create his own “dolls” through the surgery that he performed on his patients. And then he asked the question that had been on his mind for the last few days, fearing that she might recoil from him.

Kaitlin thought for a moment. True, she found his request odd. Still, there were many other people who engaged in far stranger activities, many of which were actually harmful. His request could hardly be considered harmful. And so, Kaitlin agreed to his request, demanding the “Get Anything You Want, Free” card in return for her cooperation in his odd request. Smiling, he complied.

They were in the spare bedroom. Around her the room was covered in sheets. She was standing on a black pedestal wearing nothing but black buckled shoes. At his request she had shaved her entire body of hair. All that remained was the hair on her head. Her stomach was grumbling, unhappy that she had eaten nothing for the last twenty-four hours. “This is going to take quite a while and I don't want any interruptions. Besides, it might make things messy” he told her.

At her feet was Roger, kneeling and preparing his “special mix” and making certain that his brushes and spray gun was in order. And then it began.

His first task was to cover her shoes with tape and newspaper. Once her shoes were covered he began spraying her with the cool substance. The first blast of the cool substance was a shock that gave her goose bumps. However, as he moved from her feet to her legs she found it to be strangely erotic. In short order, using short and swift blasts, he had both of her legs covered with the substance.

Roger looked up at her, smiling as he slipped a thin piece of highly polished metal between the slit of her sex. As she began to ask what he was doing he began his work again, coating her sex.

“I want you too look like a doll – but not completely” he smiled at her.

Then he turned his attention to her posterior. Again, he placed a similar piece of metal between the cheeks of her bottom. Unlike the other piece, this had a small protrusion or knob that slipped inside of her, making her wince. Then, he pulled the piece to the left, prying her cheeks apart, and began spraying her anew. Once he was satisfied that her right buttock had dried he repeated the process with the other cheek.

She was quite uncomfortable with this, never having had anything enter her this way, but she endured, reminding herself that she loved him and that she would only have to endure this intrusion for a short while. More, she admitted to herself that she enjoyed being painted with whatever it was that he was painting her with. Besides, it was a “Get ANYTHING You Want, Free” card.

Once he began work on her upper body he had her pushed her hair into a rubber cap. Glad for the cap, she pushed her golden hair under the cap as best she could.

Two hours later he was complete. He had been meticulous, making certain to lift her breasts slightly so as not to make them stick to her body when they dried. And when he painted her face he gave her special lenses to place over her eyes so they would not be painted shut. Then, he painted each eyelid with a small brush. Her ears, nose and lips, too, were given special attention.

Once complete he rolled a large mirror in front of her so that she could see herself. She was shiny and appeared to be entirely made of a light blue plastic. Even the white rubber cap over her hair did not detract from the appearance of her being a plastic doll. She shivered at the vision, excited.

After she had gotten a good look he wheeled the mirror away. As he began cleaning his tools she ran her plastic covered hands over her body, shivering at the feeling. Then she wondered if his request were as strange as her reaction to what he had done.

“We aren't finished yet, pet” he told her.

She was curious at what more he could do and what he was now spraying on her. And then she realized that she had to use the bathroom quite badly.

“I have a catheter for that” he told her. “It will ruin everything if we don't use it”

Reluctantly, she agreed. This she did not find sensual or exciting in any way. It was uncomfortable and embarrassing being fitted with the catheter. Furthermore, she was worried about the sanitary aspects of being fitted with a catheter on such an occasion. Still, he was a doctor and he knew what he was doing. And so, minutes later, her bladder was emptied into a small bag and he was resuming his work.

It was long and tedious. Her feet hurt from the constant standing. Still, she did not move. Fortunately, the second process was much faster. He was more skilled and, apparently, this process required much less time. It was only a half an hour until he was painting her face again, first with the spray gun and then with a brush. And then, after only another half hour he announced that he was finished and she was dry.

This time, before wheeling the large mirror into her sight, he let her hair down, spraying it with a light mist. Then, he stepped aside and brought the mirror to her. Immediately she shivered, the sight of herself beautiful and surreal. She felt a surge that both frightened and excited her.

For a long time she stared at the strange image reflected in the mirror. To all outward appearances she was a porcelain figure. Her body, covered as it was, appeared to have no life. Her cheeks, carefully painted, were brightly colored in a lovely shade of pink. The most striking feature, however, were her lips. These he had painted in a crisp crimson that shone in the light. And when her hair was finally let down she appeared as perfect as any doll she had ever seen.

From the corner of her eye she saw Roger. He had departed the room, while she stared at her image, to return with a silk dress. She said nothing as he pulled the dress over her arms and fastened it to her frame. A moment later she was staring again, wondering at what she had become – a porcelain doll, ready to be encased in glass, never touched – admired always - a piece of art.

He snapped numerous pictures of her before allowing her free movement again. Truth be told she was somewhat reticent to move, wishing to hold this moment of perfection. Still, her feet were sore and she was quite tired from her long hours of standing stock-still. Reluctantly, she finally stepped from the platform.

After resting for a bit she found that Roger had prepared her a small meal of fruits with the accompaniment of fine champagne. This was to “celebrate the moment,” he told her, “when you became a living piece of art.”

Later, as the sun began its descent from the sky, they removed themselves to the doll room. Again, he snapped numerous pictures of her, telling her how beautiful she looked. Eventually, they removed her fine silk dress and, finding her “new skin” still intact, made love on the floor in front of their collection.

It was morning when they awoke. Light shone into the doll room from a window in a nearby window. Her “new skin” had degraded and she no longer had the appearance of a doll. Instead, they were sad to see, she looked as if she were suffering the results of sunburn all over her body. Despite that disappointment, they had quite the time removing her “new skin”, finding it sensual and arousing.

Over the next few months they would re-enact this scene several times. From time to time Roger would incorporate a slightly different technique to bring about a more thorough doll-like appearance. One time he even managed to coat her body with a substance that hardened somewhat, bringing about a stunning illusion that captivated them both. It was abandoned rather quickly, however, as her skin reacted to it in a negative fashion.

She was never happy with the catheter, though she accepted it as a necessary evil. She even grew to find the small intrusion of her rectum, when he separated her buttocks, rather pleasant. She surprised him one night by incorporating it into their lovemaking. Never had they felt so close as they did at this moment.

One day, as she was thumbing through the pages of a lingerie catalog she spied a silk body stocking. Upon showing it to Roger he was quite enthusiastic and suggested she order several. He had an idea, he told her, for when he next made her into a doll. Six weeks later, the stockings arrived.

After dinner that night, she modeled one of the stockings for him. She had thought that she might pique his ardor with the stockings. Instead she piqued his curiosity as to how to best use the stockings for his plan - a plan that he kept secret, telling her that he did not want to ruin the surprise. She was a bit disappointed in his reaction, though this sort of thing was to be expected considering his previous comments about the stocking.

The next few days found him in his study. He had purchase several books on various topics, all of which she ignored. She preferred to reap the benefits of his research to understanding it.

Finally, after much reading he was ready. He had purchased several items and a few odd smelling concoctions. What he planned for she was unsure of. He would only tell her that, this time, when he turned her into a doll, they would be able to enjoy it much longer than they had before. She grinned, wondering at his plan.

It was morning. The sky was overcast and rain fell in the distance. Cool air flowed through the house, a welcome relief from the heat of summer. Looking out the window she watched the rain as it swirled.

A voice, distant and muffled was calling to her. It was Roger. It was time for her transformation his voice was telling her. And so she slipped out of her clothes and headed into the “new skin” room.

He smiled and kissed her as he handed her the body stocking, instructing her to “Get dressed”. She eyed him, mocking his words. The stocking was hardly clothing to “get dressed” in. After slipping on the body stocking she could see that there had been a few adjustments. There were silk seams where there had been none before and it fit quite a bit more snuggly. “I want to get every detail right,” he told her.

Once the body stocking was properly situated on her form she stepped up onto the “doll making platform”. As she took her place on the platform she noticed that a few changes had been made to it. A tall post, ending in a neck rest and a neoprene strap, was attached to the back of the platform. Also, there were two shorter posts, ending in flat bars shaped like a “U”, extending from near the front of the platform and spaced slightly wide of where her body stood.

Her questioning look garnered the explanation that this process would be quite different from before. She would probably find it difficult to hold her hands up when he applied his plan and it would be likely that her balance would suffer as well. He knew better than she so she did not argue.

After strapping her neck into the neck rest he commanded she rest her hands on the other two posts. Then he lifted up her right foot and sprayed it, before slipping a silvery white high-heeled slipper onto her foot. Another brief blast of spray and a few gentle touches later and both of her feet were shod with the oddly pretty slippers.

In mere moments he began spraying her right ankle and calf with the same substance that he had sprayed on her feet. Then she watched as he began applying strips of silvery fabric over the areas that he had sprayed. Before long her entire leg had been covered in the silver fabric. Kaitlin, though curious, never asked about the fabric preferring to enjoy the sensations of Roger's work in silent rapture. And so she watched and wondered enjoying the sensual tension that was building inside of her. Even his insertion of a strange object into her rectum brought a minor thrill to her and she hardly noticed that, this time, the object was not removed.

Lightning crackled as, two hours after he had begun, he finished covering her body, foot to neck, with the strange and shiny fabric. The only parts of her that were not completely encased were her hands and head.

“In a moment” he told her, “ I am going to spray you down again. It's important that you don't move at all while it dries.”

He wiped his brow, sweaty from his tireless work. Then he bent and brought up one of his many spray guns and began spraying her with a liquid unknown to her. She assumed it would be some sort of latex paint but when she saw that it did not have any color she questioned him.

“Another fixative” he told her as he went on about his work saturating the shiny fabric. Once satisfied that the fabric was saturated he put down the spray gun and retrieved another to begin spraying again. A few minutes later he was done, explaining that he had just applied the catalyst that would begin the curing process.

“Don't move” he told her again. “This has to set. If you move it will spoil the effect.” She affirmed her compliance with a loving, if sarcastic “Yes, Sir!”

Kaitlin found that her excitement was growing. She suspected that he was making a cast of her body. Later, after it was hard, he would pull apart and then use it for a mold. When he was done she would have a full sized doll that was her exact match. That he would go to such troubles to provide her with a life-sized doll of herself astounded her. Never before had she understood the great lengths that he would go to for her happiness.

Finally, he announced, everything should have set and cured. To check it he rapped a knuckle on her encasement. As he expected, after a thorough inspection, her encasement was completely hard.

“Try to lift your arms” he told her. Satisfied that her arms were immobile he commanded she try to move her legs. When she was unable to move her legs he instructed her to bend at the waist. Satisfied, again, at her immobility he began the quick work of encasing her hands. Once encased in the silvery fabric and after positioning her hands “just so” he began saturating them. Thirty minutes later her hands were as rigid and immobile as the rest of her body.

After a moment of checking his work over, he wheeled their full-length mirror in front of her. Her entire body, she saw, was now encased in a shiny silver-white and gave the appearance of an odd looking mannequin. Even her pose was similar to a mannequin, legs spread slightly and arms held out, hands slightly upturned. Above the body poked a human head – her head – giving an even odder appearance. She loved it.

Glancing downward, she noticed that he had left the cleft between her legs bare. In fact, there was a rectangular opening where there would have normally been a slight slit. Then she realized that he had failed to remove whatever he had slid into her posterior. She would have shrugged if she could have. As it was, it only added to her excitement, finding it oddly sensual.

Roger, for his part, was studying his work with a smile and deciding just how to manage his next task – placing her on to a padded dolly and wheeling her into the doll shop. He didn't want to take a chance on injuring her by letting her fall. Aside from hurting her it was also likely to damage all the hard work he had put in on this project. Finally, he had worked out the physics behind what he had to do and set about accomplishing it. Minutes later, after a bit of struggle, he was wheeling her through the house and into the doll shop.

To say that she was worried when he placed her on the work stand would be an understatement. When he wheeled her into the room she saw that he had constructed a large rolling stand. The stand had two posts, one in the back that had a neck rest similar to the other stand and another that was slightly offset from center.

She suspected, with disbelief, what the center post was for and voiced her concern to him, strenuously voicing her disapproval. Ignoring her words and in a matter of a few seconds, he had slid the post inside of the complaining woman, explaining that it would fit securely within the rubber coated tube that he had secured inside of her. When she realized that she could not feel the intruding post she became quiet, embarrassed at doubting him.

After making certain that she was held securely, and with no worry of injury, he left the room. When he returned he was carrying a bucket of water and several white pieces of white cloth. After setting the bucket and sheets on the floor her reached into his pocket and withdrew several packages of wet-dry sandpaper.

It was nearly six o'clock in the evening when he announced that she was “as smooth as glass”. Having dosed off, she hardly stirred. Seeing that she was sound asleep he decided to take a nap of his own. Curling up at her feet, beside the stand on which she stood, he slipped into the world of dreams.

It was almost midnight when she roused him from his slumber. She was sore and cramping slightly from the ordeal that she was enduring and wanted him to cut her out of the shell that imprisoned her. Much to her chagrin, his soothing words calmed her and she agreed to let him finish his work. Then, after emptying her bladder, he returned to his project.

It was late when he finished. When he brought the rolling mirror into the room and let her gaze at herself she was amazed. His previous experiments had produced wondrous results but this was beyond comparison. His work had left her looking as if her entire body was composed of fine porcelain.

After nearly three more hours of standing stock still she began to complain again. She had not eaten in over forty hours and was quite famished. To add insult to injury she told him that she was feeling rather stiff. Laughing at the ironic truth, he finally fed her a dinner of fruits and cheese washed down with wine. Then, after carefully removing her from the stand, he wheeled her into the bedroom and rested her on her back in their bed. Then he set about making love to her in the only manner possible.

Her head was reeling from the assault his tongue was making between her legs. Her inability to move, even a little, thrilled her. Never before had she been subdued during their lovemaking. Her imprisonment pushed her over the edge of anything that she had known previously and she found herself in a euphoria that left her nearly delirious. Utterly exhausted, she fell into a deep sleep as soon as he withdrew himself from between the cleft between her legs.

She awoke to find herself staring straight ahead, unable to move in the slightest. After a moment of confusion she realized that she was in the workshop on the specially made stand. Behind her she could hear Roger working. Her first attempt at asking Roger what he was doing left her curious – her mouth was as immobile as her head and body were. All that she was able to do was mutter vaguely coherent words. Roger slid around and into her vision. She tried to speak again, becoming frightened at her complete immobility and strange inability to speak.

“Ah, you're awake,” he said to her as he began painting something onto her chin. It was then that he explained her current predicament and in a matter of a few minutes she was frightened and horrified beyond comprehension.

Before their lovemaking session, Roger told her, had slipped her a slow acting drug to induce a deep sleep. She had been kept in heavy sedation for the last ten weeks. During that time he had removed her teeth, replacing them with plastic. “Most importantly,” he told her, “I severed several muscle groups in your face and head and fixed your jaw, slightly open, so that it cannot move. This way you will have perfectly relaxed features for when I complete your transformation”

Had she been able to speak clearly she would have been unable. And as his words sank into her she realized that his plan had not been to make a doll for her but to turn her into one. Then she realized that this man, seemingly normal and gentle, was completely insane.

She stared distantly at the ceiling as he continued talking to her. “I also removed all of your hair via electrolysis.” He continued. “Don't worry, I saved your hair and had it made into a wig. When I am finished you will be beautiful always.”

He was almost finished with his work. Her entire head was now covered in the glistening fabric. “Fiberglass,” he explained to her. “Harder than steel.”

Suddenly, she regained her senses and began screaming in nearly unintelligible sentences. “Ah du nanna de a doll!” she screamed out.

He laughed, not believing her. “I know you better than that.” He told her. “You're just a bit frightened because you can't move. That will pass. Besides, I have everything taken care of. Your intestines have been purged, you won't have to worry about your cycle anymore and your food needs will be taken care of with an IV… it's all taken care of, even your finger and toe nails.”

Again she screamed out, protesting her incarceration. She pleadede and begged him to set her free. But it was all to no avail. In the end, he refused to believe her, remembering to her the comment she made to him so long ago; that she had wished to be like her favorite doll.

After the mask of fiberglass had cured he began the smoothing process. During this time she argued continuously that this was not what she wanted. Often she screamed, fear overcoming her. Other times she sobered, determined to convince him with logic. Nothing she tried worked. He was beyond reason or anger. He could not be reached.

All too soon he placed glass lenses over her eyes and began fixing them into place. They were dolls eyes, she knew. It was at this point when she ceased her arguments, giving into her fate for the moment. Helpless, defeated and exhausted beyond remembrance, she fell into sleep.

She woke, some hours later, to the sound of Roger's voice rousing her. Disoriented and groggy she decided that she was waking from a horrible nightmare. As her head cleared she realized that it was no nightmare. Instead, it was a horrible truth – a punishment brought upon her by God for all of the sins she had committed in this life and all those before.

Gazing from behind blue tinted eyes she could see her image in the mirror in front of her. It was her – only it was not her. She had seen this image before. The long golden hair gently caressing rosy cheeks, the ruby red lips, the pale skin; all were familiar. This time, however, it would not peel from her body. This time it was forever.

“Beautiful, always“ she heard him mutter to no one.

She spoke to him again, requesting he forsake his plan for something more reasonable. But her words, in askance of release, fell on the ears of a madman bent on her demise as a human being. Regardless of any reasoning or pleading, he refused to return her to freedom; always returning her arguments with her own fateful wish. She gave up again, resigning herself that he was out of her reach – at least for the moment.

After removing the mirror from her sight, Roger began to dress her in a dress that, he explained, had been especially made for her. He had commissioned its creation two years ago. Now, with her permanent transformation, it was the perfect time to break it out. “It was made to exacting specifications to match the dress of your favorite doll.” He told her as he fastened it to his horrified bride.

Her heart jumped, realizing that their experimentations and playful doll acting had not been mere fun for Roger. Instead it had been a precursor – a plan – for her eventual and permanent entombment. This understanding sent her mind racing and she began begging for release once again. Just as before, he was not to be swayed.

Regardless of her arguments, logical and hysterical, he refused to accept that she did not want to be a doll. Over the following year her pleas for freedom would lessen until they ceased entirely.

Her anger, once vivid, began to diminish to a bare spark. Slowly that spark gave way to hatred and then depression. Then, as another year and then another passed she forgot her depression, resigning herself to being forever frozen in time; a display piece for the husband she had once loved.

When this transformation took place she could not say. All she knew was that she no longer feared nor hated her life, such as it was. Eventually she came to love Roger again for the attention and care with which he took care of her. Occasionally she wished that she could do something to help him or show her appreciation for him. Then she would remember her station, sighing inwardly. “I am only a doll' she would think to herself.

Roger, for his part, took the care of his “Kaitlin Doll” (as he now referred to her) quite seriously. When he was not working on the yard or otherwise entrenched in the general maintenance of their home he took great pains to ensure her well-being. Often times, after her “feeding”, he could be found reading a book to her. Other times he attended to her sexual needs, removing the small “door” that he had put into the crotch of his doll. He was happy and so was she; he knew that with the certainty of a madman.

It was summer. She had been entombed for over ten years now and hardly remembered her life before her transformation. Any memories of that life had been quickly suppressed, her mind refusing to accept any but her current state of being. She was a doll, in body and mind, wanting for naught but the attentions of her creator.

Roger was outside mowing the grass of their large yard on his riding mower. Kaitlin watched, unmoving. Once the lawn was finished he came into their home and wheeled her from the window and into their living room.

Kneeling down behind her, he pulled the “door” that he had installed behind her knee, revealing the feeding tube that kept her fed. As her “feeding” commenced he took his place on the couch directly in front of her. Then he picked a book from off of the coffee table and began reading to her. She listened, rapt at the sound of his voice and the tale it was telling. This was her favorite part of their lives together.

His coughing disturbed her reverie and, as he recovered, she noticed that there was something different about him. She was unsure what it was but he was different, somehow. Then, as he began to read anew, she forgot her thought, returning to the delight of the tale.

Later that day, he wheeled her into the doll room. Shortly after her entombment he had covered the walls in mirrors so she could see herself whenever he placed her there. This was another treat for her. It made her feel special. It was as if she were in a room filled with diamonds - she being the most exquisite of them all. He told so.

It was here, staring at mirrored image, that she realized what was different about Roger. He was growing old. In those moments when she could see him clearly, even behind her blue dolls eyes, she could see his age. Around his eyes were wrinkles where there had been none. His forehead was creased deeply and his hair was thinning and gray. Suddenly she hated Roger.

As time was to pass she feared that her hatred for him would grow. And so it did. She never voiced her hatred to him. In fact, had ceased speaking long ago. Instead, she endured her newfound hatred, silently seething at his every word and motion.

Had she been asked, she could not have answered why she hated him. She did not know. So far as she remembered he had been loving, caring and gentle. He saw to her every need, keeping her entertained, fed and sexually satisfied. Still, she wished him dead.

Shortly after her thirteenth anniversary as a doll Roger took ill. It was sudden and unexpected, in the middle of her feeding. She watched, excited, as he clutched his chest in the throws of a heart attack. Her eyes burned in hatred, hopeful for his death. He was barely able to make it to the phone and dial for emergency aid before he died. Thirty minutes later help arrived.

As paramedics gave up on their hope to revive him, one of them spotted the IV that led into the back of Kaitlin's leg. Curious, he studied the situation wondering why a doll would need intravenous fluids. His curiosity was turned to startled horror when he realized that the doll was a living being.

He called to the other paramedic, not believing what his eyes told him to be true. Moments later they were removing her from the stand and wheeling her into their ambulance. Stock still, she rode to the hospital. She had no idea if they had saved Roger, they never said. She was, however, hopeful that they had not.

As soon as she arrived at the hospital, doctors began inspecting the entombed woman. Soon after, they began removing her from her casing. After nearly two hours they had her removed and lying, sedated, in a hospital bed.

She woke in a dim room. For the first time in many years she was peering, not from behind blue tinted eyes, but with her own clear eyes. She did not move.

A nurse was the first to see that she was awake. Caring words from her lips comforted the former doll. As the day commenced various physicians, police and other strangers visited her. Slowly she came to realize that she was free again. With that realization came long suppressed memories. Suddenly gone was “Kaitlin Doll”. In her place was Kaitlin Young.

Several weeks later, after her skin had begun to take on natural color and after much physical therapy, she had begun to walk again. Her muscles, long unused had atrophied to a stunning degree during her years as a doll. When she had first come into the hospital she was unable to even sit up, now, after much determination, she was ambling along with the aid of a nurse.

That she had not spoken was no surprise to her psychiatrists. Considering what she had been through they doubted she would ever speak again and believed her mind to be irreparably damaged. They were wrong.

Eventually, Kaitlin began to speak. She told the doctors, as best she could, that Roger had immobilized her jaw. Upon examination they discovered that she had indeed been immobilized and that, after a minor procedure, would regain full use of her jaw. They could do nothing, however, about many of the muscle groups that had severed and removed from much of her face.

A week later she was speaking semi-clearly. Her voice no longer held the pleasing lilt that it once had. But it was “coming along” her doctor told her.

Several months later she was due for release. She had regained full use of her extremities and, though not strong, she was able to get around well enough. The state had provided her with money from a victim's fund. They had also put her up in a state sponsored home and had been offered several job opportunities. Beyond the state's social programs there were many media outlets and publishers who were clamoring for her story. Finally, Roger had left a will that left her with his entire estate. She would be well off by the time her story was told.

On the day that she left the hospital she decided it was time to look at herself. Her entire stay at the hospital she had avoided looking at herself, fearing that age and time spent behind fiberglass had ruined her face. Already she had suffered through seeing her limbs atrophied and breasts sagging. True, her appearance had improved through her hard work. Her face, on the other hand, was not the same thing.

She stood in the bathroom of her hospital room for several minutes. The light was out. She was building the courage to look at herself. That she would no longer be so beautiful as she once was she knew. But she was frightened of the unknown. Finally, she flipped the switch bring light to the room. Adjusting her eyes to the light she stared into the mirror in front of her.

In front of her, gazing into her face was the same beautiful girl that she had once been. That she was astonished at what she saw could not be told. There was nary a trace of that she had aged, even a day, since she had been entombed. She left the hospital cheerful and energetic.

Three days after she had returned to her home she had the place completely refurnished. It was now devoid of anything to remind her of her time with Roger. In fact, the entire place had been gutted of anything that could ever remind her of her imprisonment. Soon she would have nothing but memories of her ordeal. And those, she knew, would fade as time passed.

Still, despite her removal of anything associated with Roger, memories of her ordeal lingered. Many nights she found herself awakened by nightmares that would leave her screaming and crying out to be free. And so, her health suffering, she determined to sell her house and move to Los Angeles. Within the matter of a few months she had sold the hated house and moved into a spatial home in the Hollywood hills.

Epilogue:

Finishing up her workout routine she headed into her bathroom to wash up. The hot water felt good on her tired and sore muscles. It had taken several months of hard work before her muscles had returned to their former strength. She was happy and healthy. Most importantly she was free with little to remind her of ever being imprisoned as a doll save her bare scalp and her missing finger and toenails.

Stepping out of the shower she grabbed a towel and began drying off. It had been a long day for her. The interviews with the media combined with those with scriptwriters had taken their toll on her mentally and physically. She was drained and looked forward to her life slowing down.

She reached over to the mirror and wiped a small circle on the fogged glass and stared at the face in front of her. For the last few months she had avoided looking at herself, though she was not certain why. It came to her then, as she tried to smile.

Staring into the mirror, she saw her face. Her eyebrows were perfectly formed and her lips curled up slightly in a slight smile. Attempting to purse her lips she found that she could only manage a slight “O”. For several minutes she fought, trying to form expressions other than her slight smile. She tried to raise her eyebrows and then to wrinkle her forehead and nose.

For a long moment she stood, staring at herself, wishing she could wipe the smile from her face. She spoke to herself, watching how her mouth barely moved with her words. It was a wonder, she thought, that she could even speak coherently.

For several more minutes she stared into the mirror, looking at herself. Suddenly it dawned on her that, for all intents and purposes, she was still the doll that she had been made into; Her face was exactly the same, her hair was a wig; her nails were surgical implants. Even without her doll's casing, she was a doll – a living, breathing doll.

As the memory of how she had once wished to be more like her favorite doll, Tina, tears began rolling down her cheek, cascading over the slight smile that would forever grace her beautiful face.

29.05.10