Evie had been a shy girl, She couldn’t even believe it when she’d got up the nerve to send him that message. But that’s how it all started, just a few months ago.
She barely remembered who she’d been back then. How nervous she’d felt at his first instructions, how overwhelming it felt when he’d talked her to that incredible orgasm, her first. And her last.
Then the denial had kicked in, the lessons in how to act, how to dress. Her wardrobe slowly transformed, all that boring underwear thrown away. The constant throb of her tormented clit and the difficult acceptance of just being wet, for him, all the time.
He’d told her she was beautiful, and now she finally knew it. She just felt so pretty, all the time. Even if those around her didn’t see it, she wore what he’d chosen for her, underneath her usual clothes, and even those were changing now.
And then the day came he’d asked her, made her tell him, what she truly wanted. And she trusted him enough to tell her deepest desire. To be his doll.
So quietly, subtly, from the inside out, he transformed her. His quiet words, sinking into her mind, making their shared fantasy into her reality. Her morning ritual of making the ‘Barbie Tea’ anchoring the rest of the day in the reality of being his perfect fuck toy. She was his doll now, nothing else mattered.
She would have smiled, if she’d been able to, but dolls don’t smile, not on the outside.