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Literature Text
Maria began the day’s work for the same way she did every morning: by opening up a thin brown journal. She had filled the book with names and pictures of dolls, marionettes, and other assorted toys. Maria left brief descriptions near each one. Notes such as, “looking for love, sell to a Ken,” next to a Barbie dressed in pink, and “BFF, sell together,” next to a set of colorful rag dolls. That one had a check mark next to it.
And though the toys in the journal came in a multitude of shapes and sizes, they shared one trait that no one outside the store would know. Each of these dolls had once been people, and were now just toys. And Maria intended that each of these wonderful toys deserved wonderful new homes. So she started each day reviewing what to look for in new owners for these dolls.
As she finished her ritual, Maria looked up and saw a perfect someone walk into the store. Not an owner, she knew instinctively, but a wonderful new doll who had yet to realize what she really was.
Jules moved down the mall concourse, almost power walking in her black flats that were her one pair of non-work shoes. Jules wasn’t in a hurry, she just walked fast naturally and dove around dawdlers who chatted or ate while they enjoyed the mall sights. But Jules wasn’t here to see the decorations, or eat, she was here to buy . . . something. Something that escaped her mind at the moment. But the woman was sure she would know it when she saw it.
Jules’s phone ba-dupped at her as she maneuvered around a three person family, almost tripped over the running girl, and only stopped moving when she read the bad news on the phone’s screen: “Hit a snag. We need you ASAP” Jules slumped her shoulders. Another night gone. Still, she could get what she needed quickly and get back to work . . .
Jules looked up and was wide eyed at the store she was in. Instead of the Brookstone she was supposed to go to, Jules stood in the middle of a bright toy store. The shelves and front desk were cut from dark brown wood and images of toys carved on their faces. The red carpeting gave a regal tone to the simple store, and the toys themselves were old, new, and everything in between.
The shop was quiet on this Tuesday night, most customers having been scared away by the threat of storms, and Jules was one of four customers in the store. A woman sat behind the counter, head on her hands, looking out into the shop.
“Need help?” she asked Jules, who shook her head in response. With the matter dropped, Jules started walking again. But instead of leaving the store, she made her way deeper inside, which was strange, since Jules had long grown out of toy stores and the toys inside. She thought collecting them a waste, and playing with them childish. Not that Jules went out of her way to be very adult, but she had forgotten the simple joys of play.
She turned to her right, walking down the main aisle away from the counter and registers, and saw a large display centered on a oak toy chest. The mural on this chest showed the silhouette of Peter Pan with his sword held out in front of his body and leg behind. “Adventure Awaits!” the display proclaimed in raised letters.
The toys on the top of the heap lived up to that bold statement. Superheroes in colorful cloth, pirates with surly stitched grins, and knights in plastic armor looked back at Jules. After taking a look to the toys near the top of the box, she decided to dig inside to see what she might find.
Jules knelt down and drove her left arm deep into the packed box, reached to the bottom and began to feel around for something interesting. She squeezed plush arms and brushed feathery accessories, but her fingers found nothing . Jules shook her head and wondered what she was doing. She was an adult, digging through a toy box for . . . what, exactly? A toy she just wouldn't know what to do with anymore?
She sighed and pulled her arm back out of the box. What was she doing here? Jules pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and thought about what might have happened at work. That’s when she noticed her hand. The hand that had gone into the toy box came back out covered in a long cloth glove.
Jules wondered how she came to be wearing the glove as she started to pull it off. Except, she couldn’t pull it off. She pulled from her gloved hand and felt a twinge of pain up above her elbow. She looked and her mouth dropped open when she saw the cloth of the tan glove had woven itself into her skin. She wasn’t wearing a glove at all, Jules realized, her skin had turned to cloth!
The woman tried to stand up, but her legs wobbled as a tickling sensation ran through them. When she came down, Jules saw her skinny jeans melt away, exposing long tan legs made from cloth. Though round and shapely, there was an undeniable softness to her legs, like they were filled with stuffing or foam.
Stranger still was that the cloth of her lower legs became thicker and more lightly colored. Tassels rung the top of the boots, and the skin below turned to a buckskin-like color. Jules’ feet plumped and rounded more so than the rest of her body, making her ankles difficult to see at certain angles.
“The hell with this.” Jules said, forcing herself up and finding balance on her plush legs.She took a step. And another. Except she didn’t seem to be going anywhere because her body had begun to shrink, and each step barely overcame the distance she had lost since the process began. Finally, realizing she couldn’t get anywhere, Jules stopped. She rubbed her head with her plush hand, wondering what to do, wondering how to stop this while her body continued to betray her.
She squirmed at the tickling sensation coming from all across her torso. She saw her chest shifting around. Her breasts, held more or less firm by her bra, squished together, leaving her with a uniboob. Jules’ body curved beautifully down to her waist and out once again with her hips; Then a spot of light tan cloth appeared at the center of her black shirt, and spread out from there.
Her blouse changed shape, with the sleeves and neckline receding, stopping just above her stuffing breasts. Tassels fell from the top of the dress and began dancing with every move she made. The shirt also lengthened, falling in a V shape that reached almost to her knees. The edge there also split into dozens of white tassels. A belt of dark brown and embroidered with blue stars came into existence around Jules’ waist.
The cloth that was now her skin continued to march upward, surrounding her neck. It had a rhythmic movement that tickled Jules. She quivered as it moved up onto her face and closed her eyes. She felt her mouth pulled into a bright, doll-like smile. Her nose softened a little into her cheeks. Rows of stitches replaced her eyebrows. Her hair turned black and fell in a long ponytail down to her waist.
Jules held her breath; a strange thing to do when you don’t have lungs. She opened her eyes and braved to look at her new body. She still had five working fingers, all the correct proportions. Her body was the same way, though perhaps softened by the stuffing. But the buckskin dress and boots were sewn into her skin. She tried, once or twice, to try and pull something off. She even pulled at the fabric that made up her fingers again and felt a pain from the stitches all the way along her arm.
“But daaaad, I don’t want a Barbie. They’re all pink and girly and stuff.” Jules’ head shot up from her inspection of her new body. She heard a girl’s voice nearby, and now that she was a toy, the thought of a child seeing chilled her stuffing.
She backed away from the voice, which came from a nearby aisle, and Jules ran to hide next to the now towering toy box that had first changed her.
“Mel, honey, what’s wrong with a Barbie doll?”
“Mom says they warp my self-image and impose stifling gender roles on kids.” Jules blinked her cloth eyes at what she had just heard.
The doll heard the fathers exacerbated sigh, “Honey, do you even know what that means?”
“It means Barbies are dumb and I don’t want one!” The girl cried, and then came running around the corner. Jules froze where she stood and looked up at the towering child, amazed and a little frightened. The girl had short brown hair and a tomboy pair of overalls and t-shirt.
Jules stayed perfectly still and hoped to not to attract the attention of the giant, human girl. But the child’s eyes sought out and found the best toy in the store. The giant, colorful letters on the toy box attracted her just as they had Jules, and the toy backed away so she would be harder to see. She pushed her plush body against the box and heard and felt arms larger than she was move through the display. Jules had the odd sensation of her plush heart beating faster.
Then she heard soft steps come up to the display box. Jules looked to see a pair of black ballet flats and jeans come and stand next to the girl. She looked up and up and up to see a freckled woman in a red apron.
“Is there a particular doll you’re looking for?” She asked with a sweet voice.
Jules couldn’t see the girl from her vantage point, but heard her clear as day, “I dunno. My dad wants to get me a Barbie, but I think they are too girly.”
The employee nodded and knelt down next to the girl. And then she turned and looked down, her body tilted slightly so she could see around the edge of the box. Jules stared up into the twinkling eyes of the woman. And the woman smiled at her. A knowing smile, as if she knew that the Indian rag doll had once been human.
“Have you looked over her.” She said, pointing to the cubby where Jules was hiding, “sometimes the best toys fall out of the box.”
Jules’ stitched mouth almost fell open. The woman knew, and didn’t care. No, that wasn’t right. The woman wanted to sell Jules. Sell her like she was just a simple, common rag doll. And as the girl looked over the edge of the box, Jules had no choice. She bolted like a mouse, and she had nowhere to go but out into the open.
Her tiny plush legs carried her out in front of the display and Jules made a break toward the long aisles and their hopefully deep shelves. Maybe, if she could get behind the other dolls, maybe she could hide, and maybe she would not be bought. But the little girl was running from appeared in front of her, and she knelt down to catch the running doll.
Jules started to backpedal, but her stuffed cloth feet simply couldn’t respond in time. She fell on her back and slid right into giant, waiting hands. Fingers coiled around Jules, pushing the stuffing in her abdomen out of place. Sealing her fate as a simple toy.
Jules was picked up and raised so she could stare into the brown irises of her giant owner, and she saw the excitement in them.
“Do you like her?” The employee asked.
“I love her,” The girl said, her voice in breathless awe and eyes large in wonderment. Jules wrapped her cloth hands around the girl’s giant hand. A part of her -- most of her -- didn’t want to be owned or be a doll. But she realized a part of her was ready to let go the trials and tribulations of life. And as she was held by this giant eight year old girl, Jules felt more and more of her body feel okay about being a doll.
In a flash, Jules saw her new life with this girl. She saw that she would be played with and held close for months and years to come. She would see the world anew again through young eyes. And Jules even saw her the times when she was put away in cardboard boxes and attics. But those didn’t scare her, because Jules knew she would get a new owner someday.
And once she saw this, Jules realized the stitched smile on her cloth face was real. Her fear floated away and she relaxed in her owner’s hand. And the girl who would be her first owner spun around and ran back to her father, waving Jules like a flag in the wind.
Adventure awaited.
And though the toys in the journal came in a multitude of shapes and sizes, they shared one trait that no one outside the store would know. Each of these dolls had once been people, and were now just toys. And Maria intended that each of these wonderful toys deserved wonderful new homes. So she started each day reviewing what to look for in new owners for these dolls.
As she finished her ritual, Maria looked up and saw a perfect someone walk into the store. Not an owner, she knew instinctively, but a wonderful new doll who had yet to realize what she really was.
Jules moved down the mall concourse, almost power walking in her black flats that were her one pair of non-work shoes. Jules wasn’t in a hurry, she just walked fast naturally and dove around dawdlers who chatted or ate while they enjoyed the mall sights. But Jules wasn’t here to see the decorations, or eat, she was here to buy . . . something. Something that escaped her mind at the moment. But the woman was sure she would know it when she saw it.
Jules’s phone ba-dupped at her as she maneuvered around a three person family, almost tripped over the running girl, and only stopped moving when she read the bad news on the phone’s screen: “Hit a snag. We need you ASAP” Jules slumped her shoulders. Another night gone. Still, she could get what she needed quickly and get back to work . . .
Jules looked up and was wide eyed at the store she was in. Instead of the Brookstone she was supposed to go to, Jules stood in the middle of a bright toy store. The shelves and front desk were cut from dark brown wood and images of toys carved on their faces. The red carpeting gave a regal tone to the simple store, and the toys themselves were old, new, and everything in between.
The shop was quiet on this Tuesday night, most customers having been scared away by the threat of storms, and Jules was one of four customers in the store. A woman sat behind the counter, head on her hands, looking out into the shop.
“Need help?” she asked Jules, who shook her head in response. With the matter dropped, Jules started walking again. But instead of leaving the store, she made her way deeper inside, which was strange, since Jules had long grown out of toy stores and the toys inside. She thought collecting them a waste, and playing with them childish. Not that Jules went out of her way to be very adult, but she had forgotten the simple joys of play.
She turned to her right, walking down the main aisle away from the counter and registers, and saw a large display centered on a oak toy chest. The mural on this chest showed the silhouette of Peter Pan with his sword held out in front of his body and leg behind. “Adventure Awaits!” the display proclaimed in raised letters.
The toys on the top of the heap lived up to that bold statement. Superheroes in colorful cloth, pirates with surly stitched grins, and knights in plastic armor looked back at Jules. After taking a look to the toys near the top of the box, she decided to dig inside to see what she might find.
Jules knelt down and drove her left arm deep into the packed box, reached to the bottom and began to feel around for something interesting. She squeezed plush arms and brushed feathery accessories, but her fingers found nothing . Jules shook her head and wondered what she was doing. She was an adult, digging through a toy box for . . . what, exactly? A toy she just wouldn't know what to do with anymore?
She sighed and pulled her arm back out of the box. What was she doing here? Jules pushed her brown hair out of her eyes and thought about what might have happened at work. That’s when she noticed her hand. The hand that had gone into the toy box came back out covered in a long cloth glove.
Jules wondered how she came to be wearing the glove as she started to pull it off. Except, she couldn’t pull it off. She pulled from her gloved hand and felt a twinge of pain up above her elbow. She looked and her mouth dropped open when she saw the cloth of the tan glove had woven itself into her skin. She wasn’t wearing a glove at all, Jules realized, her skin had turned to cloth!
The woman tried to stand up, but her legs wobbled as a tickling sensation ran through them. When she came down, Jules saw her skinny jeans melt away, exposing long tan legs made from cloth. Though round and shapely, there was an undeniable softness to her legs, like they were filled with stuffing or foam.
Stranger still was that the cloth of her lower legs became thicker and more lightly colored. Tassels rung the top of the boots, and the skin below turned to a buckskin-like color. Jules’ feet plumped and rounded more so than the rest of her body, making her ankles difficult to see at certain angles.
“The hell with this.” Jules said, forcing herself up and finding balance on her plush legs.She took a step. And another. Except she didn’t seem to be going anywhere because her body had begun to shrink, and each step barely overcame the distance she had lost since the process began. Finally, realizing she couldn’t get anywhere, Jules stopped. She rubbed her head with her plush hand, wondering what to do, wondering how to stop this while her body continued to betray her.
She squirmed at the tickling sensation coming from all across her torso. She saw her chest shifting around. Her breasts, held more or less firm by her bra, squished together, leaving her with a uniboob. Jules’ body curved beautifully down to her waist and out once again with her hips; Then a spot of light tan cloth appeared at the center of her black shirt, and spread out from there.
Her blouse changed shape, with the sleeves and neckline receding, stopping just above her stuffing breasts. Tassels fell from the top of the dress and began dancing with every move she made. The shirt also lengthened, falling in a V shape that reached almost to her knees. The edge there also split into dozens of white tassels. A belt of dark brown and embroidered with blue stars came into existence around Jules’ waist.
The cloth that was now her skin continued to march upward, surrounding her neck. It had a rhythmic movement that tickled Jules. She quivered as it moved up onto her face and closed her eyes. She felt her mouth pulled into a bright, doll-like smile. Her nose softened a little into her cheeks. Rows of stitches replaced her eyebrows. Her hair turned black and fell in a long ponytail down to her waist.
Jules held her breath; a strange thing to do when you don’t have lungs. She opened her eyes and braved to look at her new body. She still had five working fingers, all the correct proportions. Her body was the same way, though perhaps softened by the stuffing. But the buckskin dress and boots were sewn into her skin. She tried, once or twice, to try and pull something off. She even pulled at the fabric that made up her fingers again and felt a pain from the stitches all the way along her arm.
“But daaaad, I don’t want a Barbie. They’re all pink and girly and stuff.” Jules’ head shot up from her inspection of her new body. She heard a girl’s voice nearby, and now that she was a toy, the thought of a child seeing chilled her stuffing.
She backed away from the voice, which came from a nearby aisle, and Jules ran to hide next to the now towering toy box that had first changed her.
“Mel, honey, what’s wrong with a Barbie doll?”
“Mom says they warp my self-image and impose stifling gender roles on kids.” Jules blinked her cloth eyes at what she had just heard.
The doll heard the fathers exacerbated sigh, “Honey, do you even know what that means?”
“It means Barbies are dumb and I don’t want one!” The girl cried, and then came running around the corner. Jules froze where she stood and looked up at the towering child, amazed and a little frightened. The girl had short brown hair and a tomboy pair of overalls and t-shirt.
Jules stayed perfectly still and hoped to not to attract the attention of the giant, human girl. But the child’s eyes sought out and found the best toy in the store. The giant, colorful letters on the toy box attracted her just as they had Jules, and the toy backed away so she would be harder to see. She pushed her plush body against the box and heard and felt arms larger than she was move through the display. Jules had the odd sensation of her plush heart beating faster.
Then she heard soft steps come up to the display box. Jules looked to see a pair of black ballet flats and jeans come and stand next to the girl. She looked up and up and up to see a freckled woman in a red apron.
“Is there a particular doll you’re looking for?” She asked with a sweet voice.
Jules couldn’t see the girl from her vantage point, but heard her clear as day, “I dunno. My dad wants to get me a Barbie, but I think they are too girly.”
The employee nodded and knelt down next to the girl. And then she turned and looked down, her body tilted slightly so she could see around the edge of the box. Jules stared up into the twinkling eyes of the woman. And the woman smiled at her. A knowing smile, as if she knew that the Indian rag doll had once been human.
“Have you looked over her.” She said, pointing to the cubby where Jules was hiding, “sometimes the best toys fall out of the box.”
Jules’ stitched mouth almost fell open. The woman knew, and didn’t care. No, that wasn’t right. The woman wanted to sell Jules. Sell her like she was just a simple, common rag doll. And as the girl looked over the edge of the box, Jules had no choice. She bolted like a mouse, and she had nowhere to go but out into the open.
Her tiny plush legs carried her out in front of the display and Jules made a break toward the long aisles and their hopefully deep shelves. Maybe, if she could get behind the other dolls, maybe she could hide, and maybe she would not be bought. But the little girl was running from appeared in front of her, and she knelt down to catch the running doll.
Jules started to backpedal, but her stuffed cloth feet simply couldn’t respond in time. She fell on her back and slid right into giant, waiting hands. Fingers coiled around Jules, pushing the stuffing in her abdomen out of place. Sealing her fate as a simple toy.
Jules was picked up and raised so she could stare into the brown irises of her giant owner, and she saw the excitement in them.
“Do you like her?” The employee asked.
“I love her,” The girl said, her voice in breathless awe and eyes large in wonderment. Jules wrapped her cloth hands around the girl’s giant hand. A part of her -- most of her -- didn’t want to be owned or be a doll. But she realized a part of her was ready to let go the trials and tribulations of life. And as she was held by this giant eight year old girl, Jules felt more and more of her body feel okay about being a doll.
In a flash, Jules saw her new life with this girl. She saw that she would be played with and held close for months and years to come. She would see the world anew again through young eyes. And Jules even saw her the times when she was put away in cardboard boxes and attics. But those didn’t scare her, because Jules knew she would get a new owner someday.
And once she saw this, Jules realized the stitched smile on her cloth face was real. Her fear floated away and she relaxed in her owner’s hand. And the girl who would be her first owner spun around and ran back to her father, waving Jules like a flag in the wind.
Adventure awaited.
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Top to bottom, this is the newest Ye Olde Toys story, and one of my favorites, and not just because its a rag doll tale. I think the kid is hilarious, and the sequence where Jules is caught adorable.
One of these days, I swear, you'll get to see one of these toys actually bought and played with.
More Ye Olde Toys Stories
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One of these days, I swear, you'll get to see one of these toys actually bought and played with.
More Ye Olde Toys Stories
Price Tag
Boxed
The Complete Set
Into the Box
Strung-Up
© 2012 - 2024 Senor-Refresho
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So becoming a doll makes you want to be owned?