#doll tf

[uberthemeh]

By popular demand, heres my robot girl and doll girl yuri

[pobblebonked]

your very own customizable and posable Em

[saphig-iawn]

Reblog if you're fed up of performing this character people have forced you into and just want to be a doll on my lap with no stress or worries

[darkwitchclaire]

clockwork

doll tf microfic. cw for dubcon

"How did you get so many dolls?" You ask.

"I collect them," replied the witch. "Sometimes I buy them from other collectors, sometimes I find them abandoned in mysterious places. Most, however, are from visitors who come here."

"So they give you dolls?"

"They become dolls," the witch corrected. "Would you like a demonstration?"

"Perhaps." You admit you're very intrigued.

The witch opened a drawer underneath a shelf and took out a large wind-up key, smoothly inserting it into your upper back as if you had always been meant to receive it. The sensation sent spikes of pleasure throughout your body.

She rotated the key one quarter-turn clockwise and your right arm went limp, still knowing it's there but unable to move or feel it.

A second quarter-turn and your right leg went limp.

A third quarter-turn and now your left leg went limp.

One final quarter-turn and you were unable to move any of your limbs, unsure about what was going to happen next.

Sensing your trepidation, she leaned in and whispered, "It's going to be ok. You don't have to worry anymore."

She gave the key one full turn and all thoughts disappeared from your mind. You gazed at her blankly. You were hers to mold.

"Now repeat after me," she said. "I am a good doll."

"I am a good doll," you repeated. You wouldn't dare defy her.

She gave the key another full turn. You could feel your body slowly regain energy.

"My purpose is to serve Miss."

"My purpose is to serve Miss."

She gave the key another full turn.

"I will always be obedient to Miss."

"I will always be obedient to Miss."

She gave the key another full turn. Each rotation made you feel happier.

"What Miss wants makes me happy."

"What Miss wants makes me happy."

She gave the key another full turn. It felt so right to be like this.

"I am a good doll."

"I am a good doll."

She rotated the key a few more times before removing it. You looked down at your hands, now porcelain with ball joints. You could sense a faint ticking sensation from inside you that felt calming.

She looked down at you, smiling. "You are such a beautiful doll."

Miss was happy. You were happy.

[carminejade]

🗝️A Key For Your Heart 🗝️

[CW/Content Expectations: Dollification, "slow" movement loss]

You hadn't thought much of it when the compiler spat out a key one morning. Sure the box printed it up with your outfit for the day, but you definitely hadn't requested a key when you asked for the frilliest, most gender affirming pastel dress in the system. Either way, the box wouldn't acknowledge it as unnecessary so you just pocketed it before going about your day. You worked tech support before the Compact arrived so maybe it was just a buggy machine. Some things were just a fact of life.

And you forgot about it.

When you were bathing that night, you noticed a small black mark on your budding chest, right above your heart. It didn't hurt, and seemed to just be a freckle or something equally benign. Your vet said as much when you went for an emergency check-up the following morning. Just an adorably harmless mark on an adorably harmless terran. You went home with a pat on the head and a small amount of praise for being so proactive. Something didn't click, but you accepted you were just a bit worried.

The next day's outfit was adorable. Small strings adorned the sleeves of your dress with white blossoms all down the back. The pastel blue color looked adorable on you, and small keyhole patterns adorned the collar oh so cutely. You swished in the skirt, humming when you heard it. A faint ticking. It stopped immediately but every so often you could hear a soft ticking in the distance. Even when out and around town, the faint sound of a steady ticking would occasionally pop up. Another emergency vet visit said nothing was wrong and your ears were working perfectly fine. The helpful affini gave you an inhaler with a Class-E/F mixture if the sound came back and caused another anxiety flare up.

When you left, you took a puff and basked in the mental tranquility of the blend. You stumbled a bit getting home, but the abundance of friendly, helpful affini meant you had no problem getting home safely and easily. The compliments of how cute you were and all the petting were a fair price to pay for getting home safely. You didn't remember how you got inside, but you sluggishly rolled over in bed when you heard the whizzing of the compiler.

The key was back.

Movement the next day was a bit tougher. You didn't notice at first with the usual clumsiness of anything in the E classification, but your movement was sluggish. Your hands felt clumsier when you buttoned up your dress. Maneuvering utensils felt harder for some reason, and each step took more effort than usual. You considered going out as usual, but instead you found yourself relaxing on your soft couch and sometimes bed watching tv. Again, the faint ticking would come back but your inhaler helped you stay calm until it faded away. You were just not used to the dosage, you told yourself. You lived relatively sober by Compact standards, so this much of an E/F dosage was probably something you weren't used to.

The mark over your heart was even bigger that night.

Movement was an actual struggle two days later. You could barely get out of bed to try and decompile the new version of that key sitting there. Something was definitely wrong, you could feel it. Your arm was so stiff when you went to take a hit of the inhaler to keep yourself calm. The stiffness in your thumb felt painful as you tried to stay calm. You hadn't even been able to undress last night, still clad in the beautiful, frilly dress from the day before. It was difficult to part your lips and beg your Hab's AI to call the vet for you. Then you heard it.

The ticking was back. And it was louder.

You took another inhale to try and stop the panic and the stiffness increased again. No... The inhaler fell from your fingers as you realized why you just got more and more immobile. It was too late, the drugs circulating through your body as you laid in your soft bed. The compiler fizzled with another key as you heard your Hab AI chirp a greeting. Someone was here. The vet? Your eyes were so heavy... You closed them...

When you open them next, your body is immobile. You could barely move your eyes to study the high ceiling. Very high ceiling. The kind meant for affini. You could feel the soft silken fabric of whatever dress you were wearing in spite of your immobility. Vines gently seized you, the smiling face of the affini who carried you home greeting you. "There you are~ My darling little doll has come back to me~!"

She produced that key, a small brass key with a heart grip made of some pearlescent material that matched the white blooms in her 'hair'. One of her vines brought it closer and closer until it left your narrow field of view. You could feel it entering you; right where your heart was. There was a tightness as she kissed you on the head. "Now let's get my little dolly wound up to start her day!" The first twist dragged a pleasured gasp from your dry lips. They were dry like ceramic but could still feel. There was a twitching in your body as she twisted the key again.

The sound of a clock or toy being wound up.

Another twist dragged a whimpering moan from your mouth. You couldn't even breathe so why were you gasping? Each turn of the key took more effort, the tension increasing as she wound you up. How many? How many times had she turned that key now?! "One more, dolly. Then you're mine~" Then you were what? "With this, I declare you my adorable doll, and precious little floret~"

Turn. She delicately slid the key from the slot in your chest and you heard it. You felt it.

Tick tick tick tick tick~

[accursedkn1ght]

I do not have the time to make full pieces but for now… take this doodle.

[empressdrusilla]

I am a nurse-doll.

I refer to myself as “I” here not because doll has any personhood, but because those unfamiliar who may come across these writings may not understand that when doll says “doll”, she is referring to herself. With that stated, Doll is a nurse-doll.

What is a nurse-Doll?

A nurse-doll is first and foremost, a doll. This means that she is to serve her Dollmaker. Dollmaker’s will is what powers doll, what gives her motion and thought. Gives her life. So, doll was made to serve. Doll is expected to be polite, obedient, and kind. Doll is expected to be dutiful, fastidious, and precise. Every facet of her being was made just so, and as such, she should emulate her making in her actions.

Doll is to do tasks. This is where her designation as nurse-doll comes in.

As a nurse doll, her specific instruction (as opposed to the other dolls of Dollmaker’s estate) is twofold.

One, she is to take care of Dollmaker when Dollmaker is in ill health, or indisposed. This can include the fetching of soups, teas, and the like, or the application of a cold rag to her Dollmaker’s forehead. This can also include being cuddled by her Dollmaker, or being posed and looking pretty for Dollmaker. A doll is decoration as well as servant and companion.

Secondly, she is to tend to the other dolls. This is the work she ends up performing more often, as many of the other dolls are prone to mistakes, accidents, and flights of fancy that make them act undollish. It is dolls responsibility to ensure that all dolls on her maker’s estate remain in line while her maker is away, indisposed, or otherwise engaged. She is to tend to the other dolls physical and emotional states.

How did doll become a nurse-doll?

Herein, doll will detail the process of the discovery and unveiling of a doll.

Many years ago, doll was under the delusion that she was human. She never felt right being one, but she did not know she could be anything else. And so, doll attempted to force herself into the shape of a human, the function of a person, another head in the crowd.

This was not good for doll. Her clockwork went untended, her porcelain remained hidden under false skin and fat, she was not being cared for by a Dollmaker.

Eventually, in despair at her existance as a person, doll wandered into the woods to finish it.

Fate had other plans though.

In her wanderings, doll came across Dollmaker’s manor, though she did not know it would be her Dollmaker’s yet. Her curiosity momentarily overpowered her despair, and so, she knocked on the door.

Dollmaker was waiting for doll. Dollmaker always knew her doll would come to her one day. Her first doll. Her favorite doll. Dollmaker had plucked at the strings of fate, and made sure doll had arrived before it was too late.

Doll remembers little of the ensuing month. Dollmaker says it is better to forget, as the process of becoming a doll can be painful and frightening. Doll knows though, that now she is happy. She is her true self.

Doll has now seen— and assisted— with T he process of creating a doll. It is, as Dollmaker said, painful and frightening. Many dolls do not realize they are one, as this doll did not. Many dolls are stubborn, or in denial, as they have been forced to shape themselves into the shape of a person. So, while doll would never wish to see such things inflicted on a person, they are necessary for most dolls, and doll knows how much happier they will be once it is over. If they are good, Dollmaker will help them forget, too.

Who is your Dollmaker?

She is the one who saved doll. She is the one who collected all these dolls. Her manor is staffed with twelve, now. Many still bear cracks in their porcelain, rips in their fabric, dents in their wood, from the time before they knew what they were. When they punished themselves for not being a person right, when they were never meant to be one in the first place.

There are maid-dolls, comfort-dolls, play-dolls, cook-dolls, and more. They are all so happy now. Dollmaker made them happy. Dollmaker saved them.

Doll knows that perhaps a person reading this text may be unsatisfied with this answer. To them, the question of who someone is is of their name, their career, where they have been, where they will go. To a doll, we know this is not important. However, doll shall oblige her potential readers for this moment.

Dollmaker’s name shall not leave any doll’s lips. It is not for them to say. Many dolls are not even yet trusted enough to have heard it. To hear it is an honor.

Otherwise, Dollmaker was once a renowned doctor of psychology, and later took an interest in physical medicine as well. When that life bored her, Dollmaker acquired her manor deep into the woods, so that she might have privacy to study more mystical arts. This is how she twisted fate, this is how Dollmaker makes dolls fully into dolls, with clockwork and stuffing and strings and whatever else they may have.

Eventually, Dollmaker wishes to save all the dolls of the world. All the dolls who do not know they are dolls yet, she wishes to help them.

That is who Dollmaker is to a person.

What is the process of making a doll?

Each and every doll is unique, so the process varies slightly for each individual. However, as this nurse-doll has now participated in the unveiling of eleven dolls, and so she can lay out a basic framework.

Step one: finding a doll. Most of the time, Dollmaker can not tweak the strings of fate to bring the doll directly to her. Doll was a special case, where her own fate drew her close to Dollmaker.

Usually, Dollmaker can find a doll, but they must be brought to her.

This is generally the first hurdle. Many dolls are scared of being taken. This is because, of course, they still think they are a person, and a person would not want to be taken. A person has a life, friends and family. However, a doll is not a person, and therefore, has none of those things. its family shall be its siblings in dollhood. its friends shall be the same. Its life shall be Dollmaker. This is the nature of a doll.

Step 2: Initial Convincing.

Once the doll has been collected and brought to Dollmaker’s estate, they must be introduced. This was more difficult earlier, when there were fewer dolls, and so they could not see how happy every doll is. How they do not miss their old life. More recently, some dolls have been able to go directly to unveiling from here, but doll shall go over that later.

For many dolls, the initial convincing takes the form of the stripping away of humanity. A doll may be stripped of clothing, or be forced to renounce its family on punishment of beatings. It may be isolated, put in a cage, chained to a wall, denied a name, and other such things.

Doll reminds the reader that these processes are necessary. Much as when a bone sets incorrectly, and you must break it again, these dolls set incorrectly into the shapes of humans, and must be broken anew.

In whatever way is determined by Dollmaker to be most effective on that doll, it is denied its perceived humanity, so it can begin to realize how much lighter it feels without it. It is stripped of its false personhood, until there is blank canvas left. This process can take anywhere from one month to just upwards of a year, depending on the doll, and how misshapen it was.

Step three: creating a doll.

Now that the doll has been stripped of its humanity, it is left blank. This is because it never had a chance to develop into a doll at all, and so could not find its own form. There are many types of doll, in fact.

Doll is a porcelain doll, delicate and graceful. Her hands are steady for her medical work, her porcelain bright white, painted in China blues and brilliant golds.

Other dolls may be made of fabric and rags, full of stuffing. Some are wooden, controlled by strings, simple and delightful. Some are clockwork, or paper, or miniature, or plastic, or any number of other ones. Neither doll nor Dollmaker has seen every type of doll, as there is a vast quantity, and we have only just begun our work.

This step is focused on finding the proper form for the doll. The shape of their being, what they will be happiest as, and then applying the proper procedures to create such a thing.

It is a combination of psychology, surgery, and magic to accomplish these things, and as it is unique to every doll, doll shall not go over the specifics.

By the end, the doll will be fully formed, but not quite yet done.

Step 4: Unveiling.

This is when a doll finally admits to itself that it is a doll, and that it belongs to Dollmaker. This is when the doll accepts joy and bliss into its little dollish heart and mind. It is a beautiful thing. There is no sweeter sound in the world to doll than that of another doll finally finding itsself. Finally finding a family that fits it. Finally finding home. Finally, finally, finally finding a Dollmaker to take care of it.

(Those dolls that skip step two and three are those who already had suspicions they were a doll, and a form already showed beneath their false skin. This has happened twice, and is due to the sheer volume of happy dolls here easing the residual fears of lingering personhood.)

So, that is the simplified process of the creation and rescue of a doll.

To any who may read this: if you are reading it, it likely means you are in Dollmaker’s estate. Which means likely, you are a doll. Even if you think you are a person. This doll begs you. As a nurse. As a doll. As a sister. Please cooperate, and understand.

Everything we do here is for your own good.

[entomologistsblood]

puts you into the character creator and slides your weight settings wayyyy up then wayyyy down and then wayyy up again because you were cuter that way. and spins you and zooms in and stretches and pulls at ur face into a lovely new shape. cute features. picking eye colors and ear shapes. lets see what other sliders we have