My precious little thing, standing in the middle of the room.

She asks me if it’s dolly time, and I happily oblige.

I take a little body marker and get to work.

Her subconscious knows what it means.

The soft, wet sensation of ink on skin, gently pressed against her cheeks, her eyes…

By the time I’ve drawn on her blush, she’s already gone.

Her eyes glassy, and within her mind, her skin porcelain.

Sometimes soft and plushy.

But porcelain right now.

Stiff.

Delicate.

I gently undress my beautiful doll.

Wet underneath her underwear.

Not that she would notice.

In her mind, her sex is sexless; like a doll bought at a toy store.

Hmm…

I could.

But not tonight.

I dress her in something soft and frilly, and position her next to the bed.

I snap my fingers and whisper into her ear.

“Plush.”

She goes slack and falls limply on the bed.

Within her mind, her skin now fuzzy and nice.

Warm.

Sensuous.

Not as delicate; though I won’t be very rough with her.

Not tonight.

Did she even notice the transition?

I position her gently, and I lie next to her.

I snuggle up, luxuriating in her scent.

Tonight will simply be this.

My dear, precious, mindless, petrified dolly…

You will rest with me.