The next morning I was awakened by the lights coming on in the basement, and the tromping of Irwin's footsteps as he came down the stairs. I sat up, shaking my head to clear out the last vestiges of sleep. I couldn't remember the details, but I knew I'd been dreaming about shrinking again. Not very surprising, I thought. I seemed to remember Mark being there, too, but whether he was helping me or just enjoying my tiny size, I couldn't remember.
Irwin's giant face poked itself into my little room, and he smiled when he saw me. "I see you're awake," his voice rumbled. "You look as lovely in the morning as you do at night, Ashley."
"Oh, please," I replied, looking up at him. My hair was probably a total wreck, and I was sure I had dark circles under my eyes from a long night of tortured sleep. "I must look awful!"
He laughed. "Come on," he said. "I'll take you to the shower. Bring a change of clothes."
I gulped, noticing for the first time that he was clad only in a bathrobe. Was he going to shower with me now? God, I hoped not! So far I'd managed to put things like that out of my mind. I shied away from him, cowering pitifully in the corner of the plastic bedroom.
"Oh, don't worry, Ashley," he laughed at me. "I told you I'd never hurt you. Now come along, I can't have my favorite doll walking around all day dirty, can I?"
"N-no," I protested. "I don't want a shower right now, thank you."
He narrowed his eyes. "I've already asked you twice," he growled at me. "You don't want me to ask a third time, do you?"
I shuddered. What would the punishment be this time? I didn't really want to find out, I decided. Besides, it was useless to resist. He could grab me any time he wanted and drag me off without my permission.
"A-all right," I finally agreed, walking out of the bedroom cautiously, afraid he'd pick me up without any warning. I picked up my pantyhose and the leotard, then looked up at him expectantly.
"No, no, something more appropriate," he insisted. "How about this?" He pointed at a frilly-looking evening dress that looked like it would be damn near impossible to wear.
"If you say so," I replied resignedly, taking the outfit off the rack and throwing it over my arm. I didn't drop the other clothes, though, as I fully intended to wear them underneath the doll outfit.
"All right, let's go," he said, picking me up without any further delay. I managed to resist the urge to struggle against his grip, and he seemed pleased by the way I simply settled in among his fingers without resisting.
We went up the stairs and out into the main part of the house. I glanced around, looking to see if I could get any clue as to where I was. I didn't see much, just a hallway and a brief glimpse of a living room that didn't have much in the way of decoration. Then we went into the bathroom.
He set me down near the sink and started the shower, sending a fresh surge of panic through my little body. Anxiously, I looked around for someplace to hide, but the best I could do was hunker down behind a soap dispenser. This of course gave me no cover at all, and Irwin spotted me immediately after turning around. He laughed loudly, the sound echoing off the walls in the little room. "Don't be so scared, my little doll," he said. "Come out from back there!"
I stepped out, shaking from fear. I knew what he was planning, and it scared the hell out of me. "P-please don't make me do this," I begged weakly.
"What, take a shower?" he asked. "You can't possibly be afraid of a shower! I said I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I? Now take off your pajamas and get into the sink."
Then he turned the faucet on, and I let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't going to carry me into the shower with him. He wanted me to use the sink instead! Whew!
I still had to work up the courage to disrobe in front of him again, though. I started to take off the pajamas, but when I saw him staring at me, I hesitated, embarrassed. He waited patiently, watching me closely, but I just couldn't bring myself to take off my clothes and stand there completely exposed to him. Who knew what he might do to me if that set off some kind of male trigger in his head? So far he'd been kind and kept his hands to himself, so to speak, but I didn't want to tempt fate any more than I had to.
In the end, I slid down into the basin and immersed myself in the flow before taking off the pajamas. This caused him to laugh once again. "You're so modest, Ashley. I like that. It's really cute." Then he reached down and picked up the discarded, soaking outfit. "Still, you'll have to come out of there eventually, won't you?"
I gulped, but in the back of my mind I wondered why he was being so generous about this. After all, I was his toy, wasn't I? He could just pull off my clothes any time he wanted, and take advantage of me in any of the dozens of ways I'd had the misfortune of reading about on the Internet. So why didn't he?
Not that I was complaining, mind you. I just found it really odd.
Well, that hardly mattered now. I stood under the rushing water as he adjusted the temperature, using his finger to test it but not quite touching me, to my immense relief. When he was satisfied I was comfortable, he placed a bar of soap in the bottom of the sink nearby, and dabbed a drop of shampoo onto it where it wouldn't be washed away. Then he took off his robe and got into his own shower, pulling the curtain back so we could no longer see each other.
I scooped out a chunk of soap and hastily washed myself, intending to finish before he did, so I could get into my clothes first. I didn't know why he was leaving me my modesty, but I wasn't complaining.
Using the soap was an interesting challenge. If you think it's slippery at normal size, you should try being smaller sometime! I kept dropping the clumps I'd scraped off, and of course, they would then immediately be washed down the drain. In the end, I had to rub against the bar to work up a good lather, and even then, the water seemed so thick it could barely do the job of cleaning me.
The shampoo wasn't much better, as it was designed to work on normal sized hair, not strands as fine as mine. The suds it produced seemed to go everywhere, and were difficult to get out once they'd worked their way into place. It took me a lot longer to get clean than I thought it would.
Once I was done, I scuttled up the side of the sink and dried myself off with a washcloth, which was extremely rough against my skin. Then I started pulling on my clothes, keeping my back towards Irwin. I was just squeezing into the pantyhose when he emerged from the shower, wrapping himself in a towel before I could glance back and see anything inappropriate.
Not wanting to be seen virtually naked any more than I had to be, I quickly pulled on the leotard and then the Barbie dress. As I suspected, the doll outfit looked big at first, but was actually a bit too tight and very uncomfortable against my freshly washed skin. Irwin, however, grinned hugely when he saw me wearing it. "You're absolutely beautiful, Ashley," he told me. "That dress looks perfect on you!"
"Thanks," I replied, trying not to blush. He really sounded serious, and like any woman, I'm not completely immune to flattery. What he hoped to accomplish by it, though, I had no idea. I was already his prisoner, wasn't I? What did he have to gain by making me feel better about myself?
"I'm sorry I don't have a blow dryer in your size," he told me as he dried himself off. "I'll see what I can do about that, but I don't mind the wet look in the meantime."
He put his robe back on, then shut off the water in the sink and put the soap back where it belonged. Then he reached down and grabbed me again, and held me up to look at me closely. I didn't struggle, but just leaned back against his fingers, wondering what was going on in his mind as he stared at me. He had a look on his face, something I'd seen before, but where? I couldn't recall, but then again, I seemed to remember I hadn't been able to identify it then, either.
"Come on," he said after a moment. "I've got breakfast waiting."
We headed out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, where he set me down on the table next to a giant plate and a Dixie cup filled with water. Then he took a platter off the nearby stove and scooped a tiny portion of scrambled eggs onto the plate next to me. This was followed by a chunk of rather dark toast.
I looked around as he fixed his own meal, which of course was much larger than mine. I was in a very small kitchen, but one that had apparently been meticulously kept clean. There were no decorations of any kind, not even a magnet on the refrigerator. Irwin was obviously a perfectionist and a neat freak, and probably had no kids or other family. In fact, he struck me as a complete loner.
Was that it? Was Irwin Stephenson just a lonely guy who wanted someone to talk to? Not a real woman, who'd bring with her all the problems of relationships, but a pet who he could enjoy the companionship of whenever he wished? A doll, for his own amusement, but nothing more?
We ate in silence, and as we did, I thought about that. It certainly explained most of what I'd seen so far. Irwin didn't seem to want me for sexual pleasure, at least not yet, though of course that could change at any moment. In fact, he was treating me exactly as he would a favorite dog or cat, giving me a place to live, toys to play with, and all the proper care and feeding.
Well, I thought, if all he wanted was a pet, why didn't he just get a damn dog in the first place?
The answer came at once, of course. A dog couldn't talk to him, or appreciate any of his experiences. It was just a dumb beast. I was much more than that, though still just a pet nonetheless.
So why was he being so nice to me, then?
I realized the answer in a moment. Because he didn't want his favorite doll to fear him, or hate him. He wanted much more than that.
He wanted me to love him!