The Mage's Young Doll

Gluttonous Doll

After becoming a doll, I enjoyed my time with the old man. I was fed well, and everything was full of comfort and fun.

I had a great sweet-tooth, so I constantly ate my beloved stuffing to quench my urges. The flavor changed daily, but it was always immensely sweet. I favored when it tasted of the sweetest, juiciest, and ripest berries; being mainly raspberries. He put it down my throat whenever I asked, so I was quite happy.

Due to the magical properties of the filling, it acted as normal food. It slowly disappeared from my fabric shell, so I needed it as a common child would need meat, vegetables, and grain.

After a week, I was well adjusted to my life seen through crystal eyes. I awoke, sight coming over me though my eyes never shut.

I looked up to kind, cheery Grandfather, which I learned to call the elder from his resemblance to one, over me. His withered face smiled as he peered at my person, and I smiled back. Even if I didn't wish to, I always smiled in response to everything, as it was my permanent expression due to a few stitches in the corners of my lips. But I didn't especially mind, as I was constantly content. I would've wanted the same face whether it was forced or not, and I'm incapable of showing my emotions without words, so I liked them. The stitches have long since come undone, and I've lost my grin; physically and mentally.

"Are you awake, Plush?" Grandfather asked, unable to tell since my eyes were unblinking. He gave me the name "Plush" since I'm made of it.

"Yes," I replied without an open mouth, unable to comprehend where my voice originated.

He removed the covers that were over my body, so the chill of the room hit me. I was so cold, though it likely wasn't anything like my current frigidity. Grandfather picked me up from my bed, my legs and arms dangling toward the ground. My head rested on his chest, and my body lay in his arms.

"Grandfather, I'm hungry. Can I have a snack?" I questioned, my voice in a begging tone. I knew I'd eat breakfast soon, but I couldn't wait. Though no hunger was in my being, I wanted it. Needed it. My soul yearned for it, and I drooled in my thoughts.

"I'm afraid you'll gain weight if I continue to give you so much, Plush. Please wait until breakfast."

"Please, Grandfather. Please. Please. I want a snack," I pleaded, wailing without tears. Though I was smiling, he knew of my childish misery and frowned. He rubbed my hair, and I whined with more force.

"Shh. Shh. It's okay. Please calm down."

"Grandfather, please. I want a snack. Please give me food. Please."

Grandfather had a sad tint in his eyes as he looked at me, and they were glazed over. He hugged onto me, my body vertical against him. My head dangled to the side, so he moved his hand and held it up. My legs and arms hung, and I could only accept the hug though I wanted to hug back.

"I'll give you some. Please calm down. I'm sorry, Plush."

"T-Thanks, Grandfather," I stuttered, mentally wiping my tears.

A sack of stuffing was pulled out of Grandfather's cloak, and I vaguely saw glimmering objects within. I could only imagine what surprises and trinkets dwelled. My mind used to imagine a ring that could grant unlimited filling that I could eat for eternity, and Grandfather would be feeding it to me while telling stories and caring for me.

He took a clump of that which I loved, gently opening my mouth. I fondly waited, and I wished for a larger grin and pink cheeks. I began to be stuffed, the sack, the size of a forearm in length and width, running out of fluff as it swiftly went into my gullet. It tasted of honey, but the best honey that ever existed. It was a perfect flavor; so sweet with a pungent flowery taste.