Doll Days

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Doll Days

Author’s note: This isnt a very nice story. Gentle people who get upset about the suffering of fictional characters should read it with caution.

Jill Cooper felt the pressure on her bladder, so got up and did her business quickly. Then she went to the sink and washed her hands, and then, still partially asleep, made the mistake of looking at her reflection.

A moment later she was on her knees in front of the toilet, retching.

Mark rushed into the bathroom, saw Jill crying and shaking in front of the toilet, and called out, “Pam!” Jill’s had an episode, come quick!”

A middle aged woman came into the bathroom, shoving the man aside.

“Dont just stand there. Go make her some tea.”

He glanced at Jill, and Pam added, “It’ll be okay. Go.”

He squeezed her hand, and then went out, leaving the two women alone.

Pam went and helped Jill back to her feet, and held her for a while, making soothing noises.

“I’m here sweetie, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Finally, Jill stopped shaking long enough to go back to the bedroom and put on a robe before coming into the kitchen and wrapping her hands around the cup of tea Mark had poured for her.

“What a crappy way to start my birthday.”

*****

Later, she curled up in bed with Mark on one side and Pam on the other, safe and warm and human again, and then her mind started drifting back to how it all started.

She had been a starving student at university, getting her first taste of the adult world, young and bright and full of potential.

And male.

She had been a typical dude, who had liked girls, enjoyed movies with lots of explosions and looked forward to losing her virginity to some pretty college co-ed as soon as he found a willing partner.

Then he had seen the ad that had changed her life, forever.

It had been sponsored by the Psch department, and it said it would be willing to pay a student for volunteering for a test. Low on cash, and curious, she had gone to see what it was about.

“We will implant a microscopic device in your brain” She was told, “It will measure when you feel happy, and when you feel sad. We also want you to keep a diary so that we can compare the readings we get from the machine to what’s going on in your life. In exchange we will cover your tuition, your books, your transportation, your lodging, and even your clothes and food for the rest of your time in college.”

He had no family, and had to take out a loan to cover the cost of going to school leaving her with little remaining, so it sounded like a good trade to her at the time.

“Besides. This guy is a respected professor, a genius with the College backing him. I’m sure everything will be fine.” He had thought at the time.

He had no idea just how wrong he was.

He signed the papers, and went in for the surgery.

When he awoke, she felt ... odd. She was still wearing the ridiculous paper gown, but on two chairs beside the bed were two complete outfits. One was the clothes she had worn before the operation - jeans, t-shirt, socks, shoes.

The other was a female outfit - panties, hose, bra, heels, and dress.

“Hello?”

The room was empty and silent.

Curiosity got him off the table and over to the girl’s outfit.

“Why would they put this here? I’m a guy.”

He touched the dress, and it felt ... good. The odd feeling he’d felt since waking up faded and he felt ... happy. The idea of putting it on ... appealed to him.

It took a lot of willpower to pull his hand back and go over to the male clothes.

Then the odd feeling came back, only strong enough for him to recognise it.

It was grief.

Utter, total, grief and sadness. It was like the day he’d learned her parents had died, only even worse than that.

Unable to stand it, he had gone back over to the female clothes, and touched them again.

The grief vanished.

Less than a half-hour later he was wearing women’s clothes for the first time.

It was then the door opened, and the doctor came in.

“As you can tell by now, we lied to you. The device doesnt monitor your emotional state. It creates it.”

“W... what for?”

“Have ever heard of a Skinner box?”

“No.”

“Its a way to train an animal. They get rewarded for doing what you want, and if they fail to do it, they dont get the reward.”

“B.. but why this? Why girl clothes?”

The doctor smiled but there was nothing nice about it.

“Its much more than clothes, as you will discover. As for why ....” He started to walk away.

“Because I could.”

*****

That was the start of four years of torture as bit by bit his masculinity was taken away, and what took its place was not real femininity, but a parody of it.

He became a toy, a doll.

He did things that would have disgusted him before, and did them happily and eagerly. Meanwhile, his inner self pulled into a hole in his own mind, and closed and locked a door behind it.

And never came out again.

Eventually, he was a she in every way possible, and her male life a faded dream.

Then somehow, someone blew the whistle, and the doctor’s house of cards collapsed. The college got a black eye for looking the other way, and she was left alone, with no one to direct her or tell her what she should do.

And she found she hated it.

She drifted, bereft of purpose until by chance she ran into Pam and Mark, and they reached out to help her. After a while, they invited her into their home.

And eventually, into their bed.

Such a triad shouldnt work, or so Jill would have thought, but somehow, it did.

And bit by bit, a true person began to emerge out of the wreck of her mind.

And today was her “birthday” the anniversary of that event.

*****

“So Jill, what do you want to do on your birthday. Go out? or stay in?” Mark asked.

“Stay in.” She said, and snuggled closer to him.

He kissed her, and Pam caressed her from behind, and Jill’s shaking stopped, as she became lost in pleasure.

Much later, she lay sleepily in bed feeling the two people she loved on either side of her, protecting her, comforting her, and she whispered to herself, “I’m safe now.”

“Safe, at last.”

And with that knowledge, she fell asleep, and only dreamed pleasant dreams.



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lesleycharles's picture

Dorothy great story. But I

Dorothy great story. But I think your doctor and Michelle's father need to work on each other. Both are heartless and cruel.

be an interesting punishment

for the both of them.

Thanks for the comment hon.

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Doll Days

A shame that the demented doctor was not rewarded by being given the same treatment that hurt his victim. And wonder if the same procedure can undo the damage? Dorothy, I ask the question because nobody should be forced to be who they are not.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Shock the Monkey

That's odd, Drea and I were just talking about BF Skinner, in not very flattering terms.

This story deals with themes familiar to fans of your stories; adding & developing on them nicely.
When you said this one wasn't gonna be pleasant I was hesitant about what I was getting into,
but it had an ending with some real hope, not the worst despair life can offer. A relationship
with an understanding supportive person or people to help get thru things?
I've read about those.

I'm not a big fan of litigation but IMO the University is responsible big time for any mad scientists
they let run around loose. Like to see her nail them to the f-ing wall;
spend a bunch of it helping victims of psychological crimes.

hugs, and kudos if i can get the clicker to go, Ronni

thanks, Ronni

this one has been sitting in my head for a long time, waiting for the right time to come out. Originally it was a lot darker, which sort of matched my mood at the time. Now that I have hope for myself, I find I want my characters to have some as well.

Thanks for the comment.

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joannebarbarella's picture

Money

I was thinking the doctor's name might be Money, or maybe Mengele.

I agree with Ronni. The university should bear responsibility for what it encouraged to happen,

Joanne

Dr. Money?

you saw the parallel to real life. It was also based on "repairitive therapy" which caused (and is causing) so much grief for so many.

Thanks for the comment, Joanne.

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