ORIGINAL ADULT STORY - A New Barbie. REMARKS WELCOME
REVENGE
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The following is a work of Adult Fiction, and, as such, may
contain adult sexual situations which may be considered offensive
by some. If you are under the legal age in your location or if you
find sexual explicit fiction to be offensive, then I encourage you to
STOP READING NOW.
Otherwise, the following is Copyright January, 2000 by Sharon Tipton
and may be duplicated or re-transmitted as long as it is unchanged.
Also, this text must be included in any re-posting.
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A New Barbie
By Sharon T.
My name was . . . is . . . well, at one time, my name was Bobby. It's always
so hard to begin. The events that occurred to me seem so improbable, that I
get everything confused in my head. I guess that's to be expected, though,
considering the ramifications of these events. See what I mean? I'm getting
mixed up already.
I suppose the easiest thing is to try to relate everything that has happened
in chronological order, hoping that by reliving this critical time, I might
be able to make sense of it.
It began as I was graduating high school. I went to a very restrictive
private school - mainly because I had been something of a discipline problem
at every public school that my parents had tried. I was a skinny 18-year
old, with few job opportunities for the summer. An acquaintance at school,
George Fagan, knowing that I had nothing lined up, suggested that I talk to
his mom about babysitting his little sister. George was going to spend the
summer in Europe visiting some relatives over there. I knew few details, but
I called his mom that night.
She told me that I would have to spend the night over at their house. The
Fagan's lived in an absolutely huge house with a large, perfectly manicured
lawn. Mr. Fagan was some big-time banker, and Mrs. Fagan was famous with the
community arts center. They had only George and a young daughter, Ursula.
She was cute enough, for a 7-year old, but she needed to be watched
throughout the summer. Our agreement was for me to fix her breakfast, lunch,
and sometimes dinner; watch her swim at the family pool; take her to the
occasional movie or mall; and, basically, keep her occupied while her
parents and brother pursued their own interests. In return, I was to live in
the pool house, get my meals paid for, I would have every Sunday off, and I
would earn more during the summer than I could possibly make at a fast-food
joint in over a year. All this and the housekeeper would keep everything
clean and the cook would prepare all the meals. I had just one real job, and
that would only fill a few hours per day. I drove over to their house and
got the grand tour.
The pool house was great. It was just like having an apartment of my own. It
was totally separate from the main house, and I could excuse myself by about
9 at night and then watch TV or read or play video games as late as I
wanted.
Ursula was all right at first. I guess she was quieter than most girls her
age. One strange thing was that she had a room full of dolls and doll
accessories. She was absolutely infatuated with Barbie and all the dolls in
the Barbie universe. This included a huge trunk full of clothes for all of
her dolls. I was impressed with the completeness of her collection. My own
sister had a few Barbies, but Ursula had absolutely everything. It was
typical that her parents showered these gifts upon her in place of
affection. She seemed no worse for it, though, and spent hours playing with
her dolls.
The Fagans had a beautiful home, and I spent much of my time wandering
around. Mr. and Mrs. Fagan had separate bedrooms, and each was luxuriously
appointed. Mrs. Fagan had a gigantic walk-in closet with more clothes than
my entire family combined. She had racks and racks of high-heels, dresses -
both formal and casual, furs and jackets, and also a stand up wardrobe full
of lingerie. Did I mention that Mrs. Fagan was a stone-cold FOX? - The
cutest, petite blonde with gorgeous legs, tiny waist, and fantastic boobs.
Mr. Fagan was a remarkably tall, dark, good-looking man that dressed
impeccably and always carried himself with a regal gait. Had I been a woman,
I would say that he was handsome. As it was, I just remained in awe of him.
He spent most of his time while at home in his massive library. I had only
peeked in this room, but I saw literally hundreds of old, leather bound
books filling shelves that extended from ceiling to floor.
I had been watching Ursula for about two weeks when things changed for me.
She had hurried out of the kitchen after breakfast, and I had to hunt all
over the house after I finished helping with the dishes. I had planned on
spending the day at the pool, so I was just wearing my bathing trunks as I
opened door after door looking for her. I was just about to give up when I
decided to glance in the library. There she was, sitting in her father's
leather chair, flipping through a large, musty book. This book was almost as
large as she and I laughed when I saw her intent expression.
"Ursula, what a big book," I said, sarcastically.
She looked at me with complete disdain, as if I had no right to interrupt
her studies. But she carefully closed the book, placed it on a table beside
her father's chair and skipped out of the room. I stood by the door
wondering, then I walked over and looked at the title of the book. The worn
leather cover had only a strange symbol, like a single human eye staring
straight out at the reader. It seemed to have some kind of multi-colored gem
as the iris of the eye. The leather of the cover had an odd feel, almost
like human skin. And it was a light beige color of exquisite fineness.
I flipped the cover open and looked at the title page. There was only one
word, Prestidigipaedia. It looked like Latin, and the pages were crumpled
and stained, but the words were clear enough. I just couldn't understand
them, so I closed the book and tossed it into the chair. It was odd, and she
just couldn't have actually been reading it. It just must be the pictures or
something. I left the library and caught up with Ursula outside of her
bedroom.
She said that she didn't want to go swimming, she just wanted to play with
her dolls. This happened so frequently that I had gotten used to it. I told
her that I would be out at the pool reading a book, and that I would check
on her regularly.
I went downstairs and set up a comfortable lounge chair in the sunshine. I
threw my towel on a table and plopped down determined to relax for the next
hour or so. The day was perfect, the sky as clear as a bell. The pool was
large and well appointed, so the scent of carefully tended flowers wafted
across the deck and helped me drift off to sleep.
I had the strangest dream. I seemed to be frozen in place, on the same
chaise lounge that I was on when I had fallen asleep. There was a strange
aspect to the light, as if it was artificial, but I couldn't tilt my head to
look up at the sun. I was able to just see the shape of my hand from out of
the corner of my eye, and I was shocked by the image. My hand seemed shiny
and plastic. I realized that I was a doll - one of Ursula's dolls. I couldn'
t see any more of myself, but a scream was frozen behind my mask like face.
I awoke feeling completely disoriented. The sun was directly overhead, so I
figured that it was time to fix lunch and check on Ursula. I was still
groggy, and unsteady on my feet as I made my way to the French doors that
led to the kitchen. I saw no trace of the housekeeper, but she often left
early since the house was almost empty. The cook regularly fixed lunch and
left instructions for me to warm up some dinner. I felt that it was about
time for lunch, and Ursula would need to be reminded or she would play with
her dolls all day.
For some reason, the door handle seemed higher than usual. I was still a
little fuzzy, but that didn't explain the way things looked to me. As soon
as I reached the kitchen, I doubled over in pain. There was a pain shooting
through me and I almost fell to the floor. I stopped for a moment, breathing
hard and looking around. Everything looked odd to me - out of proportion. I
made it to the stairway, and almost pulled myself up the handrail. I was
definitely getting weaker. At the top of the stairs I steadied myself and
tried to walk straight to Ursula's room. I heard her singing or talking or
something and my vision became clouded and I grabbed at the doorknob and
almost fell into her room.
Something was terribly wrong with me and I tried to focus and I saw
something about Ursula. She was in the middle of some kind of pattern on the
floor. It was a star or something and there were little candles at each
point of the star. Ursula was in the center of this pattern and she was
singing or saying some kind of hymn with her eyes closed. That book that she
had been reading was opened in front of her, and a single candle lit the
book at her face, which reflected a trance-like state. I reached towards
her, but she seemed to be moving further away from me, almost like I was
looking the wrong way through a zoom lens and it was zooming further and
further away.
I realized with a gasp that I was getting smaller and smaller and my breath
was almost sucked right out of me, I shrunk so quickly. Ursula's voice was
now booming and I couldn't understand what was happening, couldn't stand,
falling, and then I fell all the way to the floor below me with a tiny
"plop".
Before I completely passed out, I looked at myself. I had changed
dramatically.
I was now the approximate height and proportions of a Barbie Doll, with some
notable exceptions - my breasts ended in dark aureole and were tipped with
exquisite dark nipples that stood at attention in the air-conditioned room.
The other major exception was my crotch. Instead of the gender-less real
Barbie Doll, my mons veneris was tufted by fine, curling blonde pubic hair,
and the wetness that I felt told me that I had developed exactly as if I
were a human Barbie, but just a few inches tall. I had been turned into a
tiny woman.
Of course, I was made of flesh and blood, but the proportions of my new
feminine figure were unbelievable. My breasts were massive - at least Full
44D, my legs seemed incredibly long and slender, ending in dainty feet, and
my waist was as incredibly small as my now rounded hips were wide. I had an
unmistakable hourglass shape, but would have made an impossible woman.
The wetness in my vagina increased, and I pulled my now thin and delicate
hands from their position covering my breasts, down along my tight belly and
finally to that soft hair that framed my now musk-filled vagina.
I was in a total state of shock, my heart fluttering like a hummingbird's
wing. I virtually swooned, when I felt a powerful blast of air as Ursula's
hand swooped to grab me from off of the floor.
I blinked as she gently held me cradled in her hands, now seeming so
gigantic to me. My thoughts would not congeal, and my skin tingled with a
sensation most nearly like the "pins and needles" you feel when your foot
has fallen asleep, yet you try and walk on it. I felt so weak that I could
barely lift my head. I was completely naked and her child's hand was rougher
than sandpaper. I must have said something, for she almost dropped me and
the jerk of her palm knocked the wind out of me. I gasped for air, and she
swept me over to the other side of the room in one gargantuan motion, which
forced me to clutch at her fingers or fall from this ever-increasing height.
She gently placed me on the card table that she used for her Barbie
collection and accessories. She pushed a pink Corvette - with "Barbie"
splashed across the hood in garish red, pink, and yellow -almost to the edge
of the table. And then she stepped back and looked at me.
"I did it. We both did it. Now, get settled in - I'll be right back", her
voice rang and echoed until I clutched at my ears in pain. She must have
realized, so she bent down close to me and tried to whisper. Unfortunately,
her mouth was so large that she seemed to be making a hissing, spitting
growl and I could not understand a word she said.
I needed Ursula to get me back to myself before her parents came home. For
some reason, I didn't consider for a moment that I would be staying in this
form. I didn't even examine it at that time - my mind was so over run with
fear and a state that I can only describe as tearing down train tracks with
no engineer on the brake and you feel yourself picking up speed, and at
every tiny bend in the rail you can almost feel the cars start to tip and
there ahead you see a hairpin turn in the tracks and a flush of cold ice
runs through your veins for a moment, and you want to just black out and let
it not BE. Let it not exist, but just be a disruption of the senses - the
old "under cooked bit of potato" as Dickens said.
I don't even know now what happened next for me. I remember fragments of
images - a blue plastic table that had to be pushed to the side and scraped
the strangely textured black and white patterned floor. Everything in one
room was bright pink, but there were curtains over a bright yellow sink, of
white lace with pastel clam shells in the design. It must have been a
kitchen of some kind, but I really didn't remember much until much later.
I awoke in bed, and felt fairly normal. I tried to sit up and realized that
the sheet was missing. That's when, in a flood, I remembered the events of
the day. Rubbing my eyes, I surveyed the room.
The room was in the brightest electric pink that you could imagine with
equally bright yellow accents. Three of the walls were made of a tough,
thick plastic, and the third wall was some type of thick corrugated
cardboard with a paper backing upon which was printed a loud floral pattern
with orange, pink, yellow and green in an abstract arrangement that gave me
a headache. There was a window in the plastic wall directly opposite this
corrugated wall, and I looked out to see an odd off-white shape. I began to
notice the contents of the room.
There was a blocky pink plastic table with two matching high-back chairs.
There was also a white vanity table with a fairly useless mirror. At the
vanity table was a small white plastic stool. There was something like a
large armoire, but it resembled a cardboard box with cheap flower appliques
on it.
The blanket that covered me was a piece of thick coarse fabric that
scratched my bare skin. Now, I noticed my state of undress, and I realized
that this body was much more sensitive to the coarseness of the fabric than
my male body had been.
I examined myself. I had large pert breasts with nipples that stood out
against the rough fabric. My long blonde hair cascaded over my shoulders and
tumbled all the way down to my navel. My waist was impossibly tiny, and I
suspected that I had an 18" waist, although, I reminded myself, it was
probably far, far less given my current size. My legs were long and smooth
and ended in tiny feet and fragile, elegant toes, the nails of which were
painted a bright red.
I got up from the "bed" and stretched my arms. This body felt great. I had
never felt so alive. My tiny feet felt the cool smoothness of the plastic
floor, and I tiptoed over to the armoire. It was difficult to slide the door
open, for it was obviously made for much larger hands, but inside was a mass
of ill-arranged clothing for Ursula's dolls. I picked through the mess and
found a bikini that seemed to fit me. It was rough and the seams scratched
my sides. I couldn't see myself very well in the mirror. It was actually
some shiny paper that was stuck onto the plastic vanity table.
It's funny, but I found myself prancing around on my tiptoes just like a
girl. This body, although incredibly small, was an actual woman's of the
same age as me, but with accentuated female features. I was obviously a
biological female, and whatever changes that makes on a personality, it was
having a marked effect on mine. I could feel my breasts jiggle as I walked
and I enjoyed the feeling of soft weight that was added to my chest. My
smooth long legs were tapered perfectly, and I realized that this body was
one that I had wanted for a long time, just not necessarily from the inside.
I giggled at that thought, and then found some white plastic heels that were
apparently my size. They were uncomfortable.
The door to the bedroom opened and Ursula came in. She walked directly over
to me and knelt down so that her face was even with mine.
"Well, how do you like being my Barbie?" she boomed.
I found that I had to shout to be heard.
"These clothes aren't any good. Get me something more comfortable to wear,"
I screamed.
She thought for a moment.
"I'll get you some of my Mommy's clothes, but you have to play with me
first."
"Look, Ursula. I'm not going to be your Barbie doll, so you better change me
back right away. When your parents get home, you will be in big trouble."
"No," she squealed, "If you tell my parents then I won't be able to play and
I want to play. It's not fair. I never have any fun and I only want you to
be Barbie for a little while and then I'll change you back before anyone
comes home, but I am SOOOOO bored and you never do anything and I want to
just play with you and with my dolls for a little while. Please?"
I don't know why, but I gave in. She was as good as her word and got some of
her mother's clothes and spoke over them until they shrunk down to my size.
I actually enjoyed wearing her mom's clothes. It was especially exciting to
have Ursula insist that I wear lingerie and stockings and formal dresses and
then she would make me change into other clothes, like a business suit and
dark heels, and then she wanted me to wear makeup.
That was very interesting. She and I looked in some magazines of her mother'
s and we chose a model that appeared to have attractive makeup. Ursula would
wave her hands over the picture and speak some odd Latin phrases and then I
had the exact same makeup on my face. It was a lot of fun playing dress up,
and I let her set up the furniture and decide what I would do. Usually she
would want me to "Fix dinner for daddy" or "give your little girl a bath" or
some other make-believe game that would require my interaction with some of
her dolls. She liked it when I would talk to Ken as if he were real. I would
call him 'honey" or "darling" and she would beam.
Ursula always had to play the part of Ken or Skipper when their dolls were
required for her little girl scenarios. Eventually, she said for "Mommy and
Daddy go to bed" and then I had to virtually drag the Ken doll into the
bedroom, position him on the bed fully clothed, and lay next to him feigning
sleep.
After this, I could tell that Ursula was losing interest so I suggested that
it would be a good time to turn me back before her parents got home. I would
have to get dinner started, especially since we had skipped lunch. She
agreed and I found myself suddenly standing in the middle of the room with
her mother's sundress, pantyhose, heels, and a face full of makeup. Ursula
giggled when I made a fuss and then suddenly I was back in my bathing suit
and everything was back to normal.
I went straight downstairs under the pretense of fixing dinner. Instead I
ran to the pool house and packed my bag. I was determined to get out of
there immediately. The entire incident had unnerved me and I wanted no more
of this wacky little girl or any of her family. The money was just not worth
it.
I made it to the front door of the house, but I felt it just as I reached
for the front door. My hand was receding from the doorknob faster than I
could run, and in the next instant I was a little Barbie doll and my bag was
flying through the air over my head to land just in front of the door. I
slammed into the bag with full force and sprang back, tumbling head over
heels on the floor.
When I regained my orientation, Ursula was standing over me. She scooped me
up and the air was fairly forced into my lungs as she rushed up the stairs
and into her room. I could hardly breath, it was like being on the outside
of a Boeing 747 at cruising altitude. She had grabbed me rather tightly too,
so I had bruises on my hips and rib cage.
She dropped me into the dollhouse and I rolled against the pink plastic
wall, somersaulted, and hopped up quickly. I was once again the living
Barbie doll, and as naked as the last time that she changed me. She was
crying uncontrollably, and it took all my patience to not yell at her but
just tell her that it would be okay and not to worry and not to cry.
Finally, I had her calmed down and I asked her to change me back. She
refused. I promised that I wouldn't run away. I told her that I had just
been scared and had made a mistake but I wouldn't do it again if she would
just change me back. As a last ditch effort, I promised that I wouldn't tell
her parents and that, okay, I would let her play Barbie with me tomorrow,
but I needed her to change me back right now.
She agreed and I found myself back at the front door sitting on the floor.
My bag was right in front of me. I sat there for a moment. I considered just
leaping up and running out the door, but I thought that she would still be
able to get me. I had promised as well, and I guess it wasn't really that
bad. It wasn't as if anyone else knew about this. I sighed, picked up my bag
and returned to the pool house to unpack.
The Fagans returned home late that night, after I had fed Ursula and sent
her to bed. I said nothing to them and just went to the pool house to think
over the day's events. I fell asleep and was haunted by disturbingly
pleasant dreams about myself as a housewife. Odd.
Well, Ursula and I worked out a routine. We would have breakfast as usual
and then we would "play dolls" for a few hours. Then we would eat lunch and
we would play outside while we waited for the servants to leave. After some
exercise, if I couldn't convince her to take a nap in the afternoon, it
would be another couple of hours playing dolls. She always changed me back
in plenty of time to get ready for her parent's return.
I guess I can say it now, although I wouldn't at the time. I really enjoyed
myself. I loved the dressing up and the makeup and even the role-playing. I
always acted like a caricature of a "TV" mom, rather than a fully fleshed
out person. It seemed to fit the scenarios that Ursula enjoyed. She
occasionally had me put on her mom's bikini and then she wanted to play "go
to the beach". This meant that she carried me out to the pool and we played
there. This was always a bit strange for me since I felt exposed when
outside. I knew that no one would notice me, but if anyone came by I would
be in a very embarrassing situation.
I guess this went on for weeks before the next stage of our tale. Mr. Fagan
came home one Friday and said that he would like to speak to me privately.
He took me to his library and told me that his wife and he wanted to take a
vacation. He was curious to know if I could watch Ursula full time for a few
weeks. They had planned a trip to Europe to coincide with their son's time
there and were sure that I would have no trouble with Ursula. He confided
that they had asked Ursula and she really liked me and was looking forward
to the gifts that her parents would bring back. He finished by telling me
that he realized that this would mean more money and he suggested an amount
that was phenomenal. I thought for a moment. This would probably mean even
more of the Barbie episodes, but as I mentioned, this was becoming something
that I enjoyed at least as much as Ursula. I acquiesced.
They left the next day. I waved to them from the front door, and, when I saw
their car pull around the corner, I spun around with a huge grin on my face.
I felt that I would be having the time of my life. How right can one guy be?
For the next few days, I spent almost all my time as Barbie. It even got to
the point that when I had to fix meals, she wouldn't change me back but just
turn me full sized during this time and then change me back to my diminutive
stature after the meal. I asked what had happened to the servants, and she
just laughed and said that I shouldn't worry about it.
One day, while I was fixing lunch wearing a pink mini-skit, bright yellow
hose, fire engine red high heels, and a lacy white apron, the door bell
rang. I froze and Ursula came running down the stairs.
I pulled off the apron and walked to the front door. I figured that it was
probably a salesman or a delivery boy, and there was no reason to think that
there was any reason to change back to my male form. I waved to Ursula that
it was all right and then opened the door wide.
I have to digress for a moment. In High School, I had few friends. I
belonged to some club: the Pep Club which was a group that helped to set up
the dances and Pep Rallies during the football and basketball seasons, and
the Drama Club which produced a play each year. I loved the Drama Club and
had a lead role in our Junior year which really changed my life. We did a
version of "Romeo and Juliet" that was intended to be historically correct.
This basically meant that the sets were primitive and boys played all the
parts, even the female parts. I had been chosen, mainly because of my small,
thin frame, to play Juliet. This was a bit embarrassing, but it was a choice
role and I really got into the part. Fortunately, the version that we
performed was very much cut down from the original - it just wouldn't have
been interesting to high-schoolers - so there was no real love scene and I
didn't have to do more than the famous balcony scene and the final death
scene. Playing Romeo was one of my few friends, Daryl. He was much like me,
not very popular, not very smart, no girlfriends, but he was slightly taller
and a bit heavier.
He was, in fact, quite muscular, which I found out during the death scene as
it calls for him to lie across Juliet when he dies. When he lay across my
lap, I felt his tight, muscular chest against my crotch and I had a
momentary erection. I'm sure he didn't notice, or he would have said
something, but our friendship had cooled after the play. I guess we were
both a little embarrassed by the connection and decided to pretty much stay
away from each other to stop the gossip. I hadn't seen much of him since the
play, but I knew that he lived in the neighborhood that the Fagans lived in.
Well, Daryl was standing there at the front door just as plain as you
please. With him was Stanley.
Now Stanley was a short, dark, fat boy with thick glasses that followed
Daryl around everywhere. It was well known that his family was wealthy - his
dad owned the local furniture store, and he would have been the victim of
innumerable taunts if it was not for the protection that Daryl afforded him.
Daryl was no threat to the real bullies in school and they did their share
in tormenting Stanley, but the kids in our class at least liked Daryl and
usually left Stanley alone for this reason. It was rumored that it was the
hero-worship that Stanley showed to Daryl that insured that I was not teased
about being his "girlfriend" during the run of the play - everyone had
already started the rumor that Stanley was his girlfriend and in fact, that
Stanley had wanted the role as Juliet! This was cruel, but Stanley stood
next to Daryl in the Fagan's doorway and resembled for all the world a dog
following his adored master.
I realized that they had no idea whom I was, and that they were probably
looking for Bobby, not Barbie. The effect that I had on them was amazing
though. I could tell that Daryl was impressed, he wouldn't take his eyes off
my cleavage for a second! Stanley, on the other hand, seemed to shoot
bullets at me from his eyes. I suddenly realized something that I had never
seen as a guy - Stanley really was in love with Daryl and saw women as a
threat. Funny that I had never felt this before. I got the oddest idea
though, and decided to try and fool them. They couldn't possible guess that
I was Bobby, and I could at least get rid of them in a creative manner. I
affected a heavy French accent and pretended to be the "voluptuous young
French maid/bimbo".
"Pardon, Monsieur, Mister Fagan ees not at 'ome," I chirruped in a sexy high
voice.
"Uh, no," said Daryl, stammering horribly," we were looking for Bobby? We
heard that he worked here and we just . . . uh . . . live just . . . a few
doors down. Really, just Bobby."
It was funny to see Daryl so lost for words. I smiled my perfect Barbie
smile at him and noticed a sudden bump in the bulge in his pants as he
continued.
"So. Is Bobby home?"
I smiled even wider, "Non Bobbee ees not 'ome either. Bobbee ees so very,
how you say, pretty and manly for us, he he he." I ended in the most girlish
giggle. I noticed Ursula watching from the bottom of the steps and she had a
funny look on her face. I thought that there was something odd going on in
there and I wasn't ready for any sudden changes so I decided in a heartbeat
to have some help.
"I eem just fixing the lunch for pretty leetle Ursula. Won't you sweet
American boys like to eat some lunch. Oui?"
Daryl almost choked and hollered, "Yes." But I could tell that Stanley wasn'
t too crazy about the idea. I led them in and showed them to the kitchen and
made sure that Ursula followed us.
I guess that I got a little carried away. I wagged my tail at them like a
dog in heat. By the time that we got to the kitchen, Daryl could barely sit
down, his erection was so pronounced. Sidney squirmed into a seat next to
him and continued his malevolent glare at me. I tied the thin white lace
apron around my tiny waist and set a sumptuous luncheon in front of them. I
was apparently paying too much attention to them because Ursula became
enraged.
"I want to play with you Barbie. I want to play now," she screamed in a
veritable temper tantrum. The boys were pretty uncomfortable, and I am sure
that Daryl noticed when my French accent disappeared as I tried to calm her
down. I promised her that we would play dolls as soon as lunch was over. She
insisted that she wanted to play now.
Well, things were getting out of hand. Ursula was positively blubbering, I
was frazzled and unable to shut her up, Daryl was calmly staring at my bosom
and Stanley wanted me to curl up and drop dead. Suddenly, Ursula got a
serious look on her face, she raised her hands in an odd manner over her
head and there was something like a lightning bolt and I found myself back
in the dollhouse bedroom, still wearing the mini-skirt and apron that I had
worn when regular sized.
I was in the pink plastic bedroom, but I heard a commotion in the horribly
floral kitchen and ran to find out what it was. It turns out that sitting in
the kitchen around the breakfast table was a real-life Ken wearing a sport
jacket and khaki pants. Sitting next to him was Skipper, her tiny tanned
body and bleach blonde hair unmistakable. She was wearing a small plaid
skirt and a tank top T-shirt. Her small boobies and petite nipples were
barely poking through the thick material.
"Daryl?" I asked of Ken.
He just stared at me, stupefied. He nodded and then looked at Skipper. It
was obvious that it was Stanley trapped in that pre-teen body, but she was
smiling so wide and her eyes were so bright that you would have thought that
this was a real girl sitting next to him. I guess that this was something
that Stanley had wanted his whole life, and was in some blissful state
approaching ecstasy over his metamorphosis.
Ursula had decided that we were all going to play dolls, and the boys had as
little choice in the matter as I. We started acting out the parts as Ursula
came up with them, and everything started to go smoothly, but Skipper
realized that she was the "little sister" to Barbie and that Ken was
supposed to be Barbie's boyfriend, not Skipper's. I could tell that Stanley
wasn't pleased and was even getting more bitter by the minute as Ken and I
got into our roles. I would set the table and Ken would follow me around and
touch my bottom, or my hand, or put his hand on my waist. I could tell what
he wanted - he seemed to have decided that this was a dream and he was very
happy with the arrangement, but Stanley would bristle whenever Ken touched
me, and I knew that he did not consider this a dream - more like a
nightmare.
Ursula was very pleased with Skipper, however, and spent much of her time
moving Skipper around. She would have to act out riding a pony, and doing
her homework and taking a nap and, in short, all the things that Ursula
herself did as well as some things that Ursula wished that she could do.
This left Ken and I alone much of the time. Soon, all the flirtation began
to have a cumulative affect and Ken put his two hands on my hips and swung
me around. As I smiled at him he put his lips to mine and gave me a very
passionate kiss. At first I just let him do it, but I found my hands moving
around his back and my breasts pushing against his chest and I felt a
wetness in my crotch and I opened my lips to his thrusting, exploring
tongue.
His strong arms wrapped around me and I felt his bulge pushing against my
waist, the heat from his penis radiating from behind the thin khaki pants.
His hands began to move up my waist and towards my breasts and I gasped as I
felt my nipples harden and grow - pushing the front of the tiny mini-dress
to it's limit.
I suppose that Ursula must have seen us, for I heard a conversation between
Skipper and she.
"Where are Ken and Barbie?" Skipper asked with venom in her voice.
"Oh, they're playing Mommy and Daddy," was the childish reply.
"What do you mean? What does it mean to play Mommy and Daddy?" Skipper asked
almost hysterically
"They're kissing and making babies," Ursula told her. "Now it's time for you
to ride your bicycle." And that was the last that I heard, since I was more
involved with helping Ken get my brassiere off.
Soon, we were on the floor of the bedroom, his hands all over my chest,
feeling my hard nipples between his fingertips and gasping in his ear. I
wanted him more than I could have imagined. I wanted him inside of me. My
pussy was weeping for his penis to fill me. My hips were grinding against
his leg and I could have climaxed right then, humping his knee like a
nymphomaniac. I wanted to fuck more than ever I did as a male. How did women
resist this urge? I had a need to be filled that began as an itch in my
crotch. I knew that I would do anything that he wanted if I could only have
him inside of me. I wanted to feel him pumping that now huge member into me.
Ursula disturbed our lovemaking before we could do more than neck. She
simply lifted the roof of the dollhouse and said, "No more playing Mommy and
Daddy, you two. We can make some more babies tomorrow. For now, it's time
for us to go to the beach.
With that, she picked up all of us and dropped us into a shoebox. She put
some accessories into the box with us, and then told Skipper and I to change
into bikinis while Ken was to put on trunks.
I had been through the drill enough to just peel down to nothing and step
into the bikini bottoms and then slipping on the top. Skipper was a
different story. She obviously knew how to take off the clothes, since she
did it so quickly, but then she went straight over to Ken and started
flirting with him. His penis was still so large and hard and Skipper could
not take her eyes off of it. She reached down and grabbed it in her little
girl's fingers and started to rub it.
I just stood there and watched as Skipper knelt down and started to kiss the
tip of Ken's penis. Her lips played around the tip and her tongue came out
and licked at the tiny pee hole and then swirled around the head of his
dick. Before I knew it, she sucked almost his entire dick into her mouth and
started pumping with both her mouth and fingertips with wild abandon.
Now Skipper couldn't be stopped. She was gasping for breath and her saliva
dripped down her chin and she sucked and sucked on his tool until I saw his
jism spurt in massive squirts into her gaping lips. This didn't sate her
appetite as she continued sucking on his quickly waning erection until every
drop of his seed was quaffed down her pouting lips.
When Ken came into her mouth he almost screamed. I knew, as Stanley must,
that Daryl was a virgin. Okay, we all were. But it was widely known that
Daryl was a "one-woman" kind of man, and Skipper obviously did this because
she was worried that I was becoming his infatuation. She apparently enjoyed
her activity, which was good, since Ken was even more anxious to take me
than before. I noticed that when he came into Skipper's wet willing mouth,
he was looking directly at me in my skimpy bikini. I knew that he felt that
he had come for me, and I also knew, in my bones, that I would be boning him
soon, and Skipper would never be more than the "small-load" for him.
Once Ursula got the box to the side of the pool, she set up some small
plastic deck furniture and let Ken and I lounge in the shade of the parasol.
She took Skipper with her into the pool and they played sharks and minnows,
with Skipper invariably the minnow. I felt sorry for her, but she was a
strong swimmer, and Ken and I were close by. It did strike me as a dangerous
situation, but I was really enjoying the feel of Ken's eyes as they wandered
over my shapely body. I stretched out on the lounge chair and crossed my
long smooth legs. He scuffled his lounge chair closer to mine, and I decided
to practice something that I had seen on TV before - pillow talk. I talked
as close to dirty as is possible without actually asking him to fuck me
right there.
I was rewarded with an immediate erection that poked his trunks into a tent.
I smiled, relishing the effect I was having on him. I had an added advantage
over Skipper, I realized. Daryl had no idea that I was really Bobby and not
a real woman. He did, somewhere in the depths of his consciousness, know
that Stanley and Skipper were one and the same.
By the time I had Ken worked up into a sexual peak, Ursula was back with
Skipper. Skipper hurried over to us, dripping wet, and glared at me. She sat
directly on the lounge chair with Ken and dripped water all over him. We had
no towels our size, but Ursula had brought a large one. We could have all
slept in it and never touched each other, it was so large. Skipper was
obvious in wanting to speak with Ken privately. I think that she wanted to
repeat her performance in the shoe box. It wasn't to be, however, because
Ursula was hungry and wanted to eat. That meant that I needed to be made
full size. She did this, and then surprised us all by allowing Daryl to
return to his normal form. She kept Skipper and ran upstairs while I got the
dinner ready.
I was still Barbie, just full sized, and Daryl was still as enthralled as
before. He was still wearing the trunks that he had worn as Ken, but his
body had changed back completely. I noticed that the bulge was not nearly as
pronounced as when he was little Ken, but I decided not to be disappointed
until I knew how well he could use it!
I suppose that you've noticed, by now, that my emotions and yearnings had
changed. It's true. While I was Barbie, I felt and actually thought like a
real woman. When I saw a man, I noticed the bulge in his pants - when I had
never, I mean never, done that as a man. I noticed their buns, their
muscles, their arms, their chest. I felt that each man I saw was a possible
dick shoved up between my legs. How in the world did women control
themselves? It was absolute genius that they had found a way to make men
feel that they were the ones always obsessed with sex and the women
controlled themselves when I knew, firsthand, that it was the exact opposite
of the truth.
So I not only had the body of a voluptuous blonde bimbo, but I had the mind
and emotions to match. My body was designed for fucking and all I could
think of was getting a cock deep into my pussy.
I did control myself, at least at that time, and fixed a dinner for all four
of us. I took a bit of intuition and set up the table so that Skipper and
Ursula sat next to each other and Daryl and I sat next to each other. I was
proven correct in my assumption when Ursula came down with a full-sized
Skipper. Skipper was definitely not happy, having to remain like this
instead of changing back to Stanley. He was even more upset when he noticed
that Daryl could not take his eyes off of me. Even more difficult for her
was the fact that I still wore that revealing string bikini and my cleavage
was spectacularly displayed for Daryl's eager eyes.
During dinner, I asked Ursula what she wanted to do this evening. She
definitely could not keep Daryl and Stanley over night like me. She was
upset because she really wanted them to come back and they might run away
like I tried to. I promised her that they wouldn't and that they would be
back in the morning if she could just trust me and let me talk to them. She
was reluctant, but I persuaded her to turn Stanley back, give them back
their clothes, and then go upstairs and get ready for bed.
My work was cut out for me, but I told Daryl and Stanley that if they could
just come back in the morning, I would make it worth their while. I told
them that I could pay them for helping me with Ursula, and that they would
have more money than they would know what to do with. It turns out that it
took little to convince Daryl to come back. He wanted to be with his Barbie
enough to do anything. I think that Stanley decided to return just to keep
an eye on Daryl. As they left, promising to return early in the morning, I
noticed that Stanley was particularly quiet, even for him, and that Daryl
kept his distance as they walked together down the driveway, through the
gate, and to their homes.
Bright and early the next morning, I had Ursula change me into my full-sized
Barbie form, complete with a revealing pink nightgown and pink see-though
robe. Finally, I had her give me pink high heel slippers with big puffy,
pink boa bow on the front. My toenails and fingernails were painted a hot
pink to match. I had on matching lipstick and subtle rose eye shadow. To
finish the outfit, I had long gold hoop earrings in my lobes.
When the doorbell rang, I almost flew to answer it. I had fixed a big
breakfast for the boys, and was very excited about the day. I just knew that
Ken and Barbie were going to consummate their relationship.
Daryl was beaming. He hurried into the house and went straight to the
kitchen without being invited. He obviously wanted to get the day's
activities started. Stanley just slumped and slowly found his way to the
kitchen and sat with a pouting expression on his face. I decided that this
was not going to be the day that I'd wanted unless I could convince Stanley
to enjoy the Skipper role. I knew that he liked at least one aspect of the
role. Maybe he needed to have some more incentive.
I formulated a plan, and the first part of it was to make sure that I got
"Skipper" on my side. I made sure that I sat next to Stanley, even though
Daryl's eyes never left me. As we ate, I made small talk, being sure to say
complementary things like, "Ursula sure is crazy about you." And, "you have
the best imagination." It went over fairly well. He nodded at me and almost
smiled once. I didn't want to be too obvious so I dropped it. The two guys
still considered this only a one day thing - and I had only today to
convince Stanley that he wanted to remain as Skipper. I knew that this meant
making sure that Ken and Skipper spent some time together, and I had decided
on tricking Ursula. It would be risky - who knew what she might do in
retaliation.
I cleaned off the table and told the boys to head upstairs and wait for us,
while I asked Ursula to help me with the dishes. She carefully brought the
dishes as I waited by the sink. I was stunned, again, at her age. To think
that she had done all this and she was only, what, seven?
"I think that you are spending too much time with Skipper, Ursula," I began.
" She wants to spend time with Ken just like I do, and she really hoped that
she could help him get ready for work. Couldn't we pretend that Skipper was
helping Ken get ready for work while you and I finished the dishes and
cleaned up the house? That way we can be full-sized all day long and be a
real family for a little while. Would you like that?"
I knew that she had been acting out her little scenarios and that her family
was semi-dysfunctional. She resented her real parents for leaving to go to
work or their functions and she was always left with the dolls. She made the
dolls into her whole world, and I felt that it was time to make the
transition from doll-sized people to real people. The only problem was to
make sure that Ursula still felt in control of events. She would become very
stubborn if she thought that I was trying to manipulate her.
I continued, "You know, Ursula, if I had a little girl, I would want her to
be as pretty and nice as you. Do you think that you would like to have a
woman like me for a Mommy? I mean, if you didn't already have a Mommy and
Daddy."
I saw her hesitate and think. I was pretty sure that she had already changed
Stanley and Daryl upstairs, and Skipper was evidently taking the initiative.
I heard her light squeals from up in the master bedroom, and I could swear
that I heard the floorboards creaking in a rhythmic fashion.
Although I envied Skipper her adventure, I didn't interrupt them. It would
have been impossible to get away from Ursula, and I was trying to keep her
occupied with all the drudgery of keeping house. I found that I had a real
knack for the chores that I was doing, it even felt kind of sexy to be
moving a vacuum cleaner across the carpet while wearing a full length
see-through pink nightgown. My heeled slippers made tiny impressions in the
carpet and I reveled in my body and the sounds that my negligee made as I
moved. I hummed and fairly danced while doing my wifely house chores.
At lunch, I suggested that Ken and Skipper might like to join us for an
afternoon at the movies. Ursula was thrilled. Not only would she get to see
a movie, but she was going to take her favorite dolls with her. She picked a
cartoon fantasy called "The Fairy Princesses" and let me go up and get
Skipper and Ken.
When I entered the bedroom, I heard Ken in the shower and I saw Skipper in
the king size bed with the covers pulled over her lithe body. Only one
delicate foot stuck out from under the semen stained sheets. As I looked I
also noticed some blood on the sheets. I was upset at first, but I thought
that I could clean it up while my family ate, and we could still make it to
the afternoon matinee.
Skipper talked incessantly, and kept smiling over at Ken. He seemed sleepy,
but ate well. They both ate well, and I was sure that I had been right in
letting them have some time together. I was sure now that I had a convert in
Skipper. The trick was for me to get her onto another guy, someone more her
age. That would let me have my Ken.
I had Skipper help me get ready, and Ursula shrunk us down to doll-size to
choose our outfits. I made sure that I selected for Skipper, and I was able
to make a very revealing outfit from a black danskin top, black hose, and a
fairly short, red plaid wrap-around skirt. I finished her by handing her
black low heeled pumps and some jewelry. She was happy trying on the
clothes, and was absolutely ecstatic when I suggested a little makeup for
our trip out. I think that this was due in a large part by the body that he
was trapped in. Like mine, it was influencing Stanley's mind and his
behavior accordingly. Sure, he had probably always had secret fantasies
about giving Daryl a blow job or even being fucked up the ass by him. That's
not what happened, though. She was making love to Ken, an almost perfect
man, and she was doing it as a woman, albeit as a young girl.
I took this moment to caution Skipper that if she showed abnormal attention
to Ken, then he could get in an awful lot of trouble. Stanley's persona
inside of Skipper understood perfectly well, but Skipper the deflowered
woman, barely old enough to have developed breasts, already felt the need
for a large dick inside of her. I understood this, and I knew that I had
Stanley. He would not give this up, even if it meant giving up Ken.
I dressed in a much more conservative sundress, and wore a large brimmed sun
hat and low white sandals. They let my red-stained toes poke out and felt so
girlish and fresh.
We went to the movie theater in Mr. Fagan's BMW. Ken drove and I sat in the
Passenger seat. Skipper and Ursula were in the back talking just like two
little girls. I hoped that this might mean that Skipper's pre-teen state was
influencing Stanley and that he would be more interested in boys that were
Skipper's apparent age.
I was right. At the theatre, there were several boys hanging around the
ticket counter, obviously waiting for some other movie. Skipper was suddenly
too embarrassed to stand with us and was mortified at the idea that we were
going to see a cartoon. Ken was irritated and I said that she could go see
another show, just meet up with us later. Ursula, Ken and I went into the
almost empty theater. Ken wanted to sit in the back, and Ursula wanted to
sit right up front. I said that she could if she sat still and let, "Mommy
and Daddy" sit in the back. She gave me a funny look, but smiled and skipped
off to the front of the theater. She never looked back once.
That was a good thing, too. As soon as the lights went down, I started
stroking Ken's penis through the blue jeans that he wore. After the coming
attractions, I had his fly unzipped and I was massaging his member in my
small white hands. Ken just moaned as I lowered my dark red stained lips to
his cock and started sucking and pumping on his tool.
I wanted it all, and I made sure that I took it all down my throat. It was
harder to do than I thought. Movies sure don't show you that you feel like
throwing up when the head of his dick pushes against the back of my throat.
I still did not have it all in, and I was determined to do so, so I pulled
him towards me with all my strength and his dick poked down my throat and, I
swear, I think that it was pointing straight at my stomach when his hot,
sticky load shot down my throat. The saltiness was evident in the smell and
in the sticky after cum that leaked from the tip of his cock. I sucked even
this out of him, and then carefully wiped him off with a tissue and adjusted
his zipper and pants. He immediately fell asleep. And I sat in the dark
playing with myself as I watched the cartoon fairies dance along the screen.
When we came out of the theater, I saw that two boys were talking to Skipper
and one of them had his arm around her waist. It looked so cute that I didn'
t want to interrupt them, so I told Ken to take Ursula to the car and start
the air conditioning. I would stay behind and watch over Skipper till she
was ready to go.
Eventually, I caught her eye and motioned for her to come. She turned to the
cute boy with his hand on her tiny ass and then he kissed her. It wasn't a
child's kiss either, I saw that he gave her some tongue. She was very
definitely interested in him and held his hand until the last minute. As
Skipper walked with me through the parking lot, I took this chance to seal
the deal.
"Listen, Stanley. I can tell that you are enjoying this. Don't you think
that there are worse ways of spending your summer? You get to swim in a pool
and stay in a great house, and I'll always take care of your bills and
clothes and even birth control. All I want from you is your promise that you
will continue to be Skipper for Ursula for a few hours a day. It won't even
be every day, you see that I am teaching her to let us be full sized
people."
Stanley stopped walking and considered. She said that she wanted one more
thing for her agreement to go along with this. She wanted to be Skipper all
the time. She didn't mind shrinking to doll size once in a while, but she
didn't ever want to be Stanley again. It's funny, but, as she expressed
these feelings, I realized that I didn't want to be Bobby again. I loved
being Barbie, a woman and a doll. I wanted Ken, and this time as his wife. I
wanted to be this perfect woman, and I knew that Ursula was the key to
giving me my dream.
On the way back to the house, I noticed that Skipper had brightened up, and
I was sure that she had made her decision, so I snuggled up next to Ken and
smiled into his chiseled, tanned face. He returned the smile and I reached
over to the radio with my red painted nails and flipped it on to a soft rock
channel. Ken drove home and I rested my hand on his thigh. I the back Ursula
and Skipper were talking quietly. We really were the perfect family, and I
could see the joy in Ursula's face. I looked around at all of their faces
and, I swear, I saw the same ecstatic look of joy on every face. I knew that
it was reflected in my own.
We got home and I fixed a light dinner of sandwiches and lemonade. We
watched some TV together, the girls resting upon cushions on the floor, and
Ken and I snuggled together on the sofa. The lights were low and I kept one
hand on his crotch the entire time. Finally, Ursula yawned and I took her up
to bed for the night. Ken and Skipper would stay in this form through the
night, unless Ursula awoke and reversed her incantation. Skipper might have
caused a scene, but she apparently decided to keep going along with the
plan, and she went into the spare bedroom adjoining Ursula's room.
I followed Ken to the master bedroom and locked the door behind me. I didn't
want Ursula or Skipper walking in on us. Ken disrobed and slipped on some
satin pajamas. I decided that I would try something a bit more provocative.
In my wardrobe was an outfit that I had purchased just for this night. It
consisted of a black lace bra and panty set and a very sexy black garter
belt that held up some black fishnet seamed hose. I had also picked up a
black boa that I draped across my bare white shoulders. I had put on a
powder green eyeshadow and blood red lipstick - with finger and toe nails
polished to match. I put on some clear slippers with black lowers and
"fuck-me" high heels. With my tiny toes showing through the opening in the
toes of the heels, and the dark red visible through the tight fish net, I
knew that I was a walking wet dream. I also knew that the last few days
events had completely disoriented Daryl and he was putty in my hands for
this evening.
Ken sat in bed, laying on the cool, satin sheets, and watching my every
move. I walked over to the bed with the most wiggle that I could put in my
bottom. My fanny was wagging in the air behind me. My pussy was already
quiet moist, and I licked my lips in anticipation of feeling his cock in my
wet, waiting mouth.
I pulled the sheet back and carefully pulled his long erect cock out of his
pajamas. I massaged his dick with my tiny white hands, and then straddled
his knees so that my titties were right in his face. He kissed my nipples
through the thin lace fabric of my bra, and his hands rested on my ass,
where he kneaded my fanny. I could feel my pussy get wetter, and I could
almost believe that my vagina was literally dripping for his cock.
Instead, he lowered himself to my crotch and put his lips right up to my
pussy. I felt his hot breath through the panties, and I started to grind my
hips into his face. His tongue played across my panties, and I felt his
saliva soaking through to my pussy lips. His nose nuzzled against my
clitoris and I grabbed his hair in my hands and carefully pumped his head
back and forth into my groin.
My lap was, by now, completely soaked with my own fuck juices, and I was
like a bitch in heat as I thrust his mouth and chin into my pussy. I wanted
to feel his long tongue deep inside of me. I could feel his teeth gently
nibble on my clitty, and I started to feel an orgasm building from deep
inside of my womb. I stifled a scream by biting my lower lip. I couldn't
stand it any longer.
I flipped the slippers off of my feet, and crawled onto the bed. I stayed
bent over, doggy style, and Ken took my signal and started to rub my pussy
with his hand from the rear while his other hand played with my titties. I
let my head down slowly to the bed, my fanny pointing into the air, and he
let a finger, which had been playing along the hem of my panties, slip past
that tenuous barrier and rub my pussy lips. I groaned and thrust my hips
backwards, allowing his finger to slip into my wet pussy.
I kept thrusting my bottom into his hand, virtually fucking his finger,
while I moaned in my girlish falsetto. My nipples tingled and my lips
quivered and I felt my face flush and my hips continued to pump rhythmically
as I fucked his hand and then I felt a release, almost like a balloon
popping and my first orgasm washed over me. It began deep in my womb, a
sudden release of muscles and a wetness that spread towards my pussy. My
fanny quaked as the spasms filled me and his hot cum squirted deep into my
body.
Electricity flowed from the depths of my orgasm to the tips of my erect
nipples. I whimpered, my face buried in the sleek satin sheets, my fanny in
the air, my sharp, tapered ruby red nails digging into the mattress as my
orgasm continued to wrack my nubile body. I was his fuck bunny. I was his
Barbie Doll.
His jism spurted from my pussy as the last of the contractions shook my
pussy lips, and it dripped down my smooth thigh. I felt Ken slap my bottom,
the snap of the sound almost made me cum again. I knew that he wanted more,
and I wanted him as well. First, I wanted to taste my fresh pussy juices on
his cock, though. I took the bra off and pulled the panties down to my
knees, but I had his stiff penis in my mouth before the panties hit the
floor.
I felt his tongue play with my clitty as I took his shaft deep into my
throat. I could feel the head of his dick rub the inside of my esophagus,
and had to suppress a gag. Feeling him lapping at my pussy helped, and
within moments I was pumping his cock deep into my throat.
Ken groaned. He was slapping my fanny with all his might, so much that I
could feel the blood rising and the warmth from his continuing slapping
mixed with a warmth that I felt in my pussy. I knew that my bottom was a
cherry red, and my pussy dripped with moisture, I so craved his cock in me.
[the first fuck scene with Barbie and Ken - first barbie gets dressed in
something sexy, then she and Ken do it all. This is a two pager.]
The next few days were a blast. We were almost always full-size, and Ursula
even let Ken and I go grocery shopping while she played with Skipper. My
plan had worked well, and Skipper had a very active social life. I was sure
that Stanley was enjoying this, since he had never been popular before.
Skipper really seemed to blossom, and I took it as tacit approval that I
could pursue my plans with Ken.
The month was almost over before we knew it. I was so happy. Ken kept me
well fucked, and Skipper obviously had gotten very much into her little
sister role. We often sat together doing our hair or nails. She sometimes
came running into my room late at night, dying to try on some of my
nighties. Most of them were just too large for her, but I found that I did
have a pink teddy that fit her pretty well. She didn't have the bust that I
had, but she had a good start, and the woman that she could be peeked out
from her pert, pink nipples with soft white little mounds.
One night, I was out at the pool house cleaning up. Ken had gone to bed and
Ursula was long since asleep. Skipper had taken a late night dip in the
pool, and came into the pool house to dry off.
There was a glass of white wine that I had left on the coffee table, and,
while I wasn't looking, Skipper took a few sips. While I made up the bed,
she stripped off her wet bikini and downed the glass of wine in a gulp. She
staggered for a moment, and then steadied herself on the door frame of the
bed room. I was bent over the bed, straightening the bedspread, and Skipper
was right behind me. Maybe some of Stanley still struggled with his
femininity, but, before I knew it, Skipper had moved behind me and reached
around and massaged my breasts.
Now, when full size, I am about a foot taller than Skipper, so the position
was awkward and couldn't have excited me, but I knew that Skipper was
feeling frisky and so I facilitated her desires by falling onto the freshly
made bed, my arms open and my lips smiling. She fell onto me, and I let her
tongue explore my mouth as her tiny fingers played with my nipples through
the thin silk blouse that I wore. I had not put on a bra, and my
well-endowed Barbie titties poked up, the nipples hard as pencil erasers
under her delicate fingering.
I rubbed my leg into her bare crotch, and before I knew it, she was
literally humping my leg. I tweaked one of her nipples, and she gasped and
pulled her saliva dripping mouth from mine.
Skipper looked me right in the eyes. For a moment everything ceased, our
bodies had interrupted their natural grinding motion. I waited to see what
she would say, but she merely smiled and then reached her hand down to my
pussy and started rubbing around my pussy lips, the tips of her slender
fingernails brushing my clitoris - that nub of sensation that made my body
weak and sent my legs to quivering.
I felt first one finger, then another slip into the tight, well-exercised
muscle that formed my vagina. Before I knew it she had edged yet one more
finger into me, and was moving her hand into me with lightning rapidity. My
legs spread open naturally, and I reached down and grasped her wrist with my
two hands and helped speed the thrusts into me. My womb was spasmodically
convulsing, and waves of my orgasm almost made me faint. I cried out with
the tiniest, "Oh." My pussy was dripping and I looked down and saw that her
entire fist was buried up to the wrist into me. I screamed and felt the
convulsions sweep through my abdomen. The electricity of my climax stretched
to the edges of my body - my skin tingled with the ecstatic feeling.
Now it was time for me to return the favor. I could tell that Skipper was
ready to have something long and hard inside of her sweet, young snatch, and
I was ready to oblige. I had prepared in advance, however, and reached under
the covers for a soft plastic phallus. It was a device that I had asked Ken
to get me - flesh toned and containing a small but powerful vibrator. The
plastic was particularly soft and pliable, but, when the vibrator was on, it
became harder and harder. I had some lubricant at the bedside. It was
flavored with a Pina Colada natural oil and the smell of coconuts filled the
boudoir.
Skipper was thrilled, she opened her young, near virginal pussy and
straddled me. I gently positioned the contrivance at the tip of her vagina,
and rubbed my moistened finger against her clitoris. I was rewarded with a
flood of her pussy juices flowing out of her tiny, near hairless slit. I
shoved the pseudo man into her carefully, watching her pink pussy lips
part - like the kisses of a maiden to her sailor as he goes to sea. She
moaned appreciatively, and I pushed it ever deeper into her. She gyrated her
hips, as the true fuck machine that I knew she would become, closing her
eyes, and licking her pouting lips. She came on my hand and the phallus that
I held like a young filly, the oils pouring out of her girly mound as her
orgasm swept her away. She bit down on her bottom lip and almost cried out,
but held her passion until the flood of her climax was over. Finally, with
a rush, she screamed as she came over and over until her funk dripped onto
my fingers.
The next morning, Skipper was in a great mood. She helped me make a lavish
breakfast for Ken and Ursula. Skipper sat down next to Ursula and tickled
her a bit. The two young girls played a bit and then dug into the eggs and
potatoes before them. I noticed that Skipper seemed to sincerely enjoy
playing dolly with Ursula now. She sometimes rewarded Ursula for a good day
or behavior by volunteering to be shrunk down to doll-size and letting
Ursula dress her and act out her little family fantasies.
At night, after Ursula had gone to bed, Skipper would snuggle with me under
the covers and tell me every detail of Ursula's play acting. After we made
our maidenly offering and moistened ourselves and the sheets, I would hurry
to Ken's bed, his strong arms and hardened shaft supporting me. At the
finish of the evening, as we held each other in a sweaty, sticky embrace, I
would think over the next day's activities. I don't think that I had any
plan in mind, I just didn't want the days (and especially the nights) to
end. I knew that the Summer would soon be over, and the Fagans were due back
soon.
The next day, I would carefully reinforce Ursula's view of us as the perfect
family. I knew that Ken and I were much more attentive than her parents had
been, at least as far as my experience with the household.
I did plan out one thing with Skipper. I wanted a special evening with Ken,
and I knew that the end of our magical summer was approaching, so she
promised to watch Ursula for a weekend so that Ken and I could get away. Ken
reserved a room at the Ritz-Carlton, the Honeymoon suite of all things. I
was so excited that I just had to get a new dress.
Skipper, Ursula and I went to the mall early that morning. We went to all
the department stores and tried on virtually every dress in the stores.
Skipper just had to try on all the young ladies dresses and was thrilled to
pose and twirl for Ursula and me. It was actually comic when Skipper entered
Victoria's Secret with me. She was just a little to ready to pick out the
trashiest lingerie. I tried to steer her towards some lovely slips and bras,
but she insisted on trying out some almost see through teddies and then she
put on this ridiculously loud yellow and orange bustier with matching plaid
thigh-high stockings that attached with garters. She did look positively
delicious, but she kept posing and moving as if she were some nightclub
stripper! I decided to let her have her fun - her time would be coming to
and end, too - and let her buy a few items.
Ursula was interested in only one thing, though - the toy store. It had a
complete Barbie display and she had always loved to pick things out. I
usually pretended to try and hold her back, but I always let her buy
something. After all, whatever outfit I let her pick would be one that I
would find myself wearing. A new model had just come out, an updated version
of "Beautiful Bride Barbie". This version was called "Modern Bride Barbie"
and she had a particularly short wedding gown with white hose, white heels,
and a diaphanous lace veil and train that fell to the hem of the mini-skirt.
When Ursula passed right by the new display, I was surprised. I even asked
her if she would like to see me wear a wedding dress like the one on the
doll, and she surprised me even more by answering, "But, Mommy, you and
Daddy are already married."
I was dumbfounded. She was serious. Well, I thought about it some, and
realized that we were acting as a real family. There was no reason for
Ursula to feel that we were "living in sin," as it were. She needn't even
concern herself with our situation - she was merely living this doll
fantasy, and was apparently coping with it admirably.
The days passed quickly and blissfully. Ken and I were like true newlyweds.
I enjoyed dressing up in the many dresses that Ursula came up with and Ken
always watched as I modeled for her. In fact, he would sit with Ursula as I
entertained them both. I often would surprise them with either a harem girl
costume that I modeled while belly-dancing; a nurse's uniform that I used in
a little skit of "playing doctor" with Ken; or an aerobics outfit that I
showed to them while getting my exercise. It never failed to turn both Ken
and I on and we invariably spent the next few hours removing the costume and
exploring each other's bodies. Ursula spent this time with Skipper, as I was
to find out.
You see, Skipper had been so jealous of Ken and I, initially, that she tried
to seduce him. Unfortunately for her, she had a less developed teenager's
body, and Ken was irresistibly attracted to my true woman's body. I guess
she had as much right as I to enjoy her new true femininity, and met a guy.
She had taken Ursula to the mall to look at toys and get "ideas" for her
Barbie collection. A striking, dark young man approached Skipper and
complimented her on her clothes. She responded as any young girl on the
rebound would, and soon they had dropped Ursula at home and went out for
dinner and a movie. I didn't know about this at the time, I have to confess
that I was paying not a bit of attention to Skipper. It wasn't until Ursula
mentioned it to me over dinner days later that I realized that our little
family might be disrupted.
I knew that the Fagans could be back in only a week or two, and I wanted to
assess the damage that might have happened if Skipper let our secret out.
Ken and I talked it over. He was just as concerned as I. We decided to
invite this boy over for dinner and Skipper seemed receptive to the idea.
The next night found me getting ready for a somewhat critical meal, and I
pulled out all the stops.
I spent the entire day shopping for dinner with Skipper. We decided on some
nice stuffed Cornish Game Hens with Wild Rice and a nice refreshing melon
salad. While I picked out the food, Skipper opened up and told me something
about her friend. His name was George, and he was quite a bit older than
she, at least in her Skipper persona. She said that he was quite mature and
distinguished, and he had been very excited when she told him about the
invitation.
After we put the groceries away, Skipper and I fixed each other's hair and
helped with our choices for dresses and makeup. She chose a very flattering
black dress with a pattern of gold and white flowers. It was a freely open
pleated skirt that really showed off my long slim legs. The one thing that I
still liked the most about being Barbie was the exquisitely long and slender
legs that I had now. My sheer sandalwood hose shone as if sprinkled with
glitter, and my sharp black patent leather pumps set off the colors in the
dress perfectly. I showed Skipper an adorable sky-blue dress that she had in
her closet. She had never tried it on, but she saw that the color really did
highlight her eyes and beautiful hair.
We finished by going all out on Skipper's makeup. I told her that she looked
perfect and she beamed. We chose powder blue shadow, more eyeliner than I
would have advised, and incredibly long false eyelashes. I would have
thought the total look would be entirely ludicrous, but I couldn't have been
more wrong. She looked exactly like an exciting, vivacious young woman of 17
or 18. She beamed again when I told her this, and we hugged the most
sisterly hug that I could imagine. I felt that we might be real sisters
under the skin, and I suppose Skipper felt the same.
I set the best china and silverware at the place settings. The crystal
service was pulled out and dusted and the entire dining table looked
exquisite. I folded the linen napkins into attractive rosettes and had just
lighted the tapered candles when the doorbell chimed.
Skipper fairly flew down the stairs, almost tripping on the high heels that
she had chosen for the evening. I smiled behind my hand and Ken stepped
beside me and put his arm around my waist. I could see Ursula watching from
through the upstairs banister. There was a strange constriction about her
face, and I wondered at it for just a moment until my gaze settled on
Skipper opening the large oak doors to reveal George.
I almost fainted when I realized that it was George Fagan, my schoolmate and
Ursula's older brother. He had an evil grin on his face and must have been
speaking as he approached me, but I could not hear a sound. I knew that
Skipper and Ken had no idea whom was in our midst. He must have realized
that I was the only one that knew for he stepped directly to me and touched
my hand. The moment that he did I found myself speechless. Even worse, I
realized as he lifted my hand to his lips, I was completely under his
control and was starting to curtsey his gallant overture. I was blushing
like a school girl. I knew that it would be impossible for me to signal Ken
and Skipper, and I used every bit of will power to glance up at Ursula. She
was contorted in pain, but seemed frozen as surely as I.
It was a true walking nightmare as George put my hand in the crook of his
arm and led me to the table, decorated with his own family's possessions. As
his puppet, I simply smiled and accompanied him and even found my eyes
lowering so as not to meet his gaze. He was in complete control, I realized
as he pushed my chair in for me and I saw my delicate hands snap the linen
napkin and place it carefully on my lap.
George walked around the table and seemed to be speaking to Ken. He reached
out to shake his hand and I saw Ken's eyes glaze over. Ken sat abruptly, and
stared straight ahead, seeing through me, although I sat right across from
him.
Finally, George helped Skipper to sit next to him, and he sat at the head of
the table. He looked directly at me and smiled, then sipped at the Merlot
that Ken had poured for him. He sat back and spoke to me with his smirk
still on his thin lips.
"Well, Bobby. I guess you have gone through quite a few changes while I was
away. I was surprised to find the situation when I returned home last week,
but I decided to investigate rather than act rashly. It is a good thing that
I did or I wouldn't have been able to negate Ursula's sphere of influence.
As it is, your own appetites were your undoing. You see, 'Skipper' seems to
have had a long standing . interest, shall we say? . in your friend 'Ken'
here. She was more than willing to explain the entire series of events to
me. Thus, I was able to neutralize Ursula from a distance and take control
of the situation. All she wants in return," at this he reached towards her
and raised her chin with his open hand. She looked directly at him and
smiled. He continued, while looking now at her," All she wants in return is
the 'object of her desire'. Quite an amusing turn of phrase. So I readily
agreed and here we are.
"Now, I don't really blame you Bobby. It was mostly Ursula's doing. You
couldn't deny your taking advantage of the situation, though. No. The way I
see it, you have enough responsibility to warrant some type of lesson. Now
Ken is an interesting additional character. He was certainly not aware of
the environment into which you invited him, but he just as certainly
received his pleasure from it. I see no reason for him to be punished, yet
his deportment will require some finesse. Also, surely Skipper here deserves
her heart's desire, as I interpret it. Finally, Ursula must be controlled so
that this never happens again, yet she is my younger sister and requires
care as any young girl would."
He thought a moment and drank more of the wine. Then he reached over and
drank mine. Finally, he put the empty glass down and stood up.
"I have made my decision. It will be tricky, but I believe that it is
warranted. Goodbye, Bobby. May your future life lead you towards a more
enlightened state."
He raised his hands and golden sparks started to surround all of us. My
hands became numb, then my legs and arms, finally I felt like I was floating
around and around in a vortex of golden sparks. I felt my sense of balance
slip completely, and I closed my eyes so that I wouldn't have to see what
was happening. I guess I passed out.
When I awoke, I was in a mussed bed alone. There was a deep impression in
the mattress next to me and I heard a shower begin in an adjoining room. I
pulled the covers off my still tight, young body, and slipped my tiny feet
into the puffy pink slippers that my husband bought for me last Christmas. I
remember when Ursula, our daughter, unwrapped her present from Santa while I
was opening the slippers and trying them on. It was a Barbie doll and she
frowned and threw it across the room. Ken, my husband and Ursula's daddy,
retrieved it and asked her why she was so angry.
"I hate Barbie, Daddy. I never want to see one."
She looked up at me with confusion in her eyes and continued seriously,
"Besides, Mommy is our own Barbie, isn't she, Daddy?"
Ken hugged me through my robe and agreed.
George was in his room in the old mansion. His mother and father had been
very angry about the situation while they had been gone. They had insisted
on checking on Ursula and her new "parents", and then they were satisfied
that he had made the right choice. He had carefully neglected to tell them
about Skipper, and he chuckled to himself. He looked across the room at her.
She was bound in leather gags, blinds, and straps. Thin golden chains led
from clasps on the posts of the bed to golden loops that pierced her
nipples. Her ankles were bound with rough ropes to the bottom posts of the
bed. She moaned her ecstasy as an array of electric vibrators and butt plugs
reverberated in her orifices. She was his personal toy for his sexual
fantasies, and she had been remade to enjoy every deviant idea that entered
his head. He downed a drink and picked up an eighteen inch black dildo and
approached her. It was surprising how few people knew what their "heart's
desire" really was.
The End
Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton)
>A New Barbie
>By Sharon T.
If you are the author, I can archive it at
Http://www.ateros.com/bigcloset/stories.html
Or rather the editor there, Lainie Lee will archive it. But we need
permission from the author and your header does not quite declare you
to be the author.
Joyce
-- Read any NaughtyWords lately?
http://naughtywords.com
http://ateros.com
SharonT
stories are copyright 2000 by SharonT (ME).
Thanks in advance.
This post constitutes permission to reproduce my works of fiction without
conditions.
Sharon T
Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton) <Jo...@qnez.com> wrote in message
news:4ov28s0dued1eu1ot...@4ax.com...
> "REVENGE" <aur...@ragemail.com> wrote:
>
> >A New Barbie
> >By Sharon T.
>
SharonT
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------
The following is a work of Adult Fiction, and, as such, may
contain adult sexual situations which may be considered offensive
by some. If you are under the legal age in your location or if you
find sexual explicit fiction to be offensive, then I encourage you to
STOP READING NOW.
Otherwise, the following is Copyright January, 2000 by Sharon Tipton
and may be duplicated or re-transmitted as long as it is unchanged.
Also, this text must be included in any re-posting.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------
By Sharon T.
My name was . . . is . . . well, at one time, my name was Bobby. It's always
Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton)
>Please post my stories ("A New Barbie" and "The Society of Concubines"). The
>stories are copyright 2000 by SharonT (ME).
>Thanks in advance.
>This post constitutes permission to reproduce my works of fiction without
>conditions.
>Sharon T
>
>Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton) <Jo...@qnez.com> wrote in message
>news:4ov28s0dued1eu1ot...@4ax.com...
>> "REVENGE" <aur...@ragemail.com> wrote:
>>
>> >A New Barbie
>> >By Sharon T.
>>
>> If you are the author, I can archive it at
>> Http://www.ateros.com/bigcloset/stories.html
>> Or rather the editor there, Lainie Lee will archive it. But we need
>> permission from the author and your header does not quite declare you
>> to be the author.
>>
>> Joyce
>> -- Read any NaughtyWords lately?
>> http://naughtywords.com
>> http://ateros.com
>
Thank you very much, Sharon. The editor of BigCloset has been sent
your two stories for inclusion.
Love,
SharonT
Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton) <Jo...@qnez.com> wrote in message
news:oam58ssaadi854lgi...@4ax.com...
> "SharonT" <Sha...@ragemail.SPAM.com> wrote:
>
> >Please post my stories ("A New Barbie" and "The Society of Concubines").
The
> >stories are copyright 2000 by SharonT (ME).
> >Thanks in advance.
> >This post constitutes permission to reproduce my works of fiction without
> >conditions.
> >Sharon T
> >
> >Erin Halfelven (Joyce Melton) <Jo...@qnez.com> wrote in message
> >news:4ov28s0dued1eu1ot...@4ax.com...
> >> "REVENGE" <aur...@ragemail.com> wrote:
> >>
> >> >A New Barbie
> >> >By Sharon T.
> >>