Presents
by TinySexyGirl
"You're sure this is going to work?" For the twentieth time Wendy was uncertain about what her friend Donna was going to do for her.
For her part Donna was getting tired of Wendy being worried about something fucking up. "Look, I've told you, there's nothing to worry about." She sat next to her friend and took them hands in hers. "I've researched this extensively. This artifact is suppose to take the desires of the person holding it and grants them the ability to change things. I'm telling you, if this is done right there's nothing to worry about."
There's the catch," said Wendy. "If it's done right."
"Well, I'm going to be doing it, and so . . ." She let go of Wendy's hands. "If you don't trust me, fine. Then we'll--"
"I do, I do!" Wendy couldn't help but worry. It was her nature. "It's just that I don't want to get stuck, okay?"
"You won't get stuck," said Donna. "I've got it figured out."
"Yeah? How?"
"Part of this transformation is that you'll end up a gift for my niece," said Donna. "I'll fix the spell so that one month after she starts playing with you, you'll transform right back to yourself, right back here in the living room."
"Won't your niece notice the doll missing?"
Donna shook her head. "Naw. You'll be replaced by a real doll." She grinned broadly. "Trust me. I got this figured out." She saw that Wendy was less than confident that Donna could pull this off. "You wanna live out your doll fantasy, don't you?"
"Yeah . . ." Of course Wendy did. But she had reservations--particularly where Wendy was concerned. As good a friend as Donna was, Wendy thought she was a little flaky-- and not a little out of her mind. Though probably not any stranger than a girl who wants to be a doll for a month or so, Wendy thought. "Yeah, I wanna do this."
"And I know my niece will play with you," Donna said. "She's nuts about dolls. You should see her collection."
"I trust you." Wendy had heard about Donna's 14-year-old niece Andrea and her doll collection for years.
"Great!" Donna pulled the artifact --which looked like nothing more than a simple white oval stone-- from out of a box. "So . . . all I gotta do is hold this and think about what I want you to be, and you'll be it."
"And you know what I want to be, don't you?"
"Sure," Donna said. "One of those Bratz dolls, right?"
Wendy nodded. "You got it. And make me special for your niece, okay?"
"You got it." Donna started to concentrate. She had this image in her head of Wendy becoming a Bratz and being very, very special for her niece. It didn't take long before a glow started to appear around Wendy, who was looking at her arms and legs with astonishment. The glow brightened . . . became almost blinding.
And with a flash Wendy was gone.
Donna almost couldn't believe it. She had been told that this stone would work magic, but to be honest she hadn't actually believed Wendy was going to turn into a doll. But since she wasn't sitting here in Donna's living room, Donna had to believe that things had gone just as planned.
And that Donna's niece was going to be getting an extra special Christmas present.
January came and went, and Donna was a little surprised when Wendy didn't magically pop back into her living room. Well, no big deal, she thought. It was possible that her niece hadn't gotten around to playing with Wendy yet, and the girl was still "dollified". Donna figured Wendy should be popping up soon.
But February came and went, and so did March, and suddenly it was April and no Wendy. Donna started to get worried. She knew that the spell had been set to change Wendy back, so there was nothing wrong there. But something had to be wrong; Donna knew it. The problem was her niece Andrea lived in Portland, OR, and Donna lived in Baltimore, and so going and visiting Andrea wasn't as easy as hopping in the car and scooting across town.
Or was there?
Donna still had the stone. Since turning Wendy into a doll she'd checked to see if it's magic could be used on her, and much to her pleasure Donna now had radiant blond hair and a very nice, full 36 D cup set of breasts. Of course there had also been that time she'd turned herself into a copy of Ashlee Simpson and went dancing and ended up fucking a couple of guys, but . . . well, best not to remember that incident.
Anyway, Donna figured she could wish to be standing outside her niece's house, even if it was in Portland, and she could do it now--
And suddenly, she was there.
She looked around. There was no one on the street besides her. Donna looked at the house, then at her watch. She was on Eastern time, and her watch said 1:37. That would be PM for her, meaning it was three hours earlier here. Her niece would be at school, and her sister at work, and no one would be home. Perfect. Now all she needed to do was get inside the house--
And just that, she was in.
This teleporting shit is really great, Donna thought. But teleporting around Portland wasn't why she was here. She turned and made her way to her niece's room.
It had been a few years since she'd seen Andrea's collection. The girl had been into dolls for years, and while Donna didn't know the exact number, just by looking at what she had lying about on display in her room, the number had to be close to 75. Finding Wendy might be--
Then one doll in particular caught Donna's eye.
There were a few dolls that were on their own shelf, set aside from the others. Donna examined them and saw that they were "special dolls", collectable versions that were pretty much one of a kind. And there, standing in the middle of all the dolls, was a two foot tall Megan Bratz doll, her certificate of authenticity lying before her feet.
Donna remembered Wendy wanted to be a "special" doll. And how much more special could one get than this?
That would explain why Wendy didn't come back as expected. Being a one of a kind doll, Amanda would put her on display rather than actually play with her. Ergo, that's why it was April and Wendy was still here, still a doll.
Donna moved in to give Wendy/Megan a closer look. "Damn, girl, how you been?" she whispered. "Betcha never thought you were gonna end up on Amanda's shelf for four months, did ya?" She reached out to pick up Wendy, then remembered the stone which she's put in the pocket of her jeans. She pulled it out and made her wish . . ..
In moments the Wendy/Megan doll began to blink, then stretched and yawned. "Donna!" the doll said in a small voice not unlike Wendy's. "You're here!"
"Yeah." She stepped back, smiling. "I got a little worried--"
"When I didn't reappear?" Wendy stepped off her support. "Goddamn, what a trip!" She ran her hands down her curvy sides. "When I asked to make me special, you didn't fuck around, did you?"
"Don't get much more special that how you are now," she replied. "What's it been like?"
"What's what been like?"
"Being . . ." Donna swallowed hard. "You know-- being a doll?"
Wendy walked to the edge of the shelf and sat. "Don't worry," Wendy said when she saw Donna's panicked look. "I'm made of plastic; I'm not gonna get hurt if I fall." She crossed her legs. "It's sorta what I thought it was gonna be like-- without the being played with part, of course."
"I didn't know that was going to happen."
"I know. It's not your fault." Wendy's huge lips turned up into a smile. "You know Amanda really loves me."
"She loves the Megan doll you are," said Donna, correcting her friend. "Isn't that what you mean?"
"No, I mean she loves me," said Wendy, almost snorting the words out. "I mean, yeah, I'm Megan, but Amanda loves me. She's told me so many times."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah. She looks at me a lot. Sometimes when she's laying on the bed at night she talks to me, tells me about her day. A few times she's taken me down a couple of times and held me and told me how beautiful and stylish I am, and how she wishes she could be one of my friends . . . you know, I do believe she has something of a doll fetish herself."
"Oh, yeah. She looks at me a lot. Sometimes when she's laying on the bed at night she talks to me, tells me about her day. A few times she's taken me down a couple of times and held me and told me how beautiful and stylish I am and how she wishes she could be one of my friends . . . you know, I do believe she has something of a doll fetish herself."
"Uh . . . no. I didn't know that." Donna wasn't diggin' how this conversation was coming out. She'd figured the first thing Wendy would have said was "Change me back!" but that hadn't happened yet. And now she was saying stuff about Amanda-- "You don't really know that--"
"A doll knows her owner better than anyone else."
Now this was getting a little weird for Donna's taste. "Okay, hold it. You're not a doll, Wendy. You're a person. Okay?"
Wendy laughed. "Who's the one sitting on a shelf, then?"
"That's because you had me turn you into a doll!"
Wendy leaned forward. "Which means I'm a doll, okay!" She re-crossed her arms and folded her arms over her chest. "Jeez, whadda I got to do to convince you?"
"Nothing, okay. It's just that . . ." Donna looked away for a moment, then back. "I figured you'd wanna be changed back like five minutes ago." She sat down on Amanda's bed. "Instead you're actin'--"
"Like a doll?"
"Yeah."
Wendy shrugged. "I guess I'm not upset, or begin' to be changed back, 'cause I like how I am." She ignored Donna's shocked look. "I mean, right after I realized that Amanda wasn't going to play with me and there was a chance I'd be stuck like this, I sorta freaked, but after a few days of Amanda treating me so nice and giving me such a wonderful place to be seen, I guess . . . well, I realized this is what a doll does, and this is what I fantasized about, and so . . . I ended up not only not caring about changing back, but even liking who I was."
Donna shook her head. She really couldn't believe Wendy was saying this to her. "That's freaky."
"That's what I am."
"You know," said Donna, sighing, "if I don't change you back, you might be stuck like that forever."
"So?" Wendy giggled. "You don't think that hasn't crossed my mind?"
"And?"
"I could think of worse ways to live my life." She stood up and brushed herself off. "If you wanna change me back, you can. I can't stop you." Wendy posed with her legs spread, her head up, looking all the world to Donna like a fashion doll waiting to be displayed. "But if you change me back, I'll only wanna be changed into a doll. And one of these days I'll get hold of your stone and do it."
"You'd change yourself back?"
"Uh, huh." She winked. "And Amanda, too. I know she would love to see what this is like."
Donna stood. In just the short time she was here she knew she'd lost her best friend. Yeah, she could change her back, but like Wendy said she'd just keep wanting this, and eventually she'd get it. "So you want me to leave you as you are?"
"If you would." Wendy stepped up onto her display. "With maybe . . . a couple of small changes?"
Ten Years Later--
"And you're sure she wanted me to have her collection?"
Donna could almost hear her sister Peg's head nodding over the phone. "That's what she wrote down, that she wanted you to have her entire collection."
"Can't understand that," said Donna.
"Well, I guess she figured you'd want it more than I would," replied Peg. "What I can't understand is why she's giving it up. She's had them--"
"For years, I know." Donna didn't speak to her sister often, and it was usually all she could do to keep from cringing any time Peg spoke in her squeaky "Bimbo on the Make"-like voice. "What's Amanda up to these days?"
"Oh . . . working." The fact that it took Peg that long to think up an answer said that it was likely Peg hadn't spoken to Amanda in a few years. There'd been a huge blow out between them right after Amanda left to pursue her dream of being a fashion designer, and relations between her and her mother had been frosty ever since.
Not that it was ever a great loss, Donna thought right after she said her good-byes to her sister and hung up. Amanda was a lot brighter than Peg, and the fact that she wanted to try something she knew she'd like instead of something her mother wanted her to do spoke volumes about her character.
Donna was sorry she'd not kept in touch with Amanda more. The last time she saw her was not long after she'd moved to New York for fashion school, and she'd come down and stayed at her place for a couple of days. They'd talked and hung out and even went clubbing one night. It's been a great time.
Donna had wanted so badly to ask her about Wendy. But she never did.
And now, all these years later, Amanda was sending Donna her famous doll collection.
The why of it all wasn't coming. Amanda's collection had grown to about 200 dolls, and Peg had theorized that Amanda had simply run out of room in whatever cockroach-infested shithole she was living in and needed somewhere nice to keep them. Donna didn't mind. Anything to help out her niece.
Donna began sorting the boxes out. There was one in particular she was looking for. She was pretty sure Amanda would have labeled it, since everything else seemed to be labeled . . ..
And there it was: "Special Dolls--Display Only."
That was the box she was looking for.
She opened it and started removing the carefully wrapped dolls. She put them on her corner-fireplace mantel one by one, looking for one in particular--
Donna finally found it. "There you are," she said, putting the collectable Megan doll on the mantle. "How you doin', Wendy."
The doll turned and glared. "It's Megan," she said. "I ain't went by that in since like-- Gawd, who knows?" She stepped off her support. "How's it hangin'?"
"Good." Donna smiled, seeing her friend again for the first time in ten years. "Enjoy being a Bratz?"
"You fuckin' know it. Besides, what else would I ever wanna be?"
"Just what you are, I guess." Sitting in a nearby chair, Donna asked, "Why did Amanda give me her collection?"
"Why don't you ask me?" a Sasha figurine said, its head turning to look in Donna's direction.
"A--Amanda?" a shocked Donna stuttered.
"Sasha, baby, Sasha," the figurine said, stepping off its stand. "How you doin', Aunt Donna?"
It took all of Donna's will to answer. "I'm, ah . . . doing . . . Amanda! You're a doll?"
"Figurine, actually," she answered, "but I've been a doll plenty of times." She shook her hair, letting it fall into place. "No need to be shocked, okay? Megan had me from go, you know?"
Donna nodded. "You had the same doll fetish? Like her?"
"Big time," said Amanda. "By the way, thanks for fixin' things so she could change me like this. It's been . . . well, totally hot, you know?"
"Yeah . . . I guess so." Knowing that her niece was now a doll --uh, figurine-- was even more of a shock to Donna than when she'd turned Wendy into a doll the first time. "So, the question remains: why me, and why your collection."
Amanda/Sasha smiled. "'Cause I was getting lonely for ya," she said. "I'm workin' free-lance in NYC these days-- mostly making clothing for dolls, if you didn't know. No big surprise, huh? Anyways, like I said . . . I was getting lonely for family. Now, like, Megan's my BFF, you know, but since I spilt from Mom it's been like-- no contact with anyone.
"Now, truth be known, I spend most of my time like this. Well not quite like this. Megan--" Suddenly both dolls started growing. When they were both about three feet tall they leapt off the mantle onto the floor. In a few seconds they were life-sized versions of the smaller figures. "More like this, you know?"
"You guys can be life-sized???"
"Sure," said Megan. "It only took a little thinkin' about how to work with what I'd asked for the last time, and . . . well, shit, here it is."
"I can see that," said Donna.
Amanda cleared her throat. "Getting back to where I was . . . I talked this over with Megan, and we decided that I can do what I do now --designing doll clothes-- and I can shoot up to the Apple when I need to-- in my other self, course-- but for the rest of that time--" She put her arm around Donna's waist and pulled her tight. "Both of us wanted to spend our time being with the person who got us . . . here."
"I'm . . . honored," said Donna, at a loss for words. "I suppose I should say I'm happy to see you both--"
"You should," said Megan.
"But seeing you both like this . . . particularly you, Amanda." Donna stepped back a little to take her in. "Being black and all."
Amanda laughed. "It's like they say, baby: once you go black, you can't go back."
Donna began walking toward the kitchen. "You guys want something to drink? No, of course not. Dolls don't drink, do they?"
"Only when we're human," said Amanda. "Or when I am, I should say."
Donna nodded. "Right. So, what do you guys . . . wanna do?"
Amanda tilted her head to one side. "I was thinkin' of doin' some work."
"Work?" Donna smiled. "You just got here."
"Right. And I need to unpack . . . and I need to work."
"I can do the unpacking," said Megan.
"And you can help with work, Auntie Donna," said Amanda.
"How am I gonna help with work? I thought you said you only design doll clothing?"
Amanda nodded. "That's right. I got a contract for a half-dozen Barbie My Scene outfits that I gotta deliver in four months, and I'm running behind."
"So what do you want me to do?" asked Donna. "Go get the material you need?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of modeling," said Amanda.
Before Donna could say a word she felt her body changing. Not so
much in terms of her breasts getting bigger or her hips growing or
anything like that. No, it was more like her neck stretching and her
limbs getting longer and thinner . . . and her skin turning into
something that was very much like plastic. No, dummy, she thought, it IS plastic!
It was over in seconds. A moment before a real-life Donna had been standing to one side of her living room. Now, in her place, was a girl who looked like nothing more than a living Barbie doll. "What the fuck did you do to me?" Donna screamed.
Megan started looking around the room as if nothing interesting had happened. "Oh, I just used a little of the ability you gave me," she said. "You know: the one where I can change people."
"You were only suppose to be able to change Amanda!"
Megan feigned surprise. "Oops! My mistake!"
"But--!" Donna gave herself a good looking over. "I'm a Barbie doll! A goddamn Barbie doll!"
"And a very beautiful one at that," Megan said, sliding her hand up under Donna's skirt. She began rubbing her plastic ass.
"But I don't wanna be--"
"Barbie Freeze!" yelled Megan. Donna instantly froze, unable to move or speak, a beautiful 5' 6" My Scene Barbie looking like she was ready to hit the malls.
Amanda nodded to Megan. "Thanks. I wasn't sure she was gonna freak--"
"I kinda figured she would," answered Megan. "It's no big deal. As soon as I find that stone--"
"You'll be able to change her mind."
"Got it." Megan headed towards the bedrooms.
Amanda moved closer to her aunt, who was screaming in her head to be freed. "Don't worry, Aunt Donna," she said. "Once Megan finds that stone we'll change your mind so you'll like this . . . and believe me, the time will come when you can't imagine how you ever could have lived not being a Barbie girl."