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All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design: D. B. Story
Two Dolls Lost © 2009 D.B. Story
eXcessica publishing
All rights reserved
Two Dolls Lost
By D.B. Story
Preface
The Living Dolls story universe was created by Marshall Ian Key in his novel Living Dolls and extended writings. In conversations with Marsh to inquire about writing a companion story to his own I told him I wished to explore more fully a door he'd opened about what happens to a doll when she loses the owner she's bonded to. Marsh felt that this was an intriguing area that might be explored by new dolls separate in history and location from the ones he'd already written about and gave his blessing to the exploration of that theme. This novel is the result of those thoughts.
Chapter 1—Two Dolls Lost
It was an old, ratty looking box, resembling nothing more than a sturdy cardboard shoebox from when the young girl's mother had been younger herself. It had been given to the young girl by her favorite uncle, when she'd told him how lonely it was to not have any nice playmates.
The uncle had told her that he remembered what it was like to be lonely himself, and he'd at least had a sister. But he wasn't lonely any longer. He'd recently married the woman of his dreams, who said there was nothing she liked about him more than his calm, self-assured, knowing manner around her. He seemed to know her better than she even knew herself.
His wife was so heart-stoppingly beautiful (and extraordinarily insecure about it) that other boys, even many men, either couldn't talk coherently around her or simply tried to take advantage of her. She considered herself the luckiest person in the world to have found a man who could simply be himself with her, and put her so at ease that she could finally come to terms with her own self. She was absolutely blooming now in this relationship.
"Here, Sugar," the uncle had said softly, his voice almost a whisper as he'd handed his niece the box. "I don't need these any more, and you need a friend. Inside you'll find two friends who need you in return. And all you'll ever need to do is..."
* * * *
For a year the little girl wasn't lonely at all, although her parents never understood why. During that time, she had a new friend who was just a bit older than she was, and was visited by all her favorite pre-teen, teenaged, and post-teen female rock and movie stars. When they came in pairs, like the Olsen Twins, that worked too, even though her special friend couldn't share those moments with her. The girl soon had an autograph book that was the envy of all her friends, although some felt she'd forged all the signatures and lip prints therein. After all, none of those famous names would ever come to a small town like this one.
She also started doing much better in school. When she needed a special tutor to help with her homework, she knew just who to call on. Then the day came when the family had to move.
* * * *
It was all a big rush. It was the end of the summer, and the father wanted them moved and settled in, in time for his daughter to start school for the fall.
Although the girl packed up everything neatly and carefully, it then got all mixed in with her parent's stuff. Moving to another state is a real mess, as anyone who has ever done it can tell you.
The old box that her uncle had given her got shuffled aside and mixed in with actual shoeboxes and other things that we accumulate until we have to move once more. Then the less important stuff is triaged and discarded as not worth the effort to move once more. That's usually after it's been moved twice already. That happened to this old box as well.
The little girl didn't realize that her precious box didn't get loaded on the truck until she arrived at her new home, at which point she looked very long and very hard for it.
When she came to her mother in tears, not explaining just why the box was so important—only that it was—she was assured that, "I'm sure it's here somewhere. We'll certainly find it once everything is unpacked again."
As anyone who has moved themselves knows, "everything" never gets unpacked in a new home. In fact, what never gets unpacked should have probably never been shipped in the first place. The truth is, we hang on to many more things in life than we'll ever use again, but that's the nature of life.
So although the little girl searched many more times, and cried herself to sleep many nights over her loss, the memories eventually faded. She grew up a bit more, made new friends much more easily now than before her uncle had given her that box, and soon discovered boys.
The day ultimately arrived when she didn't think about her loss, or conduct yet another futile search for that box in the places she'd already searched a hundred times before, for that entire day. And soon she didn't think about it for a whole week at a time.
She would grow up, get married in her late-twenties to a young man she met in college, and soon have two daughters of her own. Those daughters where never as lonely as she had been because they always had each other. She'd eventually wonder if her memories of that box and its contents were even real, or just a figment of a childhood now far in the past. Especially after her older daughter had an imaginary friend of her own for several years while growing up.
It's at this point that she exits our story, without having ever really entered it in the first place.
Chapter 2—The City Dump
Todd, age fifteen, wasn't supposed to go prowling through the city dump down the road apiece. His parents were quite strict about that. And he particularly wasn't to ever take his sister Amy, age just twelve, or her friend Megan, same age, over there. But fifteen-year-old boys don't always have the best of judgment. Little sisters often look up to their big brothers and want to tag along, even when big brothers don't want to be associated with them. Sisters also know how to make such a bigFq fuss when they're denied anything that it's better to take them along, rather than have the parents find out and nix everything.
A dump is an amazingly appealing place for a boy of that age. Especially when his friend Chris, vastly experienced at age sixteen, sees them heading that way and joins the expedition.
Soon enough they were climbing over the newest piles—which is where Chris said you always find the best stuff—and trying to not be spotted by The Watchman. The Watchman was an old man who the city hired to try and keep people out so that nobody got hurt and sued the city because of it. One watchman for acres of junk was an impossible task, but the kids treated it like a challenge.
"The Watchman!" Chris said so sharply that not only did the girls jump and shriek, but Todd did as well.
"Shhhhh!" Chris added urgently, rethinking the idea that making the girls shriek was a good way to stay concealed.
This foray into enemy territory involved creeping down canyons, peering over ridges, and generally pretending that the next World War was being fought, and won, right here in these trenches.
While the girls quickly tired of that game, the boys could play it forever. That's what goes with being a boy.
Chris showed them his secret cave, after swearing everyone to secrecy. Some larger items had fallen in such a way that there was actually space for everyone to fit inside—barely. Megan thought it smelled bad and went back out immediately, although neither boy could figure out what she was complaining about. Chris told a story of hiding there once while The Watchman walked right past the entrance. It might have even happened like that.
Chris finally took them to the newest area of dumping, after swearing everyone to secrecy yet again. For the girls, the game was getting old.
* * * *
Climbing to the tallest pile of the newest refuse was a dangerous undertaking. The stuff was in no sense settled, and was more dangerous than any of the kids realized. But that made it fun. And while their parents would have put a stop to all this the moment they found out about it, they all had done equally foolish things in their own past, and survived them all.
"Get up here," Chris taunted the girls. "You'll miss all the good stuff if you take all day."
"What good stuff?" Megan wanted to know.
"Yeah, what good stuff?" Amy echoed.
"Well," Chris retorted, looking around until he found a cache of old shoeboxes. "This!" he crowed, holding up the first box.
"What's that?" Todd wanted to know, having second thoughts himself about climbing all the way up there after slipping twice, banging his arm painfully the second time.
Chris opened the shoebox, to reveal a pair of women's dress shoes that were at least twenty-five years out of style.
"Oh, that's exciting," Todd said sarcastically, but both the girl's eyes lit up at the idea of dress up. They started climbing with renewed vigor, passing Todd who now struggled to regain the lead.
It was mostly a tie for second place for everyone making it to the top, just in time for Chris to frantically whisper, "Down!" He'd seen The Watchman over on the far side, or thought he did.
Todd was impatient by the time Chris announced all clear. His doubt was evident.
"Tell me again why I've just had my face down in the trash for the last ten minutes."
It'd actually only been about two minutes,
With things clear once more, everyone started opening boxes of all sizes, but only the girls were having a good time now. There were just women's shoes and women's old clothes to be found, which appealed to them much more than the boys. They were trying things on, while the boys looked frantically for something of interest.
"This sucks," Todd declared, casting Chris's leadership skills into doubt.
"I agree," Chris concurred, thinking anxiously how to regain his status within the group. "There's a much better place over there," he declared, pointing vaguely towards the late afternoon sun.
"This is fine," Megan declared, surrounded now in shoes, all far too big for her young feet.
"It's time to go," Todd announced, feeling responsible for his sister and her friend being there.
"I'm not done yet," Megan announced in her stubborn voice.
"Me neither," Amy parroted back to her brother, pulling out yet another box that had been wedged in underneath the others, threatening to topple the nearby stack of true junk in the process.
"I said now!" her brother threatened.
Amy calmly ignored him, knowing she could get away with anything as far as his threats were concerned. Instead she opened the new box, hoping for another pair of shoes. Instead she reached in to pull out a pretty brunette, Barbie-sized doll, sans any clothing. Peering back inside the box, she then found a second—this time blonde and also naked—doll, which she immediately handed over to Megan. There was a lot of doll-sized clothing in the box, along with shoes, and other accessories.
"What's that?" her brother demanded.
"Yeah, what's that?" Chris echoed.
"What does it look like," Amy replied back, in the insolent manner of a baby sister who'd just graduated out of her first training bra, among other things.
"It's just a stupid doll," Chris announced.
"And you're just a stupid boy," Amy shot back at him.
Megan, the shyest of the group, was quietly trying to stay out of the fight now.
"Let's go!" Chris proclaimed urgently. At his age, everything was urgent.
"No!" Amy shot back defiantly, digging further into the pile in front of her.
"What are you looking for now?" Todd demanded to know.
"More clothes for my new doll," Amy replied rebelliously, trying to pull loose another box, and almost dislodging her increasingly precarious balance on the pile of trash in the process.
"Dolls are just stupid," Chris sneered.
"No they're not!" Megan shouted, suddenly finding their voice.
"Yes they are!" Chris shot back, replaying the forever battle between the junior members of the sexes. "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" In his frustration, he'd forgotten about trying not to attract the attention of The Watchman.
Now Megan looked to be on the verge of tears.
"It's time to go!" Chris insisted, coming over and grabbing Megan's blonde doll before she realized what he had in mind. Winding up like the pitcher he was in high school, Chris threw the doll off of the pile and off into the distance. Todd admired the pitch, intending to be playing catcher to Chris on the varsity team himself this year.
"Now get off here and go down and get it, if you want it that badly," he added smugly, feeling he'd just solved the problem in a manly fashion. Megan was in tears now.
Amy clutched the brunette doll tightly to her chest. "Touch me there and I'll tell my Mom," she insisted, backing him off immediately. "And she'll tell your Mom..."
"It's still stupid," he insisted, taking out his frustration by grabbing and throwing the box the dolls had come in instead. This scattered the outfits and accessories to the winds.
"No it's not!" she insisted defiantly, insisting to herself that she would not break into tears while her brother was around. This was the year she was supposed to be very grown up, according to her parents.
"A proper doll should be life-size," he sneered.
"Don't they make life-sized Barbie dolls that are big?" Todd wondered.
"Those are called 'My Size' Barbies," Amy announced, with the superior air of knowing something the boys didn't. She'd wanted a My Size Barbie for just about forever.
"Life Size," Todd insisted, not wanting to admit that there was anything a girl could know, especially his sister, that he didn't already know too. There was more than a simple sibling rivalry in their family, and he knew it was about to get very much worse for him, and was trying to hold on to any advantage he still had.
"My Size," Amy insisted.
"Life Size," Todd stubbornly persisted.
"My Size," Amy wouldn't give up.
Todd, embarrassed in front of his peers by this, went over to the pile of adult clothing treasures Amy'd piled up, making a move to push them over the side.
"Don't do that!" Amy screamed.
"Then say 'Life Size'," he insisted.
When she didn't, he drew his foot back, as though to kick the pile off the mound.
"Say it," he warned, trying to keep is balance on only one leg.
"You wouldn't dare," Amy insisted, not believing her own words.
"Wouldn't I?" Todd said, struggling to keep his balance as he drew his leg back even further.
"No," Amy pleaded.
Todd, knowing he had to win this, swung his foot forward towards the pile.
"Life Size!" Amy shouted, trying to stop him, although it was already too late.
And suddenly, instead of a doll in her hand, there was a naked girl, maybe a year older than she was, standing right next to her.
* * * *
Amy screamed. It was the piercing tone of a surprised young girl's scream. The kind that goes through your head like an ice pick from one ear to the other, on its way to shattering fine wine glasses.
A moment later, responding to Amy's scream, the new girl screamed just as loudly. And then Megan screamed in sympathy, although not yet knowing why.
Distracted, Todd's leg swung unstoppably through the pile of old clothes and shoes, causing him to lose his balance completely, and start tumbling down the slope.
Chris, startled by the new girl, Todd's fall, and three women screaming, lost his balance and fell off the other side.
Megan's eyes were as large as saucers, looking at what just had happened.
And the new girl stumbled a bit, as she took a step towards Amy.
"Get away! Get away from me!" Amy shrieked, sliding backwards herself in avoidance of the stranger. When the girl extended her hand in a possible gesture of friendship, or just to help keep the young girl from falling off completely, Amy pulled back even further. She didn't know what was going on, and didn't want to know. This had just gotten too weird for words. And Megan was still screaming.
"I'm yours," the new girl said, as Amy's shrieks paused to take another breath.
"I don't want you!" she shouted. "Go away! Just please go away!"
With that, Amy tumbled backwards as well, sliding in a very undignified manner down the slope. In fact, only Megan made a properly decorous, albeit rapid, descent.
At the bottom, with all the screaming and other shrieking going on, Chris had already taken to his heels. If he got caught here again, his parents would ground him for a year, and he'd lose his place on the baseball team. And if his big sister found out first, he'd owe her more favors than any guy could ever hope to repay. She was always trying to fix him up with her dateless friends, and he still had one more year of high school to put up with her before she graduated. As for her friends, if they couldn't get dates with anyone else, he sure didn't want to be seen with any of them himself.
Todd, torn between waiting for his sister, and hightailing it after Chris, did the gallant thing. He waited just long enough to grab Amy's arm and take off down the path Chris had already blazed. Only Amy's protests, and the digging in of her little heels, slowed him down enough for Megan to catch up. Then they all ran without stopping all the way back to Todd's house, throwing themselves under the big shade tree in the side yard when they arrived, panting as hard as they could.
Soon there was a giggle, followed by another, and then a brief laugh, until they were all laughing uncontrollably at their fright. Even so, nobody dared go back to see what had happened. Surely The Watchman had heard everything, and would catch all of them this time.
It was a full day later when Todd and Amy crept back at sunset, looking for her doll—or in Todd's mind, the girl the doll had become. He'd finally remembered that she'd been naked, very naked, and had a nice start on all those things he'd yet to see—or touch—on any real girl yet. By then, a lot of new trash had arrived, changing everything, and they couldn't find the doll—or the girl. Neither of them realized they'd be seeing the doll/girl, and her friend, again soon enough.
Chapter 3—Peggy
Forlorn, and now abandoned, poor Peggy stood alone and naked atop the mountain of trash, watching the Mistress who'd just disowned her, run away. Peggy had no idea how she'd gotten here, where here actually was, or why the person who'd called her back to life had then abandoned her so precipitously moments afterwards.
As she stood there in the still warm afternoon sun, Peggy was deeply conflicted. In one sense, the bond to serve the one who'd brought her back to life-size was as strong as the deepest love a person could feel. Peggy was ready, willing, and able, to do nearly anything asked of her by that person.
Yet on the other hand, what had just been asked of her was to disown that very bond. While it had never hurt even a bit to be returned to doll size the moment her current Mistress or Master was through with her for the moment, this hurt a great deal.
Because the command to come again to "life size" had contained no other information, Peggy had returned in her most recent previous incarnation, and at the age she'd last been. This made her a quite pretty, thirteen-year-old, brunette girl, on the verge of womanhood, whose figure was a junior version of the more adult proportioned doll. Even so, she was exquisitely formed, with slim legs, real, age appropriate, budding breasts, a narrow waist, and flaring hips. Because the only hair the doll had was the long brunette mane on the top of her head, that's all Peggy had. It nicely set off her young looking face, which was verging on too cute to be real. It would grow from cute to most appealing in a very short period of time for her.
Because she'd not been dressed as a doll, and not commanded to be either clothed, or naked, she was naked now. And although summer was waning, the puffs of breeze as the sun dropped in the sky promised a cool night.
* * * *
Peggy remained where she was, standing to be seen easily. Her public nudity didn't bother her. Because her doll form had no pubic hair, neither did she. Her finger and toenails were nicely painted in both forms, and she practiced her bright smile that she so seldom got to use. Most of the time she'd been told to portray someone else, so few were the opportunities for anyone to see her own smile.
That was okay with her. It's what she was made to do. But her last Mistress, also a young girl, was more interested in discovering her natural form, than experimenting with everyone else Peggy could become on command. That girl had wanted a big sister. Someone to always be her friend, and help her see who she'd grow up to be some day. She'd learned how to get Peggy to become exactly that, which Peggy had ended up enjoying quite a bit.
And there'd been a second doll as well. A blonde one. While Peggy had been the favorite, the other doll had sometimes been a second sister, along with visiting celebrities, pop tarts, and any other woman the girl had wanted to meet.
Sometimes the other doll had played the role of surrogate mother, or teacher. While the little girl's real mother had hardly abandoned her, both parents were working hard to pay off bills and hopefully, someday, have a second child. If that had happened, this little girl wouldn't have been so lonely.
On a couple of occasions, the little girl had wanted to go out with her friends. But she knew that without an adult to watch over them that would never be allowed. One role the other doll played to perfection had been that of an adult—Peggy's "mother".
When Peggy and her "mother" were introduced to the girl's own parents as her new friends in the neighborhood, she'd been allowed to go out with them on trips to the park, shopping at the local stores, and even to the community swimming pool. Her real mother had never suspected.
For Peggy, it felt like she had a real family of her own. Oh, she didn't mind the other people she'd been. Most of them she barely remembered once she changed roles again. But being just herself for so long had made everything so perfect, and now it was seemingly all gone.
* * * *
As the sun dropped down towards the western hills, Peggy pulled her arms tightly across her chest. While it wasn't cold yet, she could tell it was going to be. And while it felt very nice to have warm skin against those budding breasts, that wasn't the feeling she was looking for at the moment. She was just feeling so lonely here, alone amidst all the junk, and getting lonelier by the minute, that any comforting touch was welcome.
* * * *
Peggy didn't leave her position until it was almost completely dark. By then, she felt that if the little girl was returning at all, it wouldn't be before morning at the earliest.
It couldn't get completely dark, because just as the sun was setting, a full harvest moon was rising. And as she started to feel the coolness of the evening coming upon her, she hugged her chest tightly once more.
This time she felt her young nipples, responding to the cool breezes, pressing against her arms. Those sensations, along with the falling temperatures, caused her to shiver. And although she saw some of her discarded doll clothing nearby—the light items couldn't fly nearly as far as the other doll had—she couldn't wear any of them in her present form. That clothing had to be put on her while she was in doll form, and that was something she couldn't manage for herself.
* * * *
Things might have gotten quite a bit worse indeed, but Peggy abruptly realized what had been obvious from the moment she'd awakened here. She was surrounded by discarded regular clothing and shoes.
Now while she'd not been told to dress herself, and never had dressed herself before until told to do so when brought alive naked, she'd not been told to be anything now. And while it took her a while to realize that she had to start making her own decisions for the first time that she could recall, a quickening breeze definitely helped that process along.
Peggy soon had several layers of clothing on her body. All the items were too big for her small frame, but warm and comforting all the same. And she wasn't worried about it being years out of style.
For shoes, she only considered the high-heels. Her doll feet were permanently configured for heels that were out-of-proportion tall for her height. And while she could certainly walk barefooted, she'd always felt the most comfortable in a fine pair of proper heels. And while these shoes were too big for her in the same way they were too big for Amy, they were far better than nothing on her bare feet. And given her penchant for high-heels, she actually managed them pretty well, although at her age an inch-and-a-half less height would have worked just fine.
Finally attired for the night, including a sweater considered by its original owner too moth-eaten to be kept any longer despite only three small holes, Peggy delicately picked her way down off of the mountain of trash. She knew she couldn't spend the night up there unprotected, and planned instead to return back to it in the morning, the better to be found—if anybody wished to find her, that was.
* * * *
It was much darker down below, despite the bright moon. And there were strange sounds in the near distance. Uncomfortable sounds.
Now that she was down, even her skill in navigating in those heels was severely put to the test as she stumbled about. More than once she almost fell, only catching herself at the last moment.
A bigger problem, however, was she had no idea where she was trying to go. Only now did she realize that she should have picked out her path while she was above the trash and could see clearly in all directions. There was no point in going back up there now, she realized, since even if she could find that particular pile again, it was dark now and there was nothing to see.
After stumbling around in circles in the narrow passages between the piles for seemingly longer than the actual time probably was, poor Peggy half-stumbled once more. As she reached out to brace herself, there was nothing there, leaving her tumbling into Chris's secret cave.
Fortunately, Chris had already cleaned out anything dangerous, and even found a couple old blankets to put on the ground to make things more comfortable, so Peggy wasn't hurt by her fall.
Once inside, she realized she really had no reason to leave again. Outside was only darkness and confusion. So sitting down in the middle of the space, her heels pushing her knees up higher than her face, Peggy wrapped her arms tightly around her legs for comfort.
Her tears started soon after that, and continued until she finally fell asleep.
Chapter 4—Linda
It had been a long and lonely night when Peggy emerged the next morning. No one had come for her yet, and the bond she felt to her Mistress was weakening. While that maybe shouldn't have ever been allowed to happen, she'd never been rejected like this before either.
While she could recall how it had felt to be held in doll form and treasured by Amy before she was commanded to life size, everything had gone very badly after that. Yet Peggy still couldn't figure out a single thing she'd done wrong.
With no other plan, she started to retrace her steps back to where she'd been brought to life size. Maybe the young girl would be waiting for her, wondering why she'd left.
Even in the daylight, Peggy stumbled a bit from high-heels too big for her feet. She hadn't had time to feel hungry, or thirsty yet, although that would come with time if something wasn't done first.
Suddenly she bent down and picked up a small figure.
"Linda!" she exclaimed with sudden joy. It was the blonde doll that Chris had thrown away.
As she held the small, nude figure, it took Peggy a few moments to divine out what she needed to do next. Although she'd seen, and heard, it done many times, that was nothing like actually doing it yourself—especially if you were in Peggy's position.
But with nothing else to do, and feeling so lonely otherwise, Peggy finally, carefully, set the other doll down on the path.
"Linda," she said hesitantly. "Life size."
A moment later she was hugging a confused, very naked, very attractive, blonde woman who looked to be about thirty-years-old.
* * * *
It took a while for Peggy to calm down and get the story out about what had happened since they'd both been life-sized together the last time. Linda, with her bright curly platinum blonde hair, and fully mature adult figure, was also in her "natural" form, and the same apparent age she been last time she'd been brought to life. Unlike Peggy, who'd been their last Mistress's year-older friend, Linda had been relegated to playing the part of Peggy's mother. This had allowed the three of them to go out on shopping expeditions under the guise of adult supervision.
"It's cold," Linda finally told her best friend, Linda's own hard nipples reinforcing that fact. Her doll-like complexion was also pubic hair free, and had only faintly darker areole around the larger points of nipples on her quite well-developed chest. It was a chest any adult doll would be proud of.
"I know where there are some clothes," Peggy informed her, leading the way with more assurance now. Finding Linda, and successfully bringing her to life, was the first good thing that'd happened for Peggy in a while now.
* * * *
As their neared the original pile, Peggy, and then Linda, started to find some of their scattered doll outfits and accessories. They started collecting everything they could find, although obviously nothing would fit either of them now.
"And this is where it happened," Peggy told the currently older doll as they arrived at the top of the heap once more.
Along the way, they'd also found the discarded box with a few items still in it, which Linda carried now. They added everything else they found to the collection. Although both dolls scanned the horizon, nobody seemed to be coming for either of them yet.
After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Linda started trying on discarded adult-sized clothing scattered about. Although it generally fit her better, except that the bust was usually too tight, she didn't seem very satisfied with what she was finding.
"I've always enjoyed playing dress-up," she commented wistfully, "until now."
* * * *
As the sun continued to rise, and nothing else seemed to happen in this corner of the dump, Linda finally wandered off to collect more of their discarded doll-sized outfits. "I wouldn't know who to watch for anyway," she commented verily.
She eventually returned, with nearly all the scattered outfits and accessories back in their box. She looked down longingly at her treasure trove of fashionable, unusable clothing.
As Peggy was now feeling the first real pangs of hunger and thirst, having never been life-sized for this long before, Linda was still contemplating her collection of outfits, not realizing that she had achieved a woman's dream of being able to carry her entire wardrobe easily with her.
As Peggy looked over to her only remaining friend, Linda mused, "I don't suppose that you could..."
"I could try," Peggy quickly completed the sentence for her friend. In hindsight, it seemed perfectly obvious.
* * * *
"Linda. Doll size!" Peggy ordered her blonde compatriot, taking the box of outfits from her in the process.
Following the instructions of the one who'd brought her to life, and who she was bound to, Linda immediately shrank back to her doll form.
Not wanting to leave her lying in the trash, Peggy picked up the blonde doll and placed it in her lap. Although it wouldn't seem apparent to outsiders, Peggy knew that Linda was aware of this gesture and would remember it, even while in her doll form.
Then carefully picking through the all mixed-up outfits, Peggy found a white blouse with tiny, useless buttons down the front, and a salmon colored coat with matching knee-length skirt. While there was no lingerie per se for the dolls, there was a bikini in there. One of several swimsuits they had worn with their last owner, who loved going to the community pool.
Peggy pondered over that decision. While she hadn't been an adult woman herself in a long time, she recalled the various movie stars and other older women she'd been required to portray. While never complaining, and actually enjoying most of it, few adult women had figures approaching her doll-sized perfection. As such, she appreciated the desirability of some extra support.
And although she'd never been told to mimic Linda, nor allowed to be her true self as an adult, and therefore wasn't an expert in exactly what Linda's needs might be, she also knew that even when support itself wasn't necessary, additional protection to such vulnerable areas might be desirable. While the women she'd portrayed had varied from no sensitivity to great sensitivity on their breasts, along with Linda confiding in her one time that it only gets better as you get bigger and older, clued her that Linda might welcome some extra protection.
She also recalled that on a couple occasions when she'd been told to portray well-known women with especially large chests, there'd been some painful tugging on almost invisible surgery scars. A large chest was not always a good thing, it seemed.
Beyond all this, Peggy also still didn't know what had scared off the girl who'd brought her to life size, and her friends. If it had been her naked chest, then it certainly should be covered properly. Peggy hadn't wanted to scare off anyone, and did know how uncertain young women her current age felt about their bodies. She also knew that once boys grew old enough to notice a young woman's budding endowments, how awkward and uncertain they became around them. So better to be safe, than sorry, she decided as she fastened the bikini top on Linda's doll figure, before dressing her in the blouse, skirt, and coat.