I, of course, already know what she’ll be wearing. I had the piece made specifically for her weeks ago so I could be sure it would be ready on time. But already my little doll is fidgeting on her strand, trying to find a way to wiggle free, and I’m enjoying the show far too much to end it so soon.
The upper horseshoe puts her arms at too odd an angle for her to grab the middle bar and twist it free. It’s also too high for her to easily lift her arms over it. As she twists and turns in her bonds, her breasts jiggle, and my cock hardens at the sight of her pretty pink nipples bouncing with every futile movement.
Unfortunately for me, we really do need to get a move on so we don’t keep our guests waiting. Reaching around the doll stand, I give Isabella a hard swat to her bottom that settles her instantly. Her bottom lip puffs out in that same pout from earlier, and I can’t resist the urge to lean in and press a kiss to her sulky mouth.
“Are you ready to be a good little doll for me, Isabella?” I murmur against her lips. “Or do I need to put some more red in those bottom cheeks for you to listen?”
Eyes wide, she sucks in a sharp breath. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”
“That isn’t exactly what I asked. I asked if you’re going to be my good little doll. What do dolls do, while they’re waiting for their owners to dress them?”
Confusion flits across her face. “Um. Nothing?”
“Exactly. I want you to stand here, perfectly still, and wait for Daddy to get you ready for dinner with our family. Can you do that for me, little one?”
“Y-yes, Daddy.”
“Good girl. I’ll be right back with a diaper and your dress.”
Diapering her is much easier on the changing table, but dressing my little doll completely while she’s trapped in the stand has been a fantasy of mine even since before I met Isabella. And now, it’s finally a fantasy I’ll get to live out.
I grab a diaper from the bedroom and return to the closet. On her stand, Isabella remains perfectly still, her eyes focused on some spot above my head as I bend down to pull the diaper up between her legs, fastening it in place around her hips. Stepping back, I admire my work, pulling my phone out of my pocket for a few quick pictures.
If Isabella is bothered at all by the pictures, she doesn’t say. Doesn’t even react.
Perfect.
With her diaper in place, I move to the rack at the end of the closet, the section I’ve set aside for her “special occasion” dresses. While all of her outfits are full of tulle and ruffles, these are even more so. Layers and layers of ruffles and lace puff out from the waist, with full sleeves in the same material at the top.
The one I choose for tonight is a pale-green silk, with white lace and tulle accents. It’s a perfect replica of an actual doll’s dress I’ve kept a picture of in my phone for years. Solene outdid herself with this one.
Back at the stand, I lift one of Isabella’s arms and work it through the sleeve, followed by her other arm and then her head through the center hole. I have to pull the middle bar away from her stomach in order to pull the dress down, but once I’ve arranged the layers of material exactly to my liking, I wrap the metal bar around her waist once again.
She really does look like a living, breathing doll, put on display for my enjoyment. I may have to see about having the stand brought down to my office so I can display her there during the day. Not the entire day, of course. Little girls need time to play and nap. But a few stretches here and there won’t hurt her.
Frilly socks and a pair of white Mary Janes complete my little doll’s transformation, and I give myself a few minutes to admire how perfect she looks before snapping a few final pictures.
“All right, little doll. Time for dinner. Our family is eager to welcome you into the fold.”
ChapterEighteen
Isabella
Eager to welcome me? I’ve already met everyone, haven’t I? Even spent time with my new uncles and their Little ones. How much more “welcoming” could they possibly need to do?
But I don’t voice my questions as Daddy releases me from the doll stand and takes my hand. Because good little dolls don’t ask questions. They don’t eventhinkquestions.
It terrifies me that there’s something almost soothing about that. About being reduced to nothing more than a thing for Daddy’s pleasure. An object with no thoughts, no worries, no stress. Waiting for him to dress me, I’d been panicked at first when I realized I couldn’t move but once he told me what he expected of me, it had become horrifyingly easy to simply empty my mind and… be.
I may not be a principal ballerina, but I’m a damn good dancer. I have dreams, hopes, ambitions. Am I really throwing all that away for a life as someone’s china doll?
No. No, I’m not. I’m just going along until he trusts me enough to give me the space I need to escape. Just like I’ve planned from the beginning.
Which, for tonight, means smiling for my uncles and my Auntie Cat. Playing with my friends. Being the most charming Little girl anyone on this island has ever seen, so that theyallbelieve I’ve fallen for Daddy’s bullshit, hook, line, and sinker.
With that in mind, I plaster what I hope passes for a warm smile on my face as we make our way downstairs. Voices and laughter greet us as we step onto the marble floor of the entryway, and Daddy heads toward the happy sounds, which turn out to be coming from a room I’ve never seen.
Uncle Max and Uncle Jasper sit side by side on a large, comfortable looking couch with Auntie Cat and a man I don’t recognize on a loveseat across from them, while Tori and Juju play at their feet. My friends are wearing dresses that seem more formal than their regular, everyday dresses, but still aren’t quite as…poofyas mine. Each wears a tiara, the jewels perfectly matching the colors in their dresses, and jealousy stabs at me.
