Sometimes stories take on a life of their own. Such was the case
with this tale. It came to me while I was working on "A Life With
Ariel" and, in fact, stifled the writing of said tale.  I managed
to begin and complete this tale after only two nights of writing.

Still, the formation of it took a bit longer and it lingered in
my head for quite awhile. I hope that I have corrected it
thoroughly enough to be enjoyable though I fear that only one
read since writing it will prove to be a mistake. Just the same,
I am ready to move on. So, it is presented as it is, mistakes and
all. As always, comments are quite welcome.

Disclaimer: Those wishing for a heavily sexed story should look
elsewhere. I intended this story to be erotic without mention of
sex except as a cursory affair.



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 spit and
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 made 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
fit with the catheter. Furthermore, she was worried about the
sanitary aspects of being fit 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 long and long 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 pled
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 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.