The Doll

Author's Note:
When I started writing this, it was intended as an 18+ story, 300 words or less, for a contest:

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  (13+) Enter your story of 300 words or less. #896794 by Arakun the Twisted Raccoon

However, once I started writing it, I realized that it was going to be a longer story and would definitely not be able to stay in the 18+ or under guideline, let alone be told in 300 words. This is still a work in progress, so keep that in mind if you are reading it before I finish it. Any ideas or feedback on what is here, so far, is always welcome. Thank you!



"Bob, I don't like this place."

"Dammit, Susan. It's just another store. Why do you always have to complain about everything?"

"It smells funny in here, like something died."

"You're imagining things. Now come on, I've been looking forward to being able to afford this for a long time. Don't push me, Susan."

Susan hung her head and followed her overbearing husband to the back of the store. A feeling of dread hung over her like a thunder cloud. She resisted the urge to turn and run, screaming from this dark, musty store, knowing his temper and what would be sure to happen if she crossed him.

She stood, meekly, by his side as he looked over the merchandise on the back shelf. He had talked about this purchase for months, griping at her for not making enough money, for spending too much money on "non-essentials". Of course, to him, everything in their home was non-essential these days, since he'd seen the item he was now holding in his arms.

The store owner, a creepy man in his seventies, had whispered of it late one night as Bob had browsed through the many toys and DVDs the store had to offer.

The man had insisted there was nothing in the world a man could ever need more than the strange looking object Bob was holding. It was insanely expensive, almost one thousand dollars before tax. Susan had begged Bob to reconsider this purchase, a purchase she considered unnecessary and even a little insulting.

Bob ignored her as usual. Carrying the large, Virtual Girl, to the counter, he whipped out their Visa and paid for the gaudy looking thing. Susan held back tears as they walked back out to the car, in silence.

When they arrived home, Bob lovingly removed the almost lifelike woman from the package and tentatively touched it's soft, fake skin.

"Leave us alone, Susan," he growled. "Now!"
"But, Bob..." she nearly choked on her words as the fake woman suddenly turned and favored Susan with an evil glare.

Susan backed up, quickly. What the hell was happening here? This was completely insane. She must be dreaming, that was it.

She tried to turn away, but she felt as if her legs had turned to cement. Her eyes refused to close, even as they filled with hot, bitter tears. The doll's eyes began to glow red, hot embers burning into Susan's soul as she stood there, helplessly. Then, thankfully, the world went dark.


"I can't move, help!" Susan cried out, but heard no sound. She could scream, but only inside her own head. She could see her bed, but she found she could not move. It was as if she had been frozen in place. Her husband was on the bed, but not alone. Her eyes felt fuzzy, her sight unfocused, but she could see well enough to understand what the bastard was doing...right in front of her! She wanted to cry, scream, beg, but no sound escaped her lips.

She watched, angry and helpless as the woman, who looked just like Susan herself, from behind anyway, rode her husband like a pony. She could hear their moans, grunts, the dirty words they were saying to each other. How could he be so sick and perverted? How could he cheat on her, as she watched, and feel no remorse?

The woman tilted her head back and uttered a hoarse scream as she climaxed, then turned to her and grinned. A malevolent smile that sent goosebumps down Susan's spine, if she actually had a spine anymore. She was no longer sure of anything. Was this real? A dream?

The woman climbed off of Bob and walked over to Susan. She was the spitting image of her, except for the eyes. The eyes were black, no color, no emotion, just deep, empty pools of darkness. Susan would have cowered, if she could have moved even so much as an inch. Instead, she sat, fearfully, waiting to see what this strange doppelganger would do next.

Her evil twin reached past her and picked something up off of the dresser.
It was Susan's handheld mirror. Suddenly frightened, wanting to close her eyes, but being unable to do so, Susan watched in terror as the mirror was brought close to her face. Her eyes, wide and unmoving looked helpless and terrified, frozen forever in fear. Her mouth was stuck in a permanent "O". Her body a perversion, obviously designed only for male pleasure.

She wanted, desperately, to scream, to beg, to tell her husband how much she loved him. Crying inside, she watched Bob stand up and come towards her.

"I'm sorry, darling," he smiled, belying his words. "You never did much like sex. Always just lying there, silent and sullen. Things really won't change all that much for you. I'm returning you to the store, unused. I'm sure someone will come along and buy you. He won't mind at all that you just sit there. Goodbye, my dear."

Three months later

Susan wanted to vomit. Her husband had been right. The man who ended up buying her didn't mind at all that she didn't move, talk or show any feelings. He was a selfish, unattractive man, who couldn't keep a girlfriend. A true misogynist, he used her three to four times a day. His beer gut pushing against her fake skin, his hairy penis violating her mouth hole more than the other holes.

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought, if I was just a doll. If I couldn't taste his sweat, smell his nasty flatulence, see his ugly face and his flabby body. I wish I could die.