Crystal's StorySite


My Playmate

by Jennifer White


Tim looked at the bicycle, and couldn't decide if he wanted it or not. It appeared to be in good condition, but you never know when you buy something at a garage sale. He decided that it would be too hard to fix a 10-speed if there was a problem, so he gave up, and started to leave. There were several other sales on the same block this weekend, and he wanted to check out the next house too, which looked promising.

But as he walked away, he heard a young girl's voice.

"Don't you want to play with me?"

He turned, but didn't see anyone but the old lady minding the table. He shook his head. He must have imagined it. How weird!

"Please, you in the blue shirt, please play with me!"

Tim turned again. There was nobody there. He felt creepy about this. But then he saw something out of the corner of his eye: a doll with golden hair, in a frilly pink dress.

"You see me!" she said. "Don't you want to play with me?"

It had been the doll talking to him. Now Tim had absolutely no interest in dolls. What guy would? But this one not only talked, it seemed to be able to take visual clues, and use them to trigger speech. It wasn't just a string you pulled in the back to make it talk, or a button. It saw that he had a blue shirt on. It saw when he turned to look at it.

The doll had a price tag of $2 on it. A doll that could do all those things must be worth a *lot* more than $2! Tim decided that he would buy it. Then he could take it home, clean it up, and sell it on eBay. Even if he got $20 for it, that would be a nice profit. He wasn't exactly rich. So he decided 'what the heck', and took the doll to the lady, along with the accessory bag which was labeled "My Playmate".

"Would you like a bag?" she said.

"Sure" said Tim, as he dug out $2 worth of change from his pocket. He put the doll in his trunk, and walked next door to the sale going on there. The doll was soon forgotten, as he scavenged for other bargains he might find at the block sale.


* * *


When Tim got home, he was tired. He just dumped the bag with the doll in his closet. It sat there for months, as he procrastinated his task of cleaning it up, and reselling it online. Soon, he forgot about it. But that changed one day when he was looking for a dress shirt to wear for a party.

He was looking through his closet, when he noticed a few shirts at the end. They had bright colors, and soft material. He didn't remember ever buying those. How did they get in his closet? His puzzlement was interrupted by a voice.

"It's dark in here. Please play with me" it said.

The doll! He had forgotten all about it. He picked up the bag, and took the doll out.

"Thank you!" said the doll. "Now we can play! Yeah!"

"I don't think so" said Tim out loud. "I'm going to a party."

He laughed to himself. He was talking to a doll. His friends were never going to find out about this!

"It's fun to play with girls" said the doll.

"Sure is" he said, as he was about to put it back in the bag.


The doll spoke again, but in a different tone.

"You are my playmate now" said the doll. "And you are going to play with me. Brush my hair."

Tim suddenly found himself sitting cross-legged on the floor, opening the kit for My Playmate, and brushing the doll's long blond hair.

"This is so fun!" said the doll.

"This is so fun!" said Tim out loud.

Why was he doing this? He wanted to stand up. He wanted to throw the doll in the bag and run away. But instead, he continued to brush it's hair. He was sitting on the floor like a little girl, and playing with a doll! Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he stop it?

"I love you mommy" said the doll.

"Hold still" said Tim. "Don't fidget. Your mommy is brushing your hair."

Your mommy? Why did he say that? He wasn't *anyone's* 'mommy', let alone a stupid doll!

"Dress me up in pretty clothes" said the doll.

"Your mommy is going to dress you up in pretty clothes" said Tim.

He dumped the contents of the My Playmate bag on the floor, and smiled with delight as he saw all the pretty outfits and accessories that came with the doll. He clapped his hands with glee, and clutched them to his chest. He bent over to sort out all the doll's clothes, and arrange them neatly.

He found himself taking the blue checkered dress with the frilly white trim. He took the pink dress off of the doll, and dressed her up in the blue one. He hummed to himself as he dressed her up.

"There, now you look all pretty" he said, sounding proud of himself. His voice was a notch higher in pitch than it had been just moments before, but he failed to notice. He was too much in a panic about the fact that someone or something was controlling him. Something was overriding his brain. His thoughts didn't register with his body anymore. Instead, new thoughts were forming in his mind, and *they* were the ones that his body responded to. He could hear them. They weren't his thoughts. They were the thoughts of a little girl.

"You look pretty too mommy" said the doll. "Don't you want to dress in pretty clothes too?"

"Yes" said Tim, his voice still ascending in pitch. "Your mommy wants to dress up in pretty clothes too."

What was going on??? The mind of a little girl was starting to form, right in his head! And everything he did was according to what *she* wanted, not him! He was powerless now, only able to observe as the little girl forming within him controlled him, and made him do whatever she wanted.

And now he noticed that the timbre of his voice was changing. How was that possible? How was it that he was starting to *sound* more and more like a little girl?


Tim stood up and skipped to the closet. He opened the door, and looked inside. He had to stand on his toes and reach up to grab a hanger off of the rack. That was funny. He should be tall enough that it wasn't a problem. He noticed that at the end, next to the pretty colorful shirts, there was a special dress. It was powder blue, with poofy white arms. The front had a pattern made out of silver sparkles. It was full length, and it flared out at the skirt. It was a princess dress. There was also a petticoat for it. He took the dress off the hanger, and the petticoat.

Tim's clothes were falling off of him now. He pulled them off, and placed them neatly into the hamper. His boxers had fallen off too, and he was naked. He giggled as he skipped over to the dresser, and opened the bottom drawer. Inside, he found panties and a training bra, which he put on. Then he put the petticoat on, and the princess dress. The dress came down to his knees, and felt a little tight on the top.

There. Now he felt better. He felt pretty. He clapped his hands again, and set back down on the floor with his doll.

"Your mommy loves you very much" he said, clutching the doll to his chest.

"I love you too mommy" said the doll. "I'm hungry."

Tim started to sing a song, along with the doll. It was a tune which millions of girls grow up singing:


Oh be my Playmate,

Come out and play with me,

And bring your dollies three,


Look down my rain barrel

Slide down my cellar door

And we'll be jolly friends,



Tim laughed and giggled.

"You look hungry. Mommy will feed you now" said Tim, his voice now sounding just like that of a little girl. He took the baby bottle from the accessories, and pretended to prepare baby formula on a pretend stove. He was in a pretend kitchen, stirring the pot he imagined holding in his hand.

"Be patient my baby" he said. "Mommy is almost ready to feed you."

He took the top off of the baby bottle, and pretended to pour the formula in. He put the top back on, and nodded his head.

"Now we need to make sure its not too hot for my baby" he squeaked in his tiny girl's voice.

Tim squeezed the bottle, and pretended that a single drop fell onto his wrist. It wasn't too hot, and it wasn't too cold. Perfect for baby. He smiled. He was such a good mommy.

Tim held the doll in the crook of his arm, and held the bottle up for it to feed from.

"Hush little baby, don't say a word" he sang. "Momma's gonna buy you a mocking bird."

He sang the words for a while, but then forgot how it went, so he changed over to humming. But all of a sudden, he had to go pee pee, so he dropped the bottle and the baby, and ran to the bathroom. He pulled up his skirt and his petticoat, and sat down to pee. When he was done, he wiped out his woo-woo, like mommy had taught him to do.

He washed his hands, like a big girl was supposed to do, then ran back to his dolly.

"I want to grow up to be a pretty girl like you, mommy" said the doll.

"You will my baby" said Tim, as she rocked the baby in her arms.

Tim was a stupid name. It sounded like a boy's name. Boys were mean. They fought, they got all dirty, and they smelled. But not her! She was a girl, and girls were so much smarter than boys. She even had a girl's name. Kim. That was her name.

Kim yawned. She was tired. She stood up and stretched. She could feel the swish of the skirt down around her ankles. It was no longer tight up top. She had such fun playing with her doll, but she needed a nap. She climbed up into the bed, with her doll, and curled up to go to sleep.


* * *


"I'm worried about Tim" said Stan.

"When was the last time you heard from him?" said the police officer.

"Two days ago. He was supposed to meet me at a party, but he never showed. He isn't answering his cell phone, and he didn't come into work. I'm afraid something happened to him.


Fifteen minutes later, Stan met the police officer at Tim's house. They knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

"I'm going in" said the officer, getting the battering ram out of the trunk of his cruiser. His partner stood aside, as he smacked it into the door, shattering the lock, and forcing the door open.

"Tim, where are you!" called the cop as he entered the house.

The officers made a room to room search, but Tim was not there. But when they got to the bedroom, they were surprised to find a little girl asleep in the bed. The cop gently shook her to wake her up. She had been crying.

"What's the matter?" said the cop. "Are you all right?"

"I don't know where my mommy is" cried the little girl.

"Do you know Tim?" asked the cop.

She shook her head.

"Does your friend have a little girl?" asked the cop to Stan.

"No! He's a bachelor. He's not even dating anyone. I've never seen that kid before in my life."

"I'm not a kid! I'm a big girl!" she protested.

"What's your name honey?" said the cop.

"Kimmie" she replied.

"Where are your parents?"

"I don't know!" said Kim, starting to cry.

"When is the last time you've eaten?" asked the cop.

"I'm hungry!" she bawled.

"It doesn't look like she's bathed in days" said the cop. "I'm calling this in as a lost child. Lets take her in to the station house. We'll check the logs of missing girls, and see if we can find where she belongs."

"What about Tim?" asked Stan.

"We'll file a report on him too. Why don't you come down to the station with us."

As they rode in the car together, the little girl sang in her off-key little voice.


So sorry playmate,

I cannot play with you,

My dolly has the flu,


Ain't got no rain barrel,

Ain't got no cellar door,

But we'll be jolly friends,



* * *


It was a month later. Nobody could find little Kim's parents, and so she was placed in foster care with a loving family. Her new foster parents had two girls of their own, so she would have sisters to play with as she grew up.


When Tim was not found after six months, his place was sold, and his good auctioned off. The money was used to pay off his debts. The auctioneer had held one item aside for himself though. When he was cataloging Tim's possessions, he found an amazing talking doll. He put it into a bag, and took it home. He would clean the doll up, and give it to his granddaughter one day.

When he arrived home after work that day, he took the doll out and placed it on the table.

"Don't you want to play with me?" said the doll.

The man laughed. Play with dolls? Yeah, right.

"You are my playmate now" said the doll. "And you are going to play with me...."




2004 by Jennifer White. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.