Book of Revenge: Doll

The phone rang.  The number displayed was from Karen's mom!  Karen quickly answered it.  "Mom!"

"Karen!  Oh, it's so good to hear your voice!  Just a quick call, dear.  I won't be on long, so much work to do!" 

Karen could hear the tension in her mother's voice.  "Is everything OK mom?", she asked tentatively.

"Oh Karen!  It's wonderful!  Remember that job with Mr. Wilson?  I got it!  But I'll need to go straight there from here as it starts shooting right away.  I won't be home for another six months!  So much work... But if you think the money I've been sending you is a lot, wait until you see what they're paying me now!"

"Mom, that's wonderful!"  Karen meant it.  She really did.  After all, she'd been struggling with the dosage calculations for a while.  It's a very delicate operation to drug someone and keep them sick over a long period of time without causing harm.  And now she wouldn't have to!  Another bit of proof to Karen that her cause was just and true.

"Are you sure, dear?  That must be so much work for you, dealing with poor Kendal.  He sounds like he's very difficult.  I've spoken to his mother.  She's still heartbroken that Kendal feels betrayed because she left him and took that job so far away.  But it's ridiculous that he refuses to talk to her on the phone and will only speak to his mother through letters!  I can't imagine how horrible that would be!  I hope he's not being as difficult and petulant to you!"

Karen smiled.  "Oh no, mother, I'm glad to help out.  Taking care of Kendal is no problem at all.  He does exactly what I tell him to.  In fact, you could say he's being a complete doll."

---

I opened my eyes to see a pristine, in the box, Princess Barbie.  At least that's what the text on the outside of the box said.  In slightly smaller text, it said 'Collector's Edition'.  And you could see that it was one of those really expensive, over-the-top type dolls.  Starting at the bottom, you could see the pink, glittery heels attached to Barbie's feet, locked as they were so she was perpetually on her toes.  Above that was a pink, tiered gown that bragged of opulence.  A huge gown, puffed out to ridiculous levels by the layers and layers of petticoats underneath, all collecting at a ridiculously tiny waist.  The pink glittery top barely constrained the well-endowed chest, displaying impressive cleavage.  The top had enormous, puffy shoulders embellished with frills, although you could see the wires around the shoulder that held Barbie fast to the box.  The arms were bare, shiny flesh-coloured plastic, but with impressive jewels around the wrists, with the hands locked flat in that classic Barbie pose.  Surrounding a slender neck was an absolutely impossible volume of long blonde hair.  Easily enough hair for three or four people, It swirled all around the neck, shoulders and back, framing the cleavage.  Perched atop that hair was a classic Barbie tiara, with glittery hearts arranged.  And the face?  Classic Barbie, with baby blue eye-shadow lined in pink, framing perfect blue eyes.  And of course pink blush and shocking pink lipstick completed the classic Barbie look.  It was obviously a very expensive and very beautiful Barbie Doll that any girl would be thrilled to have.

And it only took a few seconds to realize that I was looking in a very large mirror.

I couldn't move my body.  The obvious wires at the shoulder were keeping me locked down to the back of the box, and a little shifting revealed it was something stronger than cardboard back there that I was wired to.  I could feel other wires at my torso and legs, holding just as tight.  I tried to lift my arm to grab the wire, and quickly found that they were locked inside some hard plastic.  I could not bend my elbow or wrist, and my fingers were held together just like Barbies.  Only the tips of the fingers, from the first knuckle up, were exposed.  No doubt to show off my actual long gel fingernails, painted a bright pink.  The rest was a plastic that matched my skin tone and looked like plastic arms.  I couldn't see them, but trying to bend at the knee and ankle had the same lack of success, so I assumed my legs were also bound in plastic, forcing my feet down into that perpetual 'walking on her toes' that Barbie dolls had.  I was blown away.  The last I remembered was Karen giving me that injection and telling me I wouldn't remember anything.  How long had I been out?  How much had I missed?  Obviously this took a while... 

As if on cue, Karen peeked around the corner.  "Oh, you're awake!  Perfect!"  Looking away from myself in the mirror, I saw Karen was fiddling with a camera attached to a laptop.  She stopped to look at me.  I think it was almost a look of... Pride?  "Well, Miss Barbie Dahl, you certainly do look like your namesake now!"

"You're filming this?" I asked.  Karen just looked at me like I was an idiot to even ask.  I tried to move my arms,  but they were locked from just below the shoulder all the way to my first finger joints.  All I could do was stiffly wave them around.  Karen saw what I was doing and exploded into guffaws.  
 
"You move... Hahaha....Just like a Barbie doll!" she forced out before collapsing in gales of giggles.  It went on for several minutes before she was able to stop and wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes.  I was not amused and just let my arms fall to my sides.  Given my circumstances, there were a million things I should've asked, but for some reason, I was fixated on that camera.  I had already resigned myself to being in Karen's care for a year.  I had begun to realize that somehow Karen's memories of childhood had become twisted.  See, back then I had taken responsibility for things I hadn't done just so Karen's mother wouldn't punish her.  But in Karen's mind, my taking the blame translated to her thinking that I was really guilty of all the things I was accused of.  That would be bad enough, but Karen had revealed that now she 'remembered' that I had been responsible for EVERYTHING bad in her childhood.  Not only that, I was even responsible for the nightmares she'd had about me EVEN AFTER I'D MOVED AWAY to live in a different city!  Now she was going to get revenge for all the things she 'remembered' from her therapy that NEVER HAPPENED.  I'd already considered this a lost year of my life as I recovered from my illness.  Going along with Karen's insanity wasn't as horrible as it might seem, as long as I could still manage to work on my physical therapy and recover my strength and mobility.  But video implied a lasting record of what happened.  And I was quickly realizing that I didn't want any record of what was happening here.  I wiggled some more, but it was more than obvious I was going nowhere. 

I had a chance to think while Karen readied the camera.  "Some pretty impressive work here." I said while trying to look down and see everything that Karen had done.  I forced a smile, trying to keep things friendly.  Really, I wanted to scream and yell, but I knew that wasn't going to help.  So I needed to push the panic down and hope that I could get through to whatever sane part of Karen remained.  "Umm... None of it is permanent, is it?" I asked, my voice trailing away as I looked down into my impressive cleavage.  Karen looked up from her camera following my line of sight.

"My goodness, no.  Your chest is all tape and padding.  An illusion."  I exhaled in relief, completely missing how Karen faintly mouthed "For now".  She continued.  "The plastic forms that are screwed on your arms and legs can easily be unscrewed.  Making them was very easy once I had your actual arms and legs to make a form with.  But the make-up, your hair... That was all the girls at the salon.  They were fighting to be the ones who got to work on you.  Which is good.  It took a team of people to get that hair done."
 
"You mean you took me in pubic?  Like to a salon?"  Of course I remembered none of it.  I had started to realize that the blank spots in my memory were due to the drugs that Karen was giving me, but I was surprised to hear she'd risk taking me out where people would see me. 

By way of response, Karen swiveled the laptop around so I could see it.  "Well, it wasn't a regular salon.  It's a place that's very sympathetic to fetish and cross-dressers.  I told them that it was your sick dream to be turned into a Barbie doll against your will and they played along."  With that she pressed play on the video. 

I saw myself strapped down to a chair in a salon.  I was pleading with the salon workers, telling them Karen was crazy and begging for help.  "She's mad!" I said on the video.  "I don't really want to be here.  Call the police!  Call my mom!  Please!"  One of the salon workers, a tattooed girl with gothic makeup and a Bettie Page hairstyle, seemed to delight in my pleading as she worked on the extensions.

She taunted me as she worked.  "Suck it up, buttercup.  We're going to make you into a living, breathing Barbie Doll just like your name.  I'm going to ask your mistress if I can borrow you and show you off in the store window.  You'd like that wouldn't you?" 

"No!" I cried in the video.  "Please, I don't want to be a Barbie Doll!"

Karen looked up at me, smiling at my shock.  I tried to regain my calm.  She hit the fast forward button, then stopped and pressed play again. It was the Bettie Page girl again.  Only now instead of looking scary and dominant, she looked genuinely concerned.

"Umm, Karen, are you sure that he's really into this?  He keeps freaking out and he's being so insistent, it's creeping me out a bit." said the poor girl.  Karen didn't seem worried.  In the video, she walked over to where I was strapped down.  Then she spoke to me but in a manner that it was clear she was speaking to the whole salon.

"OK, Barbie, the girls want to play along with your degrading little fantasy, but you're doing such a good job, they're starting to think it's real and not pretend.  So let's take a break.  Safe word, time out, fantasy is on hold.  Do you really want to be set free?"  Karen stood there, hands on hips, like she'd had to do this a million times before.  And maybe she had?  In the video, I could clearly see Karen's hand reach out and brush my ear.  What happened next made my jaw drop to the floor.  I watched the video.  I could clearly see the fear disappear from my face.  My voice became cool and collected.  Then I watched myself speak.

"Everything that Karen has said is true.  I'm doing this of my own free will.  I'm just pretending to hate it and be humiliated, but really I'm a pervert who secretly loves it all.  Now, please let me go back to pretending.  If it bothers you, you should just leave."  As I stared intently at the video, I could see the calm look fade from my face as the speech ended.  I could see the shock and surprise suddenly appear in my eyes as I realized what I'd just said.  And I could see I was gathering my wits, about to react to what I'd said.  I knew I was about to tell everyone that I had no idea why I'd said that.  If I'd spoken then, I could maybe convince everyone that I'd said those things against my will.  But in the video, I could also see Karen's hand reaching into the little handbag she had with her.  And right away I understood.  I knew she was clicking the button on the remote, the one that overloaded my nervous system through the chastity device she'd locked on me.  I knew when that was on, I was incapable of any kind of speech, and the only movement I did were the spasming of my arms and legs... Both of which were strapped down immobile in the salon chair.  In the video, I saw what the salon workers all saw, me not saying anything, just looking around at everyone with a pleading look.  I knew I was  looking around thinking 'Don't believe her, she made me say that, please help me'.  But now that I could see what everyone saw, my pleading looked like a guy who was indulging a fetish thinking 'Of course it's not real.  I'm just having fun.  Please don't stop'.  And in the video, that's exactly what happened.  Everyone looked so relieved.  If anything, the salon workers redoubled their efforts to play to what they thought was my fantasy.  They became even more degrading in their comments, talking about my height, my lack of muscle and making hurtful implications.  And now, when I pleaded that Karen had made me say those things, they all just laughed and assumed it was part of the act.  They'd never again believe anything I said.

It was painful to watch, and I was happy Karen turned it off.  Without thinking, I thanked Karen for not making me watch it.  But I looked up into Karen's maniacal grin.  "Oh, don't thank me Barbie.  The ladies were genuinely mad at you for how you manipulated them.  They really tore into you.  In fact, the girls absolutely reduced you to tears later in that video.  I've watched it a dozen times already."  She giggled at the thought.  "I can't wait to make you watch it and live it all over again.  But we have some work to do for now."

Shocked into silence by that comment, I watched Karen pick up her 'black book', the one that I could now see had "Revenge" scrawled on the front cover.  As she'd told me earlier, when she'd gone to see a therapist, he'd encouraged her to write down her revenge fantasies.  And now, by bad luck and manipulation, she'd been put in total control of the person who she saw responsible in all of her false memories.  So now she was enacting those revenge fantasies.  Crazy, but with just the two of us, almost impossible for me to make her see reason.  Karen turned to a specific page in the book, and she seemed to be reading, glancing back and forth at a board with a bunch of writing on it.  Finally, she seemed satisfied and placed the board up, behind the camera, but in a place I could see.

"All right."  Karen looked a bit flustered, like she was a little embarrassed.  "You have to remember, this revenge fantasy was written down when I was, like, nine years old." 

Seeing a glimmer of reason in her embarrassment, I took it for an opportunity.  If she knew this was a juvenile revenge fantasy, maybe I could make her reconsider?  "You know, we don't have to do this... We could just skip it.  I mean, you were just nine, right?" 

I quickly saw my comment was not having the effect I'd hoped.  Karen's face started to turn red with anger.  She held up the book.  "You don't understand.  This may seem silly now, but to my nine year old self, this was her world!  We owe it to her.  So even if they seem silly, I assure you we're going to do EVERY revenge scenario written down."

"And what if I don't?"  I asked quietly.  Karen calmly crossed her arms, the sudden calm being even more imposing than if she'd screamed at me. 

"You don't have to, Barbie.  You could still put your foot down and refuse to take the punishment you deserve."  She thought about her comment for a moment, then smiled.  "Well, maybe you can't put your foot down right now, just your toes."  I remembered that my feet were locked up on my tiptoes like the feet of a Barbie doll.  She was right, there was no way I could put my whole foot down.  Any other time I might've laughed at the ridiculousness, but at that moment, things were too tense.  She fished in her pocket, and pulled out the remote.  "If you do, I'll just turn this on and wait.  The doctors say that eventually it'll paralyze you for life.  And then you'll do all the revenge scenarios anyway.  I'm going to make you do whatever it takes to pay your debt.  The only difference will be that when the year is over, instead of setting you free, I'll just deliver you to your mother, forever to be..."  She didn't get into detail.  She didn't have to.  It was very clear.  The iron fist behind the velvet glove.  If I didn't play along, Karen knew at this delicate time in my recovery that enough simulation from the remote and my nervous system would burn out.  I'd lose permanent control of my limbs and be paralyzed forever.  "Don't try me, Barbie Doll.  You know you deserve to be punished.  So stop trying to avoid it."

Well, that was the problem.  I DIDN'T DESERVE IT!  I didn't deserve it at all.  Only in her mad mind did I deserve anything.  But there was no point risking permanent harm until escape was a possibility.  I fully believed that if she was backed into a corner, she would do what she threatened.  For now, I could still come out of this.  It was like a jail sentence.  I could do my time and then this would only be a bad memory.  I sighed and looked to see what she'd written on the board.  It looked like a script, and my text was clearly marked.  "All, right, are you ready to begin?"  I nodded and Karen turned on the camera.  She, reading from the book, me reading from the board but looking at the camera, we began this little script.

Karen began speaking, looking into the camera.  "My mother said I could have any Barbie for my birthday.  I was so excited to select a 'Princess Barbie', the special, limited release, collector's edition.  But I couldn't open it before my birthday.  I adored that doll, and dreamed of the day I'd open the box and play with it.  But when my birthday came around, it was missing!  You never admitted it, but I remember you grinned while I cried.  My mother offered to buy me another doll, but the limited edition had sold out, and there were no other dolls like it." 

I looked at the board and saw it was my turn to speak.  "Yes, Karen, you are correct.  I was the one who destroyed your doll". 

I swear to you, I had never seen this doll before in my life.  The last thing I would've done as a kid was destroy one of her dolls.  I really was a good kid.  And honestly, I didn't want anything to do with dolls anyway.  They were girls stuff.  But I knew Karen would never believe me, so I continued to read. 

"I stole that doll just to make you upset.  To make it up to you, I will instead be your doll.  You will get the chance to open your 'Princess Barbie' for the first time, to take it out and play with it.  And you will finally get to play with your 'Princess Barbie' as you dreamed."

Wow, this really did read like a revenge fantasy written by a nine-year-old.  I had to be her doll to make up for a doll her mother probably lost that she wrongly blamed on me?  It continued on for a while, with me imploring to be forgiven, and saying how I would be a perfect doll for her.  I know how bad it sounds, but compared to what had happened already, it actually wasn't too bad.  I mean, I wasn't happy that Karen now had a video of me made up like a Barbie doll, asking a nine year old to take me out of the box and play with me.  It was utterly humiliating, but things certainly could be worse.  We did it a few times, with her moving around the camera and getting different angles.  Finally she seemed to be satisfied and took the camera down.

"Well, that wasn't so bad" I said. 

Karen glanced over.  "We're not done.  I haven't played with you yet.  I have several outfits to put on my Barbie and watch you try to walk up and down your little Barbie catwalk.  Gosh, I hope you don't find them too terribly humiliating.  Well, we'll simply make you keep walking until you can do it with no shame whatsoever!  And I'll record every moment for posterity.  It's the least I can do for you."  The way she smiled as she said that made me gasp.  Why was she recording this?  Karen interpreted it that I was still thinking of resisting.  "It's not like you have a choice, is it?  And I have to see how Barbie looks in all of finery!"  What was going on in that crazy mind of Karen's?  The thought scared the pants off me... Literally.  Still I soldiered on trying to find a silver lining.

"Oh.  But once we do that, that will be one of your revenge fantasies done, right?  And when we finish them all, we're even, right? I'm free?"  Karen nodded in the affirmative and my heart soared.  There was an end in sight!  I started to eye that black book again.

"Umm, how many of those fantasies do you have in that book?"  Karen turned the book to me, flipping through the pages.  I could see that every page was full of writing and diagrams.  So there were quite a few... "OK, OK, but once we finish that, we're even right?"  Karen smirked and flipped the book to the inside cover, holding it up where I could see it.  It said 'Revenge... Volume I'.

This was going to be a long year...