"And now I'll put your arm, hmm," he held my wrist above my face as my eyes stared blankly ahead, then moved it to the left. "Here."
The arm stayed frozen stiffly where he had placed it.
"Good doll. And now for the other hand."
He put this one on my breast, and gave it a little squeeze. The fingers stayed where he put them. "Yellow." The word escaped my mouth, though I hadn't chosen to speak it. I considered what was wrong, and told him. "The fingers on my breast are uncomfortable, so I can't hold this position long."
"Ah. Good doll; thank you for telling me," he said, as he moved my hand a bit.
"Thank you. Green." As soon as that word was out of my mouth, I felt myself stiffen again. Though I was thinking of saying more, and giggling at his fondness for my breast, the words dissolved into a hazy daze.
"That's right, just like that. You look so nice and blank for me."
My eyes darted to his camera, forgotten on the bed, then back to him.
"Doll," he said, and snapped his fingers. My eyes stared blankly ahead again, and this time, if I tried to move them, I felt that lovely haze filling up my mind more and more instead. "Oh ok, just a couple more. But after that, I'm taking this doll to bed and using her properly." I almost giggled. It turned to comfy mist, filling my mind with bliss. He chuckled, and I enjoyed the sound echoing in my empty mind.
I wasn't aware of him getting the camera, or taking pictures, or of time passing at all. The next thing I knew was being lifted a little, then tipped, like a mannequin or a statue, and gently supported onto the bed.