Sandy opened her eyes. 
Sandy was a doll. 
A living, breathing doll. 
Standing in the threshold of her house, her owner smiled at her. He walked past her, examining her, immobile as a mannequin. The perfect toy.
Her owner liked to play with her. 
In another time, Sandy was a girl. Five minutes ago she was a girl. 
But right now she was a doll, she would not move if she wasn’t moved. She could talk if someone pressed her right buttons. 
Her owner touched her hair, her neck, her cheeks and her lips. He kept the same satisfied smile on his lips, and Sandy kept the same empty stare in her eyes. 
He pressed a button and made her move, helping her stiffened body to the living room. 
Slowly he undressed her, his perfect doll. Folding her clothes and putting them away. 
She stood naked in front of him, her nipples standing firm. He pressed them, a pair of pleasure buttons that allowed her to moan. 
The doll released a moan and even got wet. Such a perfect docile doll. 
He pressed the button between her legs, she moaned louder. 
Satisfied he took a change of clothes,  although calling them clothing was stretching the word. 
He placed a leather harness over her chest, and secured it over her waist and legs. 
Sandy’s owner made her stand immobile with her legs spread, he shaved the bush between her legs. 
Then he found it under her bed, the toys that Sandy The Girl liked to play with, vibrators, nipple clamps and leather cuffs among other things. 
With patience he choose the ones he liked best and began to place them on his doll. 
First was the buttplug he placed with lub and love. 
Then came the nipple clamps that he placed firmly over her erect nipples. 
After that he took out a remote controlled vibrator that he shoved inside her cunt. 
He scratched his chin, appreciating his work. Then something clicked. 
A gag went into her mouth. 
He caressed her face, “Almost ready,” He whispered into her ear, but Sandy didn’t register the meaning of it. 
Finally, after tying her hair into a ponytail, he encased her head inside a leather hood, her eyes and mouth were the only feature you could make out. 
Diligently and carefully, he applied makeup on Sandy the Doll, purple eyeshadow, mascara and bright red lipstick. 
The perfect doll. 
As he was satisfied, he threw a coat over her and led her to the car. 
Sandy didn’t know where her owner would take her, or if he would like to show her off, or share her. 
Her owner made a perfect doll out of Sandy, perfect to his likes, desires and fetishes. 
And Sandy the Doll was happy, if a doll could be happy. 
She didn’t yearn for any other thing than to be perfect for him, because a toy comes alive when they play with them.