This is the artwork by xqilinxxx which helped to inspire Doll Wife, particularly the garden scene in Part 7. I only wish someone with skill in these things could manipulate it further to give her a doll face and perhaps produce some similar images to illustrate the story. Any takers?
Thanks to Paulo for sending the image.
DP
She descended the stairs, her gorgeous dress sweeping the steps and was led to the dining room where her husband sat at one end of the table and a place was prepared for her at the other. Although she had accepted that a degree of the doll life would be continuing for her now that she was married, this sight rose her hopes that she might at least get proper meals, all be they liquidised ones. However, when her spouse began to speak, she realised that such was not the case.
“My dear Charity, good morning and don’t you look so radiant today. I have so long waited for this moment, when we can dine together as husband and wife. I thought that it would come many years ago but alas, that was not to be but even so, here we are at last. Now, your former headmistress has told me all about the unusual diet which you were kept on at school and indeed, it seems to have done wonders for you so I have decided that I don’t want my little dolly wife to forget all that she has learnt and so I have decreed you carry on in the same fashion for your breakfast and lunch each day, but for dinner, that being the special meal of the day as it were, we can have something different. However, as we are now united in the eyes of God, it is only right and proper that we share everything, so I have asked the cook to prepare you a tasty breakfast, three parts God’s water and one part mine laced with all the vitamins and nutrients that the doctor assures me you need to stay in your current radiant condition. Does that please you Charity?”
Please her? Did it? Not really, since she really longed for some of the milk he was drinking, but the doll mind was so engrained in her now that she merely nodded mechanically which caused him to smile. “Charity, oh Charity, you are a delight! I must thank Mr. Cartwright for suggesting I take a doll wife instead of chasing after shadows! I’d never considered it before you know; you shall soon learn my former plans, but he came to me, said that he had been landed with a ward who was neither intelligent nor pretty but who could be moulded into a doll for a reasonable bride price and I thought, why not? If I can’t have Charity one way, I’ll have her the other and here you are!”
A maid approached with a large four pint porcelain bowl with a lid on the top and a rubber tube leading out which was attached to her gag. Dutifully she sucked as he husband explained her new life. It was much diluted but the taste was still strange, not being her own and she realised how unnatural it now felt for her to be drinking someone else’s water.
“My dear, I’m afraid I’m a rather busy man what with the company to look after and all, so you’ll be without me all day and also for periods when I leave on business trips but I have been assured that your training at school has helped prepared you for such waiting. Whilst I am away I shall arrange some permanent enclosure so that no one may be tempted to violate whilst I am not here, but whilst present I wish access so that I can fulfil my duties to you as a husband. You will be pleased to know that you will be living as a lady, a lady of leisure and that requires a monoglove at all times when I am not present although in the evening I shall enjoy the touch of your mittened hands. I believe you have been trained in such garments so I imagine that is no problem for you. Anyway my love, this house is yours, you are mistress now and I am sure you shall love each and every day spent here!”
But did Charity love each and every day? It is hard to say. Certainly they were largely the same; each like that first one. After breakfast Harry had gone off to his work and she had been laced into an unforgiving monoglove with a tiny bell attached to the end. It caused her arms to ache and go dead but whenever she needed something she could ring the bell and a maid would come. She then went to the ladies’ sitting room where she sat on a couch and waited. Her bladder was getting full now from all the liquid she had consumed and so she let loose and it flowed into the black bag under her bottom, causing the pee to slosh about. Her maid asked her if she wanted tea which she did and a pint of liquid was brought to her which she sucked up. She sat for a while but she was bored in the sitting room so she went out into the garden. However, to go out there her husband had decreed that her rubber skin needed extra protection so a rather strange extra layer was added; a transparent full head latex hood with only a small hole for breathing and then an enormous summer bonnet over that which gave her tunnel vision. Wearing this hood was one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. It reduced her vision – which was pinhole anyway – with only the near ground being clear and the distance fading into a haze of latex but more than that it only had a tiny hole to let air in and when she breathed it closed around her face, only expanding like a balloon again as she exhaled. At first she was scared she would suffocate but slowly she realised that she would not die in it but her air was now stale as it was mostly recycled and she really had to labour her breaths to get any into her lungs. Nonetheless, strange as this may sound, it also excited her somewhat down below and she wished at that moment for her husband to service her.
She sat for around an hour in the garden, all her efforts expended on the hood which sucked in front of her face with a scrunching sound and then blew out again with another scrunch. Then her maid arrived and told her that she had a visitor, a local lady wishing to offer her congratulations on her marriage and so she returned to the sitting room where the bonnet and hood were removed and her breathing became clearer again.
The lady in question was one Arabella Montague, the wife of a local landowner who was friendly with her husband and, to Charity’s surprise, also a doll. She was dressed in a ridiculous pink confection and also had her arms strictly laced into a monoglove that matched her dress. They could of course, not communicate at all, but their maids did it for them. Her maid thanked Mrs. Montague for her visit and informed her that she was enjoying married life. Mrs. Montague’s maid then said that her mistress was well and had brought some magazines for her to read. These turned out to be copies of a publication called ‘Doll Monthly’ and were dedicated to women living as doll wives. Her maid offered tea and two pints of liquid were brought and tubes attached to their mouths. Then reading stands were brought and set up in front of the ladies and together they perused the magazines. The articles were all about women living as dolls, different doll fashions, waste recycling, liquidised food ideas – most dolls it seemed, were not fed primarily on urine – and meal hints; restraints, rubber underclothing, doll schooling and the like. There was a large feature on husbands who regularly changed their doll wives’ faces and Charity wondered if Harry would ever do that for her. Then, after an hour or two, Mrs. Montague left and Charity retired for dinner, another two pints of diluted pee with vitamins. By this time, on top of her breakfast, she had consumed four pints and had been peeing herself regularly, the liquid collecting in her bag which was now forming a rather sloshy cushion for her to sit on. The afternoon followed a similar pattern but with no visits and by the end the bag was full to bursting and she was sat quite high on her new, self-made pee cushion.
At six Harry returned and went straight to greet her. He kissed her on her rubber cheek then went to his armchair, sat down, asked her to kneel in front of him. Then he opened his trousers, got out his manhood and got her to suck him to climax whilst he stroked her wig lovingly. Then they retired to the dining room for dinner which, as promised, was a different kind of food for Charity. That evening it was a kind of pumpkin soup placed in a large bowl which she sucked up eagerly, delighting in the exquisite taste after such different fayre all day, looking into Harry’s eyes and realising that she loved her new husband very much for caring so much about her. Then they retired to the drawing room, he unlaced her monglove, sat her on his knee like a little girl and told her a story whilst caressing her miniscule waist and huge breasts before she was taken by the maid up the stairs, stripped of her clothing, had her bag removed, (it’s contents saved for future meals), and fastened on the bed again waiting for her husband. This time though, she was not laid out like a starfish, but instead on her front with her legs attached to the bottom posts, but her arms held behind her in a single sleeve. Cushions and pillows were placed under her so that her rubberised bottom, so long the source of all her nutrition, was presented lewdly in the air. Harry soon came, whipped out his manhood, lubed it thoroughly and then proceeded to take her anally pumping in and out quite painfully, filling her hole completely before finally depositing copious quantities of his seed in there and plugging it off, then turning her over and refastening her in the spread-eagle position before relieving himself in her mouth again, kissing her goodnight, wishing her sweet dreams and going to sleep. To us that may sound terrible, but we have not been trained at St. Werburgh’s Finishing School for Young Ladies and for Charity her prime emotion at that time was of adoration for the man who had demonstrated so clearly that she excited him, that he wanted her.
And such was the life of Charity the doll, day after day, each much the same as the last, continuing ad infinitum until the day of the church fete.
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