Mannequin Hair, part 2 of 6

Sara woke up extremely refreshed. She got up and showered. She took the device and her notes down to the kitchen where she made herself a huge bowl of cereal since she had not eaten the night before. Looking through the settings she was intrigued by one that read: Presentation: None, with other values of Packed, Boxed, and Wrapped. Each presentation type had additional settings included Addressed To under Packed and Christmas Paper under Wrapped. “Could I really have myself packed in a carton and shipped with the address option?” At times like this she really wished there were instructions.

When she finished her cereal she called her husband. “Paul.”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Paul, tell me you are coming home soon,” she admonished. “I’ve missed you.”

“Well, no, I think it will be another week.”

“I wish I could just put a stamp on myself and show up in your room. What was your room number again?”

“702 and I wish you could do that, too,” he sighed. “I’ve got to run. Now we have breakfast meetings too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Dear.”

After she hung up and cleared her dish, she got out the video camera and tripod and brought them and the headpiece to the living room. There was no mirror here but she could run the video from the camera straight to the television. Once she set this up, she set the attachment time to 10 minutes. She had learned not to set it for too long when experimenting. She closed the curtains and put on the headpiece. She had the camera above the television pointing down at her so when she was looking at the television she was also facing the camera.

“I am solid,” she thought. “I am presented with a wide red ribbon wrapped around my breasts and tied in a bow.” The ribbon felt snug against her bare breasts and the bow was neatly tied. “No presentation,” she thought. The ribbon vanished. “I guess I shouldn’t wonder where that came or went to any more than I should wonder where my head was last night.”

“I am 6 inches tall. I am made of vinyl. My hair is blond and in a pig-tail. I am wearing a purple and white checkered farm outfit. I am in a clear box with a card backing advertising me as Polly Purple.” Nothing happened, except she could now move. She took off the headpiece. She rewound the tape and there laying on the ground was the Polly Purple doll packaged in one of those blister packages with a cardboard backing. Two children were pictured playing with Polly. Looking closely she could see straps holding the doll's (her) feet down. After a few seconds the tape showed her returning to normal.

“So I am unaware when packed,” she thought. She flipped the headpiece over and scrolled through the options. She found several important ones: Aware while wrapped: Yes; Aware while boxed: No; Aware while packed: No. So that was one difference between wrapped, boxed and packed. But another set of settings were a bit more frightening: Timer runs while boxed: Yes; Timer runs while packed: No; Control while boxed: None; Control while packed: None. So since she was in a box, the timer was running. But had she been packed, she would still be laying on the floor unaware until someone opened the package. And either way, no commands would have worked. “I have to be more careful with my terminology.” She switched all of those settings to Yes.

She put the helmet on and solidified. “The next time I touch my belly button, I will become an unpackaged Polly Purple doll.” She paused then thought, “I am flesh.”

“Here goes,” she said aloud, touching her belly button. The room grew up around her. She was lying on the floor unable to move. She could feel clothing on her. “I am flesh from the waist up.” The room towered above her as she sat up. She felt the dress. It was made of the cheap kind of cloth normally found in children’s dolls. She touched her legs and the vinyl reminded her of her own childhood dolls. “I am flesh.” She walked in a circle. “I’ve got to do this when I am not experimenting with the Hair.”

She lay down on the floor. “I am a two-dimensional drawing of Polly Purple on a letter sized page of cardstock, perforated around my form for easy removal. Also on the cardstock are paper doll dresses likewise perforated for easy removal.” She felt herself flatten against the floor. Her entire back touched the floor evenly. “The cardstock is packaged in a stiff overnight mailer addressed to Paul Schofeld Room 702 c/o The Loews Regency Hotel, Park Ave., New York, NY.” The room went dark. She could feel the bubble wrap inside the mailer against her paper body.

“I am returned to normal all effects undone.” She was standing naked in front of the camera. There was no sign of a mailer. She wound the tape back and watched as the doll lay on the ground. Then a piece of paper appeared. The drawing of Polly Purple was accompanied by a farm outfit and a dress for a hoedown. Shortly, a shipping mailer appeared in its place. She could just make out the address from the weird angle.

“Perfect,” she cooed. She lowered the camera, pointing it at her feet head on. She held her left arm down by her side careful to leave a decent space between her hand and her hip. Her right arm was out to the side the elbow bent slightly downward, her hand raised in kind of a wave. Her right foot was pointed down to the ground with just her toes touching the ground. She angled her knee outward rather than forward. “I am a Polly Purple paper doll mounted on a cardstock stand.” The room grew around her. She was facing right into the camera. “A paper denim skirt hangs on my paper doll hips.” She felt the paper against her body. “A paper white blouse hangs from my paper doll shoulders.” It too appeared. “Paper sunglasses are balanced on my head.”

“I return to flesh and full-size wearing real, well-made, perfectly-sized versions of the paper clothes.” She reached up and pulled the sunglasses over her eyes. “They work,” she said. She looked down at her clothes. The blouse had some intricate eyehole inlays. The denim skirt was probably the best denim skirt she ever owned. Missing were the panties and sports bra.

She rewound the tape. A paper doll replaced her feet. The pose she picked translated well to two dimensions. The doll was drawn wearing white panties and a sport bra. As the clothes appeared she could see the paper tabs used to hold the clothes on the paper doll. And finally the doll was replaced with a shot of her feet.

“I am solid, unaware,” she thought impatiently. Oblivious of the intervening few minutes, when the attachment time ended, she took the headpiece off and started setting the wrapped settings again. When that was finished she got out some cardstock. She drew a faint outline of what her pose would be. Then drew a few paper dress sketches to match that pose on the card stock. A few hours later she was satisfied with the sketches as well as the instructions she had written. She tried a few more experiments with the Hair then she got dressed and headed out the door.

She arrived at the express delivery store just before 10 am. She put on the headpiece, activated it and turned it to normal hair. Then, gathering her stuff she locked the car and walked into the store. Thankfully she was the only customer.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the desk asked.

“Yes, can I send these papers same day?”

The man looked at the clock. “You have just a few minutes before the pickup.”

“Great, here’s my credit card and the information.” He copied down the address onto the label. She held her hand in the mailer and as he finished the transaction. She blurted out, “Oh, I also have some photocopies I need to do. Did I just hear the delivery truck out back.”

As he turned around, she quickly thought, “Activate mail fantasy with the result where my right hand is, sealing the package behind me.”

“No, I didn’t hear anything,” said the now confused man as he turned back around to an empty desk. There was no sign of the woman. But her same day envelope was sitting where he had last seen it. She must have sealed it before running out to get her papers that needed photocopying. He waited a few minutes for her to come back but when the pick up truck arrived he tossed the same day envelope into the bin with the other special handling packages. “I guess something else came up,” he thought when she did not return.

Paul returned to his hotel after negotiations that ran through dinner. He could not wait to get back to the room and relax. As he entered the hotel the concierge called him over. “Mr. Schofeld, you received an express envelope today.”

Paul took the envelope. The return label was from his office so he hurried to the elevator and his room. He pulled the papers from the envelope as he closed the door to the room. At first he thought it was a joke because he did not recognize the drawings. But then he read the top card. “Honey, I wish I could be there with you so I sent you a Sara doll to keep you company. You can dress her for a night out or a night in. But please punch out the pieces and dress her so she does not get cold. Love, Sara.”

The drawing of Sara the doll was an uncanny resemblance to his wife. She was standing with her left hand on her hip. Her body was bent toward that hip with her head cocked the other way. Her right arm pointed toward him. She was not wearing any clothes, but did have on a pair of low black pumps. To the right, with the word “OUT” written below it was a green sleeveless dress with a black belt and gold circular buckle. A purse was attached to the hip which when set correctly made it look like she was holding the purse. Next to that was a darker green half-jacket which covered her extended arm repositioning it touching her neck, fingering a nice pearl necklace. On the left, with the word “IN” written below it was a red and white lacy teddy with garters and white hosiery ending in tall, red stilettos. Next to that was a white shawl, which when set correctly placed a silver dildo in her hand.

She became aware when the envelope opened. Light entered the darkened space and soon she found herself laying face up on a table. She could see Paul reading the page she was on. She saw him smile and then get up and walk away.

Paul called home and when Sara did not answer he left this message, “Hi, Honey. That’s a cute present. I’m going to go shower and see whether I’m up for going out or staying in. Call me back, bye.” He went into the other room to disrobe and take a shower.

Sara lay on the table. She had disabled her control until she returned to flesh wearing whichever outfit he had chosen. She was feeling impatient now and while part of her was glad she could not jump the gun that did not quell her desire to leap off the page and run into the shower with her husband.

Paul returned shortly wearing just the complementary bathrobe. He flipped through the papers. There were other outfits but they did not match the pose of the paper doll. He went back to the first page and poked out the two outfits. He laid them both on the doll trying to decide which one looked better.

“It’s easier to decide when the doll is separated from the paper, Paul,” she wanted to shout.

Finally he picked one. He punched out the doll and the little semi-circular stand and stood the doll up. Then he put the dress and jacket on the doll. “That’s cute but I still feel silly,” he said aloud.

“Return to flesh three feet to my right dressed as specified before,” she thought. As she appeared, she said, “Well, prepare to be shocked.”

He was. His wife was standing in the hotel room wearing a replica of the green dress he was just playing with. And the paper doll was missing. “What in the Hell?” he exclaimed. “How? When? That dress?”

She bent down to kiss him and said, “It’s a long story, Dear. I’ll tell it to you while we are out. I’m starved. They don’t feed you on express delivery airplane trips.”

It took forever for Paul to get dressed. Each new twist to Sara’s saga made him stop and ask her to explain some detail she glossed over.

Over dinner, he interrupted, “So you’re wearing it now. That’s not your hair.”

“Yes, I’m wearing it now. Without it, the dress doesn’t exist.”

“So you could become a mannequin, right now?”

She put her hand down on the table, “Cover my hand.” As he did so, she thought, “My right hand is solid until he picks up his hand.” She whispered, “Don’t pick up your hand until you’ve felt my hand.”

He moved his hand against hers. It was cool and solid to the touch. He leaned forward and saw how smooth and unblemished it was. He moved his hand to get a better look but as he did it returned to flesh.

“I’m just stunned by all this,” he said shaking his head. “I was in this novelty shop when I saw the picture on the box. Somehow I just knew you had to have it. But I did not expect anything like this.”

By the time they returned to the hotel, she was nearly finished explaining how she had mailed herself to him. “So I was unaware of the passage of time while in the envelope. And the attachment timer was not running. Although that does not really matter as I set that time to 72 hours. I had no idea when it would be safe to turn off the Hair while I was out and about.”

“So you never checked out the CDROM?”

“No, I figured there would be time some other time,” she said. “Now how about I slip into something more erotic?”