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Dawn Rickman felt free for the first time in months. It had taken almost two months to get the restraining order, not to mention the seven months of being “together” with Whisper Lexington that led to needing legal help to keep that batshit crazy bitch away from her.
Whisper. Like hell, Dawn thought. Erin, the bitch’s real name, was far more shouting and violence than she ever had been a whisper about anything. Dawn had only been out of the closet as a trans woman for a little under a year when she met the dominant, sexy Whisper, and threw caution to the wind. It had been surreal, living as the kind of woman she had only imagined herself being up to that point, sweet, almost fucking demure, and submissive to a more aggressive female partner who enjoyed playing the mistress as much as Dawn enjoyed escaping into her headspace as the slave.
But around the third month of dating, shit had gotten way too real. Whisper had started leaving not just marks but welts and actually drawing blood. They had talked about it and Dawn had told her she wasn’t ready for that yet. Maybe ever. And Whisper had backed off for a few weeks until she had Dawn cuffed to the four-poster metal bed frame again and was completely at her mercy.
That’s when the bitch beat her with a cane until she passed out and only woke up later alone in the apartment, gagged and still trapped and unable to call out for help. Dawn had lain there for two days before Whisper returned from a drunken binge and threatened to do worse if “the little slut” ever tried to “be the boss” again.
“My way, or I might just leave you all week next time,” Whisper had said.
Regardless, in spite of the time it took to get the restraining order -- submissive trans women were apparently asking for it, Dawn assumed the courts must have thought -- she felt safe finally. The wounds were almost healed. She was entertaining her headspace needs virtually for the time being, not ready to try that again for a while, sadly.
There were times she still missed the woman she had thought Whisper to be, and those moments almost made her miss the real woman, but only for the briefest of seconds.
Thus it was a complete surprise when Whisper showed up at the end of the empty cul-de-sac where Dawn loved to run.
“You can’t be here,” Dawn yelled as calmly as she could.
“It’s a free country, little bird,” Whisper said.
“And you definitely don’t get to call me that anymore, bitch.”
“Chill out, Dawn. You know you miss the way I made you feel.”
“Like hell. No way I’d ever miss you beating the shit out of me.”
Whisper put her car in park and leaned out her window. “I know you, little bird. You want to be kept. You want to be controlled.”
Dawn turned around. “Not by you.”
“No? Even now, I bet your panties are wet just thinking about me jumping out and holding you against the car, opening your pretty little mouth with my tongue and fingering you right here in public like some kind of wanton slut.”
Fuck, Dawn thought. I have to get out of my own fucking headspace. But that was the problem.
Whisper did know her too well. That’s why it had taken so long to finally leave her. Each time she had tried before, the bitch would sucker her back in by triggering her imagination and being a good lover for a few days before becoming a bitch again.
“You can either leave, or I’ll call the cops, Whisper.” Dawn stopped and glared.
“What if I had another idea?”
“I don’t think so.”
Whisper pointed a little black box at her through the open window and pressed a button. Dawn’s body immediately froze up. She couldn’t move so much as a finger. She couldn’t speak.
“What’s the matter, little bird? Cat gotcher tongue?”
Dawn’s mind struggled against her body but to no avail. She couldn’t make it move, no matter how hard she tried to influence it. Something in that damn box Whisper had pointed at her had paralyzed her. It wasn’t possible. Real life didn’t work like that.
“This is just a little something I’ve been working on at the lab from right before you left me.
Knowing you like I do, I knew you longed to more fully belong to me and to be totally bound tighter than any ropes or handcuffs could ever do. So I injected you with some nanobots from work and I built this controller to activate them.”
YOU BITCH! Dawn cried out in her silence. Let me go! But no words escaped her immobile mouth and throat.
“Right now, you’re basically a human doll. I could leave you just standing there on the side of the road, helpless, or maybe I could even strip you naked and then leave you for somebody to find. I bet they wouldn’t be as kind to your little boy clittie as I was. Hell, you'd probably confuse them as some kind of doll with cute boobs and a tiny little waste of what used to be a dick.”
Whisper opened the door and got out of her car. “I like you as a doll, but you’re just so big. As a collector of beautiful dolls, as you know, I tend to prefer mine quite a bit smaller.”
Whisper pointed the box at her again, and this time when the light flashed, Dawn felt her body shrink as her former mistress suddenly towered over her.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’re still alive. You’re just ten inches tall now, and just as lovely and perfectly mine as you always have been. You’re still in scale to the five feet tall you normally are, and you’ll notice when we get home that you’re a little shorter than my other dolls because of that.”
Whisper walked to her, then knelt beside her. Dawn wanted to run, to get away, to do anything but be kidnapped -- at doll size -- by this psychotic sadist. There was no telling what Whisper could do to her now that she was paralyzed and tiny.
“It’s okay,” Whisper said. “I’ll take really good care of you like I do all my dolls. But you, I think you’ll be my favorite one to play with.”
Dawn was enveloped in Whisper’s grip and lifted and carried to the car. The giant woman laid her in the passenger seat and smiled.
“As cute as you are in these yoga pants and tank top, I think we need to make this little dolly much prettier. Dontcha think? Of course you do.”
Whisper ripped the pants and top off the doll, leaving her in just a pair of lace panties and a matching bra. That was one thing that made Dawn feel beautiful, and that had pleased Whisper just fine.
“That’s pretty, but I had something different in mind, sweetie,” Whisper said, and then proceeded to remove the underwear and leave the terrified doll completely naked.
Then she opened the glove compartment and pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag filled with doll clothes. She retrieved a pair of red plastic hot pants and a black plastic corset top and a thick plastic collar.
“You like?” Whisper asked. “I certainly do. My little doll slave needs to look the part, doesn’t she?”
She quickly dressed her new doll in the masochist slave outfit and then pushed a pair of black knee-high heeled plastic boots onto her stationary feet.
“One last thing before we head home,” Whisper said, and press another button on the remote, and this time Dawn’s skin began to tingle and change tone until it shined like the skin of any other quality fashion doll. Except for having jointed limbs, it would be impossible to tell her apart from any other doll now.
“There. Now you’re my perfect little doll. All ready to play with and keep forever and ever.”
Whisper lay Dawn’s immobile doll form in the passenger seat again and cranked up the car, tuned the station to heavy techno, and peeled out toward home.
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