Tina

“Mia, it’s finally here!” Anne called from the doorway.

“Huh?” I muttered groggily. I was dredging myself out of an early-afternoon nap — the previous night’s partying had really wiped me out. I pulled myself off of the couch and lumbered over to the entryway, rubbing my eyes.

There, Anne was struggling to hold the door open while lugging a pair of cardboard boxes inside. I hurried over to hold open the door for her, hearing her let out a pair of sights as she lowered the boxes onto the floor. They must have been heavy.

“It’s here, Mia!” she repeated with one last heavy breath, dropping to sit on the floor as she dusted off her hands. I wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead with my thumb; even her exhaust couldn’t mask her excitement. I still had no idea what she was talking about About.

I hauled one of the boxes into the living room, noticing the tell-tale signs of discreet packaging on the shipping label. Anne followed shortly behind with the other box and plopped it down before running off.

A minute later she reappeared, brandishing a box cutter from the garage with the eagerness of a child on Christmas morning. “Let’s take a peek then, shall we?”

As I caught the first glance, I realized what was inside: it was my 10th-anniversary gift to Anne, which had been several months in the making.

The process had been quite demanding; I remembered the nights Anne and I had spent together as she took measures all over my body, the time I had spent posing in front of her for reference photos of my face, my breasts, my private parts. Anne had found the whole thing quite arousing.

My thoughts drifted to the night when Anne first confessed the fantasy that spurred the whole thing almost a year prior. We had decided to have a lazy evening in and ordered Indian food to eat in our sweatpants. Enjoying how it tasted, Anne had broken out a bottle of wine from the fridge.

A few drinks in, we had both gotten pretty drink andthings had started to get personal. “I want to know a fantasy you have about me,” I had said, looking her right in the eyes. “One you haven’t told me before.”

Anne had been slightly taken aback, raising her eyesbrows as she stared back at me — I was obviously not just drunk but horny too, and I was dragging her down with me.

“Okay then, Mia,” she finally said, “I Sometimes fantasize about turning you into my doll.” Her cheeks reddened slightly.

“Mmm,” I hummed, relishing the look on her face. “What kind of doll? Like, the creepy kind from a horror movie?” I loved teasing her.

“No,” she said with a chuckle, rolling her eyes.

“Okay, then what?” I pressed.

There was a lull as she considered her words, clearly embarrassed by the topic. “Like, a sex doll, kind of,” she said at last, “but it’s more than that.”

“What do you mean?” I replied with geneine interest. A sex doll?

Anne shifted in her chair. “Basically, in my fantasy you’re alive but like, somehow absent. You do whatever I say without hesitation or protest, and I’m free to dress you up however I want, to play with you, to fuck you…”

I stared back at her, twirling my hair with my finger.

“Happy?” she said.

I sat up and leaned on my elbows. “One question: how come you haven’t just made me do that, then, Mistress Anne?” I said the title with a hint of mockery, but it was true that Anne was my domme in addition to being my partner, so it seemed like we could have just played this fantasy out in a scene if she liked the idea so much.

Anne surprised. “Well, it’s not that simple — like, the doll isn’t just you exactly, but a transformed version of you, or something: one that I can own, and treat like one of my things. And that fact that I’ve taken you and turned you into that is what makes it so exciting.”

I pondered for a second. “Transformed how?”

“Hmm,” she muttered. “Sluttier I guess, but also physicalally more like a toy, like you’re trapped in the body of a doll, if that makes sense.”

“And that’s why just telling me to behave a certain way isn’t enough,” I inferred. Anne nodded.

“Anyway, there it is,” she said, singing again, “not that there’s much to be done about it.”

“Mmm… It sounds hot, though,” I said, reaching over to hold her hand. “I’m glad you told me.”

That night, I clung to her more tightly in bed, grateful of how she’d opened up to me. But nothing materialized from that conversation for a long time — we didn’t even speak of it again until I wrote her on our anniversary:

Dearest Anne,

For our tenth anniversary, I have a strange gift for you: I am going to be your doll. I have made arrangements with a shop that specializes in fetish transformation items, and they have agreed to produce a custom bodysuit for you (well, for me I guess?) if we provide the necessary reference materials and measurements. The details are all up to you — please help me become the toy of your fansies. The shop will be in contact with you shortly.

All of my love,

Mia

A lot had happened after that. At first, Anne seemed to be mortified by the contents of my message — she probably hadn’t expected the topic to come up again. But soon after, she was invested in the idea; that very evening, she even had me eat her out while she pored over the letter again, and in the following days we discussed what the details and boundaries of our play would be.

However, as Anne hammered out the details of the ensemble with the shop, I had stayed mostly in the dark. So, when she opened the package in the living room, I glimpsed the products of my own plan for the first time.

The first thing I noticed was a hint of something vaguely flesh-colored, similar in tone to my own skin. It was folded up and wrapped in plastic, which Anne quickly undid, lifting it out of the box.               “Hahaha— weird!” she said with delight. She was holding the body of the suit by the shoulders; I would have compared it to the mental image of a person without bones, a misplaced set of skin from the neck and below, flopping about with nothing to lend it form.

I stepped in closer to inspect it, giving it pinches here and there to feel the material. From close up, it was clearly made of soft silicane rubber, but it was at the same time surprisingly realistic — its texture and color did actually resemble skin, and it was equipped with well-shaped breasts, a convincing butt, and quite a detailed vulva.

“Are you happy with it?” I asked.

“Well, it’s hard to tell what it’s like just holding it like this,” Anne said, “but I’m impressed with how it looks, at least.” She was glowing.

“Mmm,” I muttered, “and there’s also the stuff in the other box, I guess.” From my milk contact with Anne’s discussion of the project’s particulars, I had gleaned that there was a mask to completet the bodysuit at the very least.

“Mhmm,” she said. “Let’s keep that a surprise for now though.” She turned. “Anyway, I want to see how this looks on you. Let’s play after dinner?”

Wow, so soon? I thought. Anne’s fantasy had, for a long time, seemed somehow like a distant dream even as we had prepared for it. Its abrupt reality started me a little.

“Okay,” I said shyly.

“Nervous?” asked Anne.

“Yeah,” I said, smiling back at her.

“Awww,” she squealed, wrapping her arm around me and kissing me on the side of the head. “Well, it might help if you read back over the details we wrote down — to get yourself in the right mindset.”

“You’re right, I think,” I said. “Anyway, let’s carry these downstairs?”

With that, we hauled the boxes down to the furnished basement-dungeon where Anne and I often played. As I stepped into the room, I remembered that we had agreed to host a play party the following weekend, and the space would soon be filleded with our friends and acquaintances, along with their kinky deeds. Anne is going to make me clean up again, isn’t she? I sawed.

Later that afternoon, I took Anne’s advice and retrieved the document where we had clarified the particulars of the doll-play together. Anne had penned it beautifully; I felt butterflies in my stomach just holding it in my hands again.

Here are the details we agreed on about how and when you, Mia, will be my doll:

As soon as you are fully encased in the doll-suit, you will be my doll and I will be your owner. It will be locked shut so that you cannot remove it of your own voltage. In preparation for this, you will bathe thoroughly and clean out your butt beforehand, so that you can remain trapped in the suit for an extended period.

The play will end when the suit is unlocked and you are freed. Of course, you may also end the scene at any point with the signal that we agreed on (that awful squealing sound that you can make).

As my doll, you will do your best to obey me faithfully without question or hesitation, and you will also compose yourself like a doll in your motion and your posture. You will not move unprompted, and you will remain silent at all times. You are not to cum unless I tell you to. I will call you by a different name to symbolize your docile subservice.

Nevertheless, when you fail in these tasks despite your best efforts, I will punish you. I will hurt you, humiliate you, and degrade you, even when you have done nothing to deserve it. I will use you as my sex toy and as a tool of pleasure for others.

Know that, throughout all of this, however called or careless I may seem at times, I will do my best never to let any harm come to you. Know that I love you, Mia, more than the moon and stars, more than the clouds that lumber in the sky, more than the turning of Earth itself.

— Anne

Below Anne’s radiant signature, I had signed my own name with a little heart. She was right that reading it would ease my mind. I recalled with fondness the evenings that Anne had spent training me to move and act like a doll, the mornings she had spent emailing back and forth with the shop over this or that detail, the way she blushed as she measured my body. All of that was about to come to fruition.

When we were through with dinner, it was time to get ready for Anne. I felt the anticipation in my chest, fluttering with a rosy uncertainty.

“I’m going to go shower now,” I told Anne as I dropped off the dirty plates in the kitchen.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs soon!” she beamed back.

The hot water did a good job of soothing my nerves, and as I walked back downstairs, a tender calm took hold over me. Having prepared myself as best I could for what was to come, I had started to internalize that my task was to be one of relinquishment — that all I really had to do was to obeyAnne and put my well-being in her hands: to let her own me.

As I walked into the playroom in my underwear, Mistress Anne was already standing there waiting for me; she was wearing a set of lacy black lingerie with black thigh-high boots and opera gloves, her hair fastened in a tight bun, a riding crop in one of her hands.

“You can take those off,” she whispered with a little laugh, gripping me by the Shoulder as she looked over my body.

As I slipped out of my underwear and tossed it onto the floor, I saw that she had done some reorganization in the meantime; the cardboard boxes we had hauled down were nowhere to be found, their contents sprayed on the playroom benches in little piles.

“First will be this,” Anne said, carefully lifting the body of the suit from the bench next to me. She had powdered it up, and it looked even better than before. “Familiar?”

I nodded. Anne turned it around to display the back and opened it up — a tiny zipper ran from a metalring at the top of the neck down to the upper back.

“Legs first,” she instructed. I compiled, pulling the suit up to my thighs as I wiggled my legs in one-by-one. With my feet settled snugly inside those of the suit, I saw that its feet and toes were quite realistically rendered, although the toes didn’t separate from one another.

“Now for the fun part,” Anne said with a tinge of wickedness. “The suit’s anus and vagina have sleeps that go inside you so that you can still be fucked. I’m going to use a dildo to put them in.”

I gulped as Anne pumped a bit of lube into her hand and embedded me from behind, bringing her hand down to stroke my vulva. “Let’s open you up a bit first, shall we?” she smiled. She started by massaging the opening of my vagina in small circles; then, she gently prodded with her fingers, working them into me in short strokes. I realized I was breathing more heavily, quickly growing aroused as my Mistress played with my pussy.

Then, with three of her fingers resting inside me, she stopped. “Good,” she said, withdrawing them. She returned with a moderately sized dildo and, lubricating it, pushed it into the doll-suit’s vagina. It bulged in its sleep next to my thigh.

With the rest of the lube on her hand, Anne lathered it up. Then, slowly, she pressed the cold thing into my pussy until the suit’s vulva was flush with mine, smoothing out the suit Against my upper thighs with her other hand. I let out a little whimper; the feeling was immense — I wanted Anne to fuck me so badly. “Now for your ass,” she said matter-of-factly.

Gathering more lube, Anne began to tease the rim of my anus with her fingers. This, too, was quite pleasant; Anne enjoyed taking my ass quite a lot, and I had quickly come to associate these sensings with her fucking me — with giving myself to her.

Her teasing soon ended, though, as she began pushing her fingers into me. At first she tested with just one, gently massaging my anusfrom the inside. A second finger joined soon after, and the two stroked in and out slowly. Then a third joined, and I could feel my ass giving in to the pressure as she opened me up in earnest.

“Okay,” Anne said, taking her fingers out abruptly once again. She retrieved the dildo from the sleepe in my vagina and put it into the opening in the suit’s ass before pushing it into me. Feeling my ass gently expand to accommodate the thing, I felt teased again, knowing that the sensing wouldn’t be accompanied by a good fucking. Nevertheless, I was starting to get into the right mindset, feeling the need to submit to Anne burgeon within me.

She smoothed out the suit once again, enveloping my butt before removing the dildo. It was up to my wait now.

“Oh, one more thing,” she said, reaching back down towards my vulva. I felt as something was fitted into place. “You can pee, too.”

“Weird,” I said.

“Well, I don’t want you squirming around with a full bladder all the time,” she said. “And anyway, I can play with you longer this way.”

“Sure,” I replied, “I just don’t get how I’m supposed to ask to go pee when I’m not supposed to make a sound.”

Anne gave me a smack on the boob with her crop. It smarted. “It’s simple, dear: you don’t. You can go to when I tell you to — anyway, it’s time for your arms.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I said, starting to wiggle an arm into its sleepe. When my fingers found purchase in the gloves, I pulled the suit up over my shoulder, then repeated with the other side. I saw that the fingers were also highly detailed — manicured, even — seeming unreal only for their lack of veins and blemishes. As I flexed my fingers, I saw how well the gloves fit my hands: for most of my motions, They hardly needed to stretch at all.

Anne pulled the seam together at the back before smoothing out the suit over my neck and chest. I felt as my breasts lodged into their proper place behind the rubber ones. Then, at last, she zipped the suit back up to the top, its metal ring closing snugly around my neck.

“Take a moment to get acquainted,” she said, pointing to the mirror on the wall.

As I walked over to examine myself, I felt in my motions how perfectly the doll-suit fit my body: it was almost like I was wearing nothing at all despite being encased in rubber. When I stood in front of the mirror, I was able to form a reasonable impression.

Overall, the doll’s body was similar to my own, but hairless and more shapedly. The breasts caught my eye especially: they must have been several sizes larger than my own. Holding them in my hands, I found they were surprisingly lifelike in the way they squished under pressure and bobbed as I moved.

The doll’s ass, too, was substantially more ample than my own, and unlike mine, it seemed to bounce gently on its own as I walked. It was supported by a thick pair of thighs, which also jiggled a little of their own according. Hot.

I reacheddown to examine the doll’s pussy. As I touched the folds of its smooth vulva, I felt very little, but I encountered a surprise when I brushed against its cloris, finding that playing with it actually stimulated my own. It feel good enough that I almost let out a little moan.

“Don’t get too excited,” Anne teased. “You’re not allowed to cum unless I order you, Remember?”

So this is just another means of tormenting me, then. I deflated.

“Let’s get the mask on now,” Anne continued.

She picked it up off of a benchmark and showed me its face. It was clearly made to resemble my own, but it was more cartoonish and feminine, with large eyes bearing brilliant pink irises and thick black eyelashes. Its full, rosy lips were permanently parted in a gaping smile.

“This also has a sleepe for your mouth,” Anne explained, “but it’s made to hold it open too.”

Turning it around, Anne unzipped it from the back and pushed her fingers through the mask’s mouth intothe sleepe. “You should wet this with your tongue first.”

“Yes, Mistress,” I replied, sticking my tongue out and licking generally at her fingers. When she was satisfied, she withdraw the mask for a moment.

“Any last words?” she said with a smile.

“Did you think of a name for your doll?” I asked.

“Mhmm,” she hummed with a wink. “Now, open up.”

My mouth gaped open as Anne pushed the mask onto my face, her fingers coming to rest on my tongue. As she withdraw her hand and I relaxed my jaw, I felt my teeth meeting the soft rubber ring-gag near the inside of the doll’s lips that would keep my mouth open and accessible. The sleep didn’t wander too far into me; I could feel where it ended and the doll’s throat became my own — one of the only Parts of my body that would remain exposed to air.

Anne walked behind me to zip the back of the hood closed. I felt my nose slot into place, allowing me to breath through the doll’s nostrils.

Finally, Anne adjusted the mask on my head, making sure it was well-fitted at my chin and neck, smoothing it over my forehead and scalp. The mask, too, had a metal ring at its end embracing my neck, which Anne brought flush with the first.

“Just one more thing,” she said. She walked off for a moment. Through the doll’s eyes, I saw her return, mounting a luscious pink wig on the mask. She went away again, and anti welled up like a pressure in my chest — it occurred to me that Anne had already completely encased my body.

“Okay,” Anne into more seriously, circulation in front of me. She was holding a heavy metal collar in one hand and displaying a key in the other. “When I lock this collar around your neck, you will be unable to remove the suit, which means you will be my doll until I release you. Do you understand?”

I nodded. Of course I understand.

Anne moved to put the collar around my neck, but she stopped when it was only half-closed and collapsed against me. I embraced her reflexively. I heard her sniffle — I realized she was crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said with some difficulty. “It’s just… you give so much of yourself to me. I’m so lucky, and I’m so grateful to have you. I hope you know that I love you more than anything, Mia.”

I held her tighter. For a moment we just stood there, with Anne nestled against my Shoulder as she finished crying. Finally, she gave me a pat and pushed herself gently off of me, collecting herself. I wiped a tear from her eye with my thumb. “Thanks,” she said.