Nicole hummed quietly to herself as she knelt in the bathroom. Her knees, heels, and toes were all close together; her ass bobbed happily in the air, and her big, fake tits brushed against the floor, her nipples hard with glee at this rough treatment, as she scrubbed with one hand at the shower tiles. Not that they were anything but pristine, but Master had very specific rules for how his doll should fill her day when he was out of the house. The better she followed his rules, the more her clit tingled, the steadier the drip from her pussy. Both of those seemed like enough justification on their own.

(Nicole didn’t think of it quite like that. She tended to use much smaller words. But somehow the sense in her thoughts was as clear as if she had access to a wider vocabulary.)

Master wasn’t there and was unlikely to arrive before she expected him, so Nicole didn’t waste her good clothes for this. She had on a tattered near-dead pair of cutoff jeans shorts and a pair of white socks. Otherwise she was completely nude.

Nicole had been Master’s doll now for about ten years, since the moment she was ready for dollhood. “One careful owner,” Master would say sometimes, and invariably he’d then laugh. Nicole would smile along with his amusement, pleased to see him happy. And she’d squirm where she stood, or sat, or knelt, because the pleasure she felt always hit her in the libido first.

Over the years she’d learned how to make Master happy, and she’d learned plenty about herself, too. Nicole had started as a doll before her first boob job, for example. But she loved her big fake boobs, and she loved how Master reacted to them.

She’d learned to take care of her body the way Master liked it; she had a little workout she always did half an hour after he’d left the house in the morning, just long enough that she knew he wouldn’t be heading home early, and then she could shower and wash the bathroom.

She dyed her own hair nowadays, maintaining a bottle blonde, with the care of someone who knew how easily bleach could damage her hair. She kept her roots from showing with a treatment every three weeks.

With the bathroom spotless, Nicole slithered backward on hands and knees until she was back into the corridor, where she rose and turned. There was a list in her head of things Master wanted from his doll that day, and whenever she referred to it mentally, Nicole felt the need to stop and concentrate. She didn’t want to be caught out, didn’t want to let him down. If she let him down he’d be so disappointed. He probably wouldn’t even bother to punish her.

She stopped at the guest room door. She could still hear a low, almost constant babble from the room; cracking the door open, she peeked inside, careful not to even glance at the big TV screen with the sombre blue vortex spiralling through a hot pink background.

Instead her eyes went to the long torso and the peaceful, empty expression of Lakeisha, who Master was making into a new doll, and who was the source of the babble, now revealed as a mantra her voice was starting to slur and stumble over as her latest day of indoctrination continued.

“No power… no control… no choice… no power… no control… no choice…”

Nicole smiled as she closed the door behind her. The bright pink reflected on Lakeisha’s dark bronze naked flesh had shone beautifully; she would make such a good doll. It had been interesting to watch Master talk her round into curiosity, then temptation, then trial, and finally agreement.

Really, though, that was Master’s business. Dolls did not concern themselves with how they had been made.

Nicole headed downstairs and began to gather the ingredients to make fresh pasta. It was a good task for a doll; it required devotion, precision, but no thought, so it was simple. But the satisfaction of good food, made with an effort he did not have to personally expend, was great for Master, and so when she served it to him as part of his evening meal, Nicole already knew she would squirm with excited delight.

She had just taken the eggs from a bowl by the stove when the doorbell rang. Nicole smiled; Master had mentioned he was expecting a delivery soon. She rested the eggs back in the bowl and almost skipped off to the front door.

Nicole remembered how she was dressed only once the door was already wide open. The man stood there holding a package for her wore a tattered, much-worn baseball cap on its last legs, a shabby woollen jumper that reeked of cannabis, brown shorts, and sandals.

He was clearly not prepared for the beautiful body of womanhood who opened the door, and for a moment Nicole actually feared he might manage to do himself a mischief.

Without embarrassment she reached out and plucked the package from his hand. “Thanks!” she bounced. “Do you need a signature?”

He made a noise that might have been yes, might have been no, might have been something else entirely, and turned away, defeated. Nicole, who hadn’t realised there had been a contest, let alone that she’d won, closed and re-locked the front door and skipped through into the living room, where she laid the package reverently on the drinks table next to Master’s side of the sofa.

*

Everything was going swimmingly by lunchtime. Nicole had just made an omelette for Lakeisha – she wasn’t in a position to eat complicated foods, mentally, and wouldn’t be again until she was completely doll – and was just about to start her own when the doorbell rang again.

Ever curious, Nicole moved the pan off the heat and hurried to the door. This time she had no knowledge of any incoming delivery or any other visitor, but that was fine, wasn’t it? People just sometimes visited. There didn’t have to be a reason.

She opened the door to find standing there a tall man, good-looking, dimly familiar. Nicole always seemed to take a few moments to process facts that didn’t revolve around her doll-like existence, and she smiled after blinking twice. “Lee!”

Lee had dated her best friend when they’d all been at college. Nicole had vague memories of attending their wedding, a few years ago, but those memories didn’t belong to her doll life, so she didn’t think about them often. It often felt a little… rude. Like she was intruding on someone else’s thoughts - which, in a way, she was!

Pre-doll Nicole was the vaguest of ideas to her. The transition, too, was lost. Dolls weren’t supposed to concern themselves with how they had been made. But Lee just about held on in her memory, if she was prompted, as did her best friend Cate.

As happy as she was to see him, though, Lee’s expression wasn’t nearly as joyful. He flushed crimson and turned his head away. Nicole had forgotten the delivery man’s reaction earlier, but would probably have looked on it as a positive. Lee averting his eyes just seemed unnecessary; it wouldn’t even occur to Nicole he might be embarrassed. After all, she wasn’t.

“Nicole, are you… uh…” She saw him clench his jaw as he struggled for the words.

“Oh, I’m great!” she bounced in reply. “What can I do for you?”

It was one of Master’s favourite questions for her to ask. It always put a smile on her face. But as she stretched up on her toes, leaning closer to Lee, it didn’t seem to be working for him.

“I’ll be going in a moment,” Lee said, still not looking at her. “I didn’t realise I’d be interrupting…” He trailed off and tried again. “See, it’s just that…” Another attempt after a few moments of silence. “We moved last year,” he said. “And when we did Cate found out we still had some stuff of yours.” He reached down and picked up a cardboard box. Nicole hadn’t glanced down; he must have put it down before he rang the doorbell. “I don’t even know how old this is. But since I was back in town today…”

Nicole accepted the box cheerfully, glancing down at it. It looked like an old doll on a stand (that was funny, she thought; imagine if dolls could have dolls) along with a couple of books, a pile of old CDs, and a few other items buried beneath. “Thank you,” she said, and remembered her manners. “Can I get you a coffee?”

“Uh… look, I’m clearly interrupting something.”

“Oh, no, no,” she said. “I’m the only one home.” She remembered Lakeisha. “Well, sort of.”

Lee shook his head. “I’ll call next time,” he said, and was already walking away.

Nicole watched him go, hugging the box against her flat belly. She gave Mrs McGuinness, out walking her whippet, a wave, then bounced back into the house and closed the door.

*

Out of sight beneath the books had been a pen drive, a neon yellow piece of plastic which seemed somehow powerfully familiar to Nicole in a way the books sort of didn’t. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, rubbing at it with her thumb in a way even Nicole could tell was muscle memory. Something from before she was a doll.

Nicole bit her lip thoughtfully, looking at the drive. Master wasn’t going to be home for quite some time…

She hurried up to Master’s study. He’d spent quite a bit of money on this room; it was almost as well furnished as the bedroom. One of his priorities had been a desk large enough for a doll to kneel under it, comfortably, even if someone were sitting in the expensive, highly comfortable chair.

On the desk itself were two monitors, a small TV hooked up to a console, a keyboard to go with the tower PC below the desk, and a small painting area for Master’s other nerdy hobbies. The keyboard just about hid a bank of USB slots, into which the pen drive fitted eagerly. Nicole logged onto Master’s PC and opened up the drive.

It was full of video files. The thumbnail was pretty similar for most files; a striking brunette woman with a white-walled backdrop, one movie poster hanging up in view.

Nicole was not a stupid woman by any means, but she was pretty sure Master limited where and how her intelligence could be used. The strings of numbers that were the filenames were dates, but that wasn’t something Nicole would ever realise; it wasn’t a type of logic a doll needed. The only problems dolls needed to solve were their owners’ problems.

She opened one of the files at random. As the video window opened and the image sized up much larger than the thumbnail, Nicole was struck by the woman’s remarkable facial resemblance to her, except that she didn’t bother with makeup beyond foundation and her dark hair made her face look somewhat different.

She didn’t sit up as straight as Nicole did, either. Nicole tutted to herself. Keeping her back straight was a big part of proper doll display. That wasn’t something she’d ever want to fail to do. Master would be unhappy.

“So this is Monday,” the Nicole on the screen began. “Monday September 19th, 2011. It’s pretty late - I really should be in bed rather than recording this, but like usual I missed a week’s worth of entries and I really need to get caught up at least a bit.

“So. Um. College is fine. Actually pretty easy at the moment, everything’s just revision right now. I probably have another month or so before that changes.” She smiled. “And it turns out I remember most of it from first time round. All that time I spent worried about remembering everything, but it’s coming easy. So that’s good.” She cleared her throat.

“I’m less sure right now about me and Rick.” Rick, Nicole knew, was the name Master used with people who weren’t dolls. “The whole hypnosis thing… he’s been talking about it more and more often lately, and it was starting to get to me. I actually found his ex on Saturday and I spoke to her about the whole thing.” She frowned. Bit her lip. Nicole saw the indecision, the uncertainty, and she felt sorry for this woman. (Hard to think of her as her own old self.)

“Apparently he tried it with her a couple of times, and she enjoyed it. But then he started talking about some… some grand plan.” Screen-Nicole rolled her eyes. “I assume it’s a fantasy, Like, Deborah went under and she forgot her name for the afternoon, but that’s about it. Doing much more than that doesn’t seem believable. And he’d have to do a lot more for this fantasy.” She looked away from the screen thoughtfully. “If he even still has it. It might have been her, honestly.”

She shrugged. “I mean, Deborah’s got bigger tits than me, she’s got longer legs, she does so much swimming she has thighs I’d die for, let alone Rick, and I’m straight.” Nicole chuckled to herself; this older self seemed to think faster. She certainly talked more eloquently. Strung her sentences together properly, without hesitating or stumbling over word choice or how to say what she wanted to say. But she’d been plain wrong about being straight, and presumably didn’t have the experience to realise how wrong she was.

“Plus she’s blonde. I think she fits this dolly idea a lot better than I would.” There was a moment’s hesitation; she blinked nervously. “Does make me wonder what he sees in me…”

That was unfair, Nicole thought; Screen-Nicole had a beautiful smile, when she wasn’t nervous. Great lips. And her long brunette hair had something wonderful about it. It was too bad she was flat-chested and apparently didn’t work out to get her body in tip-top sexy shape, but that could all be corrected, just as Master had done with her. And she’d find out soon enough how much better she looked as a bottle blonde too.

In fact, Nicole thought, there was nothing wrong with Screen-Nicole at all, but she was almost entirely the opposite of the doll Nicole had become.

That was a bit odd.

She skipped the video back thirty seconds and listened to the description of Deborah again, watching her lips and eyes closely, listening for tone. Had Nicole been insecure, as she seemed to think? Or was it jealousy?

“It worries me, is all,” Screen-Nicole said. “I’ve got a very clear picture for my life. Finish up here. Complete the law degree. Find a firm I can work while I study. Sit the bar. Find somewhere reasonably low on lawyers, move, set up my own practice by thirty.” She took a deep breath. “It’s going to be a lot of work. Can’t help but be a lot of work. But I know how fulfilling it’s going to feel. Rick’s little fantasy is… well, at best it’s going to be a lot of hours I can’t bill. At worst it’s a sign he’s an irresponsible deadbeat who wants someone to do his chores and take care of him.”

She smiled wryly at the camera. “If the sex was lousy he’d already be gone. Same with the conversation. But this?” She sighed. “I really don’t know. Some fake-tittie mashup of a fifties housewife and a blonde nineties porno bimbo…” She trailed off. “Who’d want that?”

The video was silent for thirty seconds. Nicole watched her older self with something approaching horror. Who wouldn’t want to be a doll? Except Master, obviously. And Deborah, whoever she’d been. Lee hadn’t made Cate into a doll, despite the fact those two had now been together for more than a decade. Nicole figured that meant Lee just didn’t know how, though - not that he’d be against the idea of dolls in general. Dolls were far too good for anyone not to like them.

“I’ll have to have a proper talk with him, won’t I?” she asked, and sighed. Her shoulder shifted as she did something offscreen, and the clip ended.

*

Nicole didn’t want to watch any of the other videos just yet. She had a strange, uncomfortable uncertainty buzzing at the back of her head, and she didn’t like that at all.

She went back to the list of duties she had for before Master came home and instantly began to feel better, calmer, happier. Completing her duties was a form of obedience, and all forms of obedience fed her pleasure centres. That was the benefit of being a doll; she could always bounce back to a positive mood in minutes, either by obeying her Master or, if there were no orders to follow, by waiting decoratively for orders.

The sauce for Master’s pasta dinner had been cooking on a low heat for some time; Nicole recovered the dirty plate from Lakeisha’s room and placed it in the dishwasher. Then, as it was near the time that Master might return home, she went upstairs to the doll room.

Her denim cutoffs were by that stage quite wet from her own excitements; she removed them and placed them in the laundry basket, then stepped into the bathroom to freshen up quickly.

Returning to the doll room, she selected a shimmering green thong with a high waist, drawing it up proudly to match the small gemstone winking from her belly button piercing. Next came a pair of white knee socks, adjusted carefully before she fastened a green skirt around her waist, the hemline placed precisely so that nothing was revealed while she stood upright but if she should bend at the waist or stretch up on tiptoes just the slightest amount, the green shimmer of her panties would be revealed. Dainty dark green mary janes completed the look from the waist down.

Satisfied, she sat at the makeup table to fix her hair and apply her makeup. Her instincts having clearly already decided that today was a green day, she applied coral green lipstick and deep sea green eyeshadow, blending the edges carefully for maximum effect. She brushed out her long blonde hair and let it tumble down her shoulders and back, smiling to herself as she did. A doll’s duty was always to look stunning when their owner might see.

There was a deep green corset in her wardrobe and she deliberated for some moments between that and other options, finally deciding on the black push-up bra under a transparent green blouse which, rather than buttoning up, she tied off under her tits, the better to show off her figure and her belly piercing.

All was well; she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen. There had been no texts from Master saying the day had gone badly; rather than pour a glass of spirits, she took the beer glass out of the freezer where it had been busy frosting all day and set it in the fridge so that by the time Master touched it it would be merely cold rather than painfully so. (Nicole herself hadn’t noticed the sting; she never did. Not anymore.)

Then Nicole turned and faced the window, where she could see the car arrive when Master returned. As she saw him pull in, she took the glass and beer bottle from the fridge, opened the one to pour it into the other, and then went through to open the front door just as Master arrived on the step.

Nicole was a doll, and dolls lived for the happiness of their owners, so it was no wonder that she felt immediately euphoric as he looked her over and smiled. He’d told her at one point that the way she felt was much like love, which non-dolls felt instead. Nicole liked to think that Master loved her. She did her best to make him feel good all the time, after all.

He handed his laptop bag into her free hand while accepting the beer from her with the other. Stepping up close he kissed her, a growl in his throat as she instinctively pressed up against him while she kissed back. She loved to hear that growl. It meant she was doing her job.

Then he moved past her, heading for the living room, and Nicole set his laptop bag down on a chair and busied herself for a few blissful moments with the duty of clearing out the detritus of the day. She loved little tasks like that, which didn’t require any thinking at all; they were just opportunities to feel good and happy and to show to him and herself how deeply her submission ran.

She checked on the sauce then joined him in the living room, where she waited for a moment to gauge his mood, then moved behind his chair. Resting his head on her tits, she brought her hands up to his shoulders and began a massage, something she’d become very skilled at over the years.

There was something like a purr that Master did, in the back of his throat, when she got it just right. He shifted in his chair in a way that she always liked to compare to her own happy squirming when she felt the pleasure really building through her. It was the greatest compliment a doll could be paid.

She was absently drifting on the waves of pleasure, staring off into space without thinking, when Master spoke. His voice was the only one she had to heed; if he spoke in her hearing, she would always be instantly alert.

“What’s getting to you, doll?”

“Pardon me, Master?”

“What’s getting to you?” he asked again. He did something he almost never did, turning around to look up at her. She having offered her chest to him as a headrest, his face was partially hidden by the swell of her implants. “I’ve owned you for ten years, sweetheart. I know when you’re not happy.”

Nicole couldn’t remember a time she’d been unhappy. Not as a doll, anyway; she was pretty sure Screen-Nicole had had some unhappy days.

…Oh. Yes.

She took a deep breath. “Well, Master,” she began, and she launched into the entire tale. There was no worry in her mind that he might not want to hear it; he’d asked her. Not giving him a full answer would be a betrayal of a level she couldn’t imagine.

*

Nicole had waited outside Master’s study, the door closed, while he’d gone in and watched the various videos. She was a little worried that she’d done something wrong - but whatever else was happening, at least she’d told Master the truth. She felt better just for doing it; dolls didn’t keep secrets from their owners.

All these rules she followed as a doll… she usually didn’t even notice them. They were just part of her life, part of how she behaved, and they brought her satisfaction to follow.

It was only at strange times with stranger challenges, like this one, where there was an issue. To compensate a little and give herself that happy submissive feeling, Nicole stood to attention, hands rigid by her sides, chest pushed out.

There were so many shortcuts to feel better as a doll. She couldn’t imagine how much her older self must have hated not having the options. If she saw Lee again, she’d have to ask him how Cate managed without them.

After a while, Master emerged from his study. Nicole looked across at him nervously, and he just smiled.

“Master?”

“Let me start out with the important question, sweetheart,” he said. “Are you happy being a doll?”

“Oh yes,” she agreed automatically. Her smile was hesitant, uncertain.

“Are you happy being my doll?”

“Yes, Master,” she replied. Nicole didn’t want him to doubt that for even a moment.

“That’s really what matters to me,” he said softly. “Watch one of those videos a day,” he went on. “And when you think you have questions for me,” his voice slipped back into those familiar hypnotic tones she loved it so much when he used, and his eyes sought out hers, locking on so that she couldn’t look away. “When you think you have questions for me,” he said again, cementing the idea in her mind, making it a duty so it would be instinctively remembered, “remember them, and ask me when you get the chance.”

“Yes, Master,” Nicole said again. She hesitated, unsure how to ask what she wanted to ask.

Master kissed her, and Nicole almost completely forgot her doubts. “I think you’re going to end up happy,” he said gently. “But if I tell you to be, the part of you worrying is going to continue to worry.”

Nicole wasn’t sure how to answer that. She nodded.

*

“I really don’t know,” Screen-Nicole said. She wasn’t so upright in her chair in this video; she’d slumped. Looked dejected. Was barely looking at the camera. Nicole’s heart went out to her.

“I shouldn’t even be considering this. Not really. But…” She sighed. “I’ve had just such a shitty fucking week, you know?” She looked up at the camera properly and there was the telltale glint in her eyes. Like she’d cried earlier, and was about to again, and she really didn’t want to be seen crying on camera but couldn’t stop it.

“Rick reckons he can make me feel happy. And honestly, if that’s all he’s going to do? He’s welcome to try.

“I’m recording this so I have a reminder tomorrow after he’s done it. I still think the whole thing’s weird, but I’ve been very clear on what’s allowed and what isn’t. And I’m pretty sure Rick will respect my boundaries.” She laughed abruptly, but the tone was harsh. No real humour to it at all. “And isn’t that just more bullshit? That I have to actually say I think my boyfriend will respect my boundaries?”

She bit her lip. “This whole thing is still pretty suspicious,” she said. “But I’m willing to try.”

The video ended, a much shorter clip than most. Nicole wondered if she should ask any questions of Master, but decided not to. This one felt a lot like the questions would be answered more by the next video instead.

*

Screen-Nicole was all smiles in the next video. “Pretty good week this week,” she began. “I mean, school’s fine but the internship is in the toilet. Everything at work has been crappy. I just still feel pretty good.” She paused, mouth open, visibly collecting her thoughts. “I think that’s down to Rick,” she said slowly.

“No. I know it’s down to Rick. The whole thing with being hypnotised…” She smiled. “That’s great. It feels really fun. And we actually did some stuff with him telling me what to do and me doing it. And when I, uh, obey,” and she blushed crimson, “as he calls it, it feels really good. Because he’s told me it does.” She shifted in her seat. “It just turns out I, um, really believe him.

“I’m still not exactly interested in just giving up my plans. But I’m definitely going to let him play a bit more. And honestly? You should see how happy it’s making him. He’s so cute like this.”

Nicole thought of her Master watching this video a couple of days before. How must he have reacted to that comment?

She was definitely going to ask him about that side of things…

*

A few weeks later, Nicole paused the video she was watching midway through. She got up and went into the doll room to get changed and ready ahead of Master’s return. Lakeisha was handling the kitchen duties that day, so Nicole had a little free time, which she wasn’t particularly used to. She took her time in the wardrobes, eventually opting for a pair of white faux-leather hotpants over white fishnet tights, white Doc Martens and a white leather corset. Her lipstick and eyeshadow were picked out in a soft silver, her long hair gathered into two bunches in the style that made Master keenest to fuck her mouth.

She picked out a white collar to go with it and made her way down to await Master’s return home, where she and Lakeisha met him in the doorway. Lakeisha held his drink and took his messenger bag; Nicole knelt beside her, head bowed, holding up her collar in both hands as an offering.

Master ignored his drink for the moment and, instead, took the collar from Nicole’s hands. With great ceremony he set it against her throat and reached behind her neck to fasten it in place. Acknowledging her submission - and acknowledging her decision to show it.

“Wait here until you’re called,” he told Lakeisha, who demurely answered “Yes, sir.”

Master then stepped past them both, moving into the living room with his drink. Nicole followed him.

Master hadn’t sat as he usually did. He was stood by the bookshelf facing the door. Waiting for her.

“You have a question for me, finally?” he asked, and Nicole nodded obediently.

“Ask,” he instructed. It was now her duty to obey, which made it feel even better when she spoke.

“Did I decide I wanted what you wanted?” she asked.

“You mean, to become a doll?”

Nicole nodded.

“Eventually,” Master said, “yes. But it took a long time. An afternoon spent in trance, then one spent obedient. Then a day. Then a weekend. A while later, a week when you cashed in some days off.

“We were both looking at it as a part time thing. For all I talked a big game, I didn’t really think I could cope with something permanent. But…” He took a sip from his drink. “Little by little, you were looking to spend more and more time in doll mode. And I started to think maybe I could cope.” A half-smile. “And then I got promoted at work, and we could afford to live on one income. Really that was the tipping point.”

Nicole nodded. She could feel the tears in her eyes, just as Screen-Nicole had had. She didn’t want to be seen crying either. But she was happy, and she couldn’t help it.

“I still think if you’d stuck to your original plan, you’d be making more money than me,” Master said. “I totally believe you could do that job. You just… by the end of it, you just didn’t want to. There were people in your firm dedicated to making you feel like shit. You could have gone somewhere else, but it meant starting from the bottom again. And the risk of more like them.”

“I don’t remember them,” she said quietly.

“I’ll let you,” he said. “Just for this evening. Or if you really want to remember them afterward, you can. But I don’t think you’ll want to.”

Nicole felt a tear run down her cheek. Still she wasn’t upset, wasn’t unhappy. She just hadn’t realised a doll could be overwhelmed until she actually was.

“You were afraid I might think you were weak, at the time,” Master said softly. “It was very important to you that I didn’t. And I don’t.” He smiled. “Not everyone has the option of becoming a doll. It’s not weak to embrace something you want, just because it wasn’t in the plan. Understand?”

She nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good,” he said quietly. “Perhaps… would you like a day or two of ‘doll detox’? Lakeisha can keep the house, and you can remember clearly who you were and why you made your choices. And we can think about how to make sure you’re not worried about it again.”

Nicole considered it for a moment, but she shook her head. “No, Master,” she said. “I want you to enjoy your doll.”

He smiled, wide and warm and… relieved?

“Good doll,” he said.