The Doll Store by IronicallyTall

James walked to the dotted line. This was it. He didn’t have much choice. He had lost his position at the textile factory working with microfiber. That was three weeks ago. Thankfully, there were alternatives. A recent government program allowed any smaller individuals to apply for the toy service. It was a little demeaning but the more James thought of it the more he liked the idea. He could just spend his days being taken care of, instead of toiling away.

He lifted the pen, almost half as tall as he was. The notary watched without help, and his signature was required on the normal-sized document. She seemed to be in her thirties, with a professional women’s suit and well-manicured short nails. She wore large glasses with a beaded reading strap swung around behind her neck.

“Really sorry, it’s just we need it to be on the official sheets as well,” she apologized again.

“No,” he said with a smile, “that’s fine.”

He maneuvered the pen to the paper, not terribly heavy but just a little awkward. The whole sheet was about as wide as he was tall. He tried to mimic his regular signature as best he could at this scale but it came out rather squiggly.

“That’s good enough, honey. I’ll date it for you,” the notary said as she reached over to him.

Before James could react she took the pen from him and scribbled on the paper, writing upside down in a practiced flourish. She gently grasped him around the midsection, lifting him just a little, then slid the small stack of papers out from under him. She held the paper in front of him, and he had to look up to see the top.

“Does everything look correct?”

NAME: James Hearton

HEIGHT: 8.2”

AGE: 22 years

DOB: 22 May 2076

OCCUPATION: Textiles

Doll Program Entry

The rest of the document was mostly legal jargon, with his and the notary’s signature at the bottom. There were more than a dozen clauses, enumerating the rights he was signing away. Thankfully, there were equal protections for his wellbeing. He was going to become a little bit less than a person, but not quite an object. In some parts of the world, dolls were revered and worshipped. Around these cities, they were mostly just collectibles.

To James, the difference didn’t matter much. He was already barely taller than the average person’s hand. His life, like most of the reduced individuals, was frustrating, to say the least. It wasn’t hard to earn enough food to eat working at a factory but the work was menial. He hated weaving the fibers and assembling electronics. Perhaps this change would be a better way to live.

“Looks OK to me.”

“Good. Give me just a moment to finalize everything.”

The woman stamped a few pages and signed a few more. Her eyes carefully checked and re-checked every page. James looked around at the Reduced Person’s Reassignment Office, his last views of the world as a free man. It wasn’t much to look at, he wasn’t even sad about it. He was ready.

“You’re all set then. Welcome to the Doll program, James. Now, hold still.”

The woman placed the stack of papers in a big file and placed that on a stack of other similar files. The doll business seemed to be booming. Then she pinched him around the middle again, a sensation James imagined he would need to get used to. She turned him around and tugged at his shoes. Then his socks. Then she started to tug on his pants.

“Hey! What’s the idea?”

“It’s just procedure. You’re government property until we find you a new owner. Just relax.”

James tried to relax but was quite embarrassed. She stripped him down to nothing, her eyes never lost their uncaring mundane attention. She treated him like paperwork, and tossed his clothes into the bin. Thankfully she did not waste time, holding him by his midsection carefully and with a gentle touch. 

“Quick disinfectant spray, close your eyes.” She said as she reached into a drawer.

James complied, closing his eyes as she sprayed him with something. It was cool on his skin and smelled a little like lavender. James was worried this was going to be a terrible process but it actually wasn’t so bad. He started to relax, and just let her do her work.

Before he could open his eyes, she pulled some clothes onto him with rapid efficiency. He struggled at first but found the material warm and soft, like the microfibers he used to work with. He was almost sure he might have made stuff like this.

He opened his eyes and was thankful to no longer be naked, a simple light blue jumpsuit covered everything. It was a bit strange not having regular clothes, he felt like he was a motion-capture actor or something. She still held him with her delicate fingers, gentle but impersonal.

“There are two days rations in your box, but someone should purchase you before then. Do you have any questions before I pack you?” She wasn’t even looking at him; still focused on paperwork and reading from a script. She held a box in her other hand.

James tried to think of something, but could not. What more was there to ask? He didn’t have much choice in whatever happened next.

“Just, uh, thanks I guess.”

“Sure thing, honey.”

The woman placed him gently into the tall cardboard box. Sure enough, there were two small compartments for food and tiny bottled water. There was a window on one side that was oval-shaped and made from plastic. She sealed him inside and he could hear the sound of tape rolling across the opening. It was barely big enough to stand in, and not quite big enough to lay down. James looked at the large words printed across the inside:

Thank you for your purchase! Refer to the manual if you have any questions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

James was fascinated to see the inner workings of the government as his parcel was passed through various departments. Each time, he was handled with care, and he even occasionally saw another doll being shipped out. He wasn’t terribly hungry but munched on the in-flight meal anyway. It was the nutrient-rich protein bars they sent to disaster areas. Better than nothing, James thought.

Before long, he was placed on a pallet. Then a truck. Then a shelf. All within the span of a few hours. He was already at the Doll store. James was surprised, knowing full well how long government processes took when he applied for their assistance. Finally, a system worked.

Several women were browsing the aisles. He leaned into the window and could see them as they walked by. There were small outfits and accessories on the wall opposite his view. He couldn’t see other small folk but he realized he must be on a shelf with many others. He felt a little odd, unsure if he was supposed to be smiling in the window or something. 

A woman appeared on his left, carefully walking down the aisle. She was shopping for dolls, and carefully reading each box. James could only see her from the knee down. She was wearing a black crochet dress with grey tights underneath and large chunky black boots. 

“Anthony? Are you in there?” James could hear her voice, then a gentle tapping on plastic.

The woman moved to another box. James could see her face now, her quizzical expression framed by dark brown hair. She seemed frustrated, and a little nervous. She was reading the labels of the boxes and clearly frustrated not finding what she was looking for. She wore a thrift store jacket, clearly too big for her and from another decade. She looked to be in her twenties.

“James.”

The woman stopped at his box, she was bending down to be able to see him, her eyes checking him out like a book on a shelf. James thought to say something but nothing came out. She was really pretty, and she tried to smile but was clearly too nervous.

“Says here you know how to work with fabric?”

James managed to nod, smiling in realizing he wouldn’t need to be cooped up in here any longer if he was purchased on his first day.

“I… I guess I was kinda looking for someone to chat with while I crochet.”

“That sounds nice!” James said from the other side of the plastic.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you. This is so weird. I’m Emma. Do you… wanna be my doll?” She grimaced a little as she asked it.

James nodded again, smiling and the woman’s face soon returned the smile. She looked embarrassed and unsure of herself. She looked around the store.

“I can’t believe I said that,” she whispered, “Alright then.”

The woman stood, and the box holding James shifted. She easily lifted him from the shelf and carried him to the counter. He could no longer see her, only where she was walking.

“Find everything you liked?” The clerk said

“Yeah, I... I think so. Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emma’s apartment was filled with trinkets and baubles. James looked in wonder at her various collectibles and figures, thankful not to see any small folk. The people who collected them had a bit of a reputation. Emma placed the box on a table, moving aside her laptop and some papers to make room. James came to a rest viewing her humble living room. It was a little cramped for a normal person but quiet and cozy. He was a little apprehensive, not knowing what a single woman who likes to craft would want with a doll.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I think I… should read your manual before, uh, opening you?” She peered into the window, her hair cascading around his view as she spoke. James merely gave a thumbs up.

Emma disappeared behind him and clattered around the kitchen. When she reappeared, she had doffed her large coat and removed her boots. Her nylon feet thudded along the carpet as she tidied things a little near a large red armchair. A few books occupied an ottoman nearby, which she moved to another room. James noted there were only two other rooms, the bathroom and likely a bedroom.

“Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting to find one. Find someone? Is that right?” She seemed mostly to be talking to herself.

She cleared the seat and suddenly a high-pitched whistle emanated from behind James’ field of view. He ducked, unsure of what to expect from this strange house. Emma walked awkwardly to the kitchen, hyper-aware that James was watching everything. The high pitch ended, and James recalled seeing something on television a long time ago. The big ones made tea with water, and their kettles made that noise. It wasn’t something small folk really did.

“Ah, that’s better,” Emma said as she sat down in the armchair, nylon feet propped up on the ottoman. She set a small teacup on the nightstand nearby and held a small booklet in her other hand. It featured a small person smiling and waving inside a box.

James wondered feverishly what the manual could possibly say about him. What would they even write? He was just some guy… There wasn’t much to tell. It wasn’t like they asked him any questions about himself. Whatever was in there surely wasn’t terribly useful. He watched her read, and she occasionally looked up at him while she sipped her tea. A few times she laughed, and other times she blushed. James couldn’t get enough of her facial expressions.

“Says here I can do whatever I like. Pretty much, anyway. I guess.” Emma blinked, not looking up. She was nearing the end of the booklet.

James hoped this wasn’t a mistake. Everything started closing in, he felt like he signed his life away. Was this really better than weaving microfiber? His jumpsuit was beginning to get hot.

“Alllll right. I think that’s all.” Emma said and closed the booklet. She shifted in her seat and simply drank her tea while she eyed the box. James felt strange, being watched so intently.

Emma finished her tea, and walked to the table. James felt electric, this was all so strange. Earlier today he was just walking around the street on the smallfolk sidewalks. Now he was unlikely to leave this apartment.

The top of the box rattled as Emma tore into it. Light poured in from above and James saw her standing over him, looking in. Her face was hesitant curiosity. Once she’d pried open the top she just stood there, blinking.

“You’re really just a little guy, huh? Weird.” Her voice was a low whisper, addressed just to herself.

“Yeah, I guess so?” James offered.

“Shit. Sorry.” Emma jumped a little, rocking the box. “I knew you could talk but it was still kinda… strange. Sorry.” She laughed nervously.

“It’s OK, this is kinda weird for me too.” James scratched the back of his head and offered a reassuring smile.

“Is it OK if I… Well. Hold on.” She quickly disappeared, and James watched her walk to the other end of the room where she’d left the booklet. She picked it up and returned, reading from somewhere near the beginning. Her movements were jerky and erratic, like a squirrel but even larger.

“OK. OK.” She drew in a deep breath, “Welcome to my home,” She recited a passage from the book but stopped to look at the box, “James. Sorry. You are safe here but you must do as I say. Now please remain still.”

With that, she put the booklet on the table and reached inside the box. Her slender hand was delicate, her nails were well-kept and natural. James tried not to recoil, a natural instinct he’d acquired from years underfoot. She stopped just shy of touching him, and hesitated. James looked into her eyes, she was unsure of herself. Slowly and delicately, she pinched him around the midsection between her thumb on his chest and three fingers on his back.

James was freed from the box, and the room was suddenly quite large. The air smelled sweet, if a little humid. Then he felt her breath, fast and halting. She was smiling with tight lips, concentrating on moving him extremely slowly. She was pretty, but clearly had more time for books than worrying over her appearance. Her hair was mostly untamed and her face was free of makeup. James tried not to move but realized he was staring too.

“OK, this is pretty cool. I’ll have to make you something besides this jumpsuit, though.” She turned him around, grabbing his legs with her other hand and rotating him.

“So, uh, it’s nice to meet you?” James said, trying to sound nonchalant as she examined him. Her fingers were enormous and soft, and trembling just slightly.

Emma turned him back towards her, to face her. She looked like she was going to say something but just blushed instead. She smiled a little then flipped to another page in the booklet, reaching behind James.

“I’m not really… Sure what to do. With you, I guess. Sorry. This is just so strange. I’ve never picked one of you up before.”

Her fingers moved around him, poking and prodding like he was an action figure. She lifted his arms, moving them around and testing their feel. She squeezed his midsection, massaging in little circles.

“Let’s get you out of this.”

She suddenly jerked him over to the table, and James acted quickly to keep his feet under him before plopping down on the wood.

“Hey! Careful!” He shouted.

Emma’s brow furrowed, and she looked past him at the pamphlet. James turned to read what he was saying but she pinched his torso.

“Not for you to read, sorry. Hold on.” She said as she held him facing forward to her, “OK so I’ll be a little more gentle but you’re… not to raise your voice at me. Alright?” She asked without looking.

“Um, OK. Yeah.”

“Also, apologize to me.”

“OK OK, I’m sorry.”

Emma giggled, blushing slightly. She was still reading the booklet and her fingers left him. He stood there awkwardly, watching her read.

“Also, call… call me princess.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Says here you have to. Yeah.” She looked directly at him.

“Um. OK, I guess. Princess.”

Emma giggled again. This time she bit her lip and wiggled in her chair, barely containing her excitement.

“OK uh, James, I just wanted… to make sure you would follow orders. It told me. To make sure, that is. You, uh, can just call me Emma. If you like.”

“Oh, um, sure. Whatever works.”

“Ok. Good. Now, undress.”

“Right here?”

“Where else? I mean, yeah. Do it. Um, now?” She smiled as she tried to issue a command, clearly out of her element ordering him around. She stifled another laugh.

“OK, I guess. Can you at least turn around?”

“I mean…” Emma thought for a moment, “No? Like, it’s fine. It’s nothing I’ve not seen. Well, not miniature but still. You’re my doll and I get to see you naked if… Uh, If I want.” She said as an affirmation, seeming unsure.

“Emma. I’m still a person. What does that thing even say?” James turned to get a look.

“Na-uh.” Emma picked up the booklet and held it in front of him, obscuring her face. He watched her eyes scan the page before looking up at him over the top. “It says you’ll take off that jumpsuit. At least so I can measure you.”

James was defeated. He tried to accept that he had no more privacy. Well, he thought, it wouldn’t be the first woman seeing him naked today. This time was a little different. He wasn’t being processed in an uncaring system. Emma just wanted to see him for no other reason than she could. James sighed.

He started slipping his arms into the sleeves and shimmied the torso of the jumpsuit down to his hips. He stopped to look at his new owner, only seeing her eyes above the manual about how to use him. She was smiling, and he could detect just a little blush.

“Go on.” Her voice cracked.

James continued to slip off the garment, pulling it all the way down to his ankles and stepping out of it. He knew there was no point in hiding anything, he stood there naked on her table as he heard her breathing increase.

“Wow, everything is there. Wow.” She said in a dreamy tone.

James was blushing now. It was a little cold, and he wasn’t terribly proud of his assets. He looked away, trying to tell himself this was better than a life of hard labor. The booklet disappeared, and Emma tossed it onto the table again closed. James jumped a little.

Emma’s mouth hung open slightly, her eyes wide with curiosity. She took one pointer finger and caressed his chest, moving back and forth between his nipples before tracing downwards along his navel. James shivered and stepped back a little. Emma frowned.

“James. You’re my doll now. I get to… I get to play with you. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. I.. I promise.” Her voice was heavy and stuttering. Her eyes were locked onto his manhood.

James looked into her eyes. She seemed genuine. He took in a deep breath. This was just his life now. Maybe he needed to get used to it. Emma didn’t wait for it to sink in, she gently grabbed him as before, lifting him up. James was startled, flailing about a bit but her fingers were firm. Her eyes were wide, her face blushing as she held him close. He could feel the humid breath from her mouth as she passed his body under her nose. She smelled him, prodded him as two fingers cradled his butt.

“I’m going to touch you now, OK? Just… Just relax.” She seemed to be saying it to herself more than him.

James relaxed. Her thumb massaged his abs, and she let out a small ‘hmm’. Her thumb slid lower, shaking slightly as the pad of her finger moved across his crotch. She let out a high-pitched noise, stifled by her tight lips. James made a similar anxious sound, unsure what to make of the encounter. She flashed a quick smile, but it faded just as fast while she concentrated. Then again, almost a twitch. She poked his ass, his thighs, and ran her fingernail down his back. James was beginning to worry, about being turned over like some prized treasure. She flipped him back around and he saw only curiosity. Whatever she was thinking, it seemed harmless enough.

“I’m s-sorry, this is just so new. Hold still.”

Emma withdrew a thin strip of rolled cloth and unwound it. There were dashes and numbers along the side, and James recognized it as measuring tape for fabric.

“What’s that for?”

“For your new clothes, silly.”

James tried to relax as she maneuvered his arms and legs around, taking his measurements. She jotted the numbers down into the notepad app of her phone. 

“I’m pretty sure the doll clothes were one-size-fits-all”

“I’m going to make them. I take good care of all my… people. Sorry.” Her eyes flashed up to his, seeing him for the first time since she started measuring him.

“No, that’s OK. I guess I’m not used to getting taken care of.”

“Well. It’s… It’s weird for me too. Let’s both try to get used to it, OK? It doesn’t have to happen all at once.” She got up and walked into the kitchen.

James was still very confused but something was beginning to change. He had never been given this sort of treatment, even as a joke. He could get used to this. Emma was strange but he was eager to find out more.

“Would you like some tea before your bath?”

“I’ve never had tea.”

Emma stopped walking around the kitchen and came back to the table with a grave face.

“Poor thing. It’s no wonder you’re wound up so tight. Tea is what you have to make you feel at home. You’re home now.”

“Tea sounds nice.”