"Brother, why are you hiding?"

I peered out from under the table at my older sister. "Mom's trying to put dresses on me again."

She giggled. "You're her doll, brother. She had you gelded so that you wouldn't put up such a fuss."

The castration had taken place not too long ago. I was still sore back there. Mother was a toy designer who wanted a house full fillies to play dress up with. Then along I came, the colt she never wanted. But, figured I could still be of use. First remove my unsightly maleness, and purchase an expensive magical potion to stunt my growth.

A full eunuch, nothing remains, she has finally been showering me with the love I have longed for so long. I was her doll, her little toy that she could dress up and play with all she wanted. While I love the affection and attention... I do not want to wear dresses. I don't want to have tea parties.

There was still some testosterone lingering in my veins. Much to her chagrin. She often has to chase me about the house, though she says it's only a matter of time before I finally submit to my new purpose.

What was my old purpose? I wish I knew. I asked her once, and she just laughed.

"Doll, there you are."

I cringed. That was my name by the way. Doll. It was who and what I was.

In her magic, mother had a frilly pink dress, a sun hat, and a baby bottle. My full name is Baby Doll. You get the picture.

I shrieked and made a break for it. My traitorous big sister stopped me, however, laughing as my legs flailed in the air.

"Bad dolls don't get any chocolate pudding," mother scolded me as she took me in her own magic and shoved me into the dress and plopped the hat down upon my head. "Now, just let mommy hold you until you're done with your bottle."

Before I could protest, the bottle's nipple was shoved into my mouth.

"It took mommy all day to make that," mother said, as she cradled me in her hooves as though I were an infant. "I don't want to see a single drop wasted."

Mother was on a journey to reinduce lactation so that she could play better games with dolly. So far, a single bottle's worth was all she was getting. But, soon enough she'd be comfortably playing these games all the time with her favorite dolly.

Defeated, a placed a hoof on either side of the bottle, causing her to release her magic hold. I settled down and drank the warm milk. It was sweet. Too sweet. She ate too much sugar. But, I dared not complain. Bad dolls didn't get chocolate pudding, but really bad dolls got put in the timeout room.

She nuzzled my head and hummed a lullaby as she rocked from side to side. My sister looked on with a smile on her face, tail lightly flicking about jealously. But, she was too big to be mother's doll. Besides, I was the only one mother wanted for this purpose.

Sucking hard to make sure I got it all, lest mother become upset, I released the nipple and managed to give her a sweet smile. "Thank you, mommy."

"Only the best for Dolly," she chimed as she kissed my nose. Unfortunately, she saw me frown for a split second. "What's the matter, Doll? Is mommy doing something wrong?"

I gulped. "N-no, mommy. I-it's all good."

She scowled. "Only really bad dolls lie. And really bad dolls go to the time out room."

"It's too sweet," I blurted out quickly.

She blinked. "Too sweet? What's too sweet?"

"Your milk," I cringed, almost rolling into a ball as she stared at me, nonplussed.

"My milk is too sweet for you?"

I gave a little nod. "I-it hurts my throat, mommy. Y... you're eating too much sugar."

Much to my relief, she seemed to understand. "Oh, poor baby. Was mommy's diet ruining your meal? Well, we can't have this spoiling our playtime. I shall begin cutting back to just three slices of cake a day, with more fruits and vegetables."

I sighed in relief and smiled.

"But you still lied to mommy."

I froze and looked up into her disappointed eyes. She was frowning too. I felt cold.

"I-I'm sorry, mommy, please don't make me go there," I pleaded, sniffing even. "I... I just didn't want to upset you."

"Upset me?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "My Baby Doll isn't enjoying itself. These playtimes are supposed to be about us having fun. How can you learn to have fun as my dolly if something so important is spoiling everything?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I cried, tears forming in my eyes.

"Don't you want playtime to be perfect?"

"Yes, yes," I cried aloud. "I want to be a good dolly. I want playtime to be perfect, mommy."

"Obviously you don't want it enough, Baby Doll," she snorted levitating in her magic like I was a kitten. "A hour in the timeout room ought to help your attitude."

"No-no-no," I wept as she slowly carried me through the halls of our spacious home. The walls the sickening color of candies, the carpet was pink and the ceiling looked like a cloud.

It was a dollhouse.

"If you manage not to scream this time, I'll make just a half an hour," mother told me as she promptly chucked me into the timeout room. As soon as I hit the padded floor, I rushed for the door, but she slammed it in my face and locked it tight.

"Please," I begged. "I'll be a good dolly. Don't leave me."

"A good dolly loves mommy."

I cringed as the recordings started up. It was too late to beg for mercy. I turned so that my back was placed against the wall, and looked about the room and terror.

Written everywhere were thousands of messages. MOMMY LOVES YOU. BE A GOOD DOLLY. YOU'RE NOT A REAL PONY. YOU ARE A TOY. YOU ARE MOMMY'S PLAYTHING. A GOOD DOLLY PLAYS WITH MOMMY. A GOOD DOLLY BEHAVES FOR MOMMY.

Those messages I could shut out be closing my eyes. But the recordings were loud and not even my hooves could block the noise.

"A good dolly knows that mommy loves it."

"A good dolly doesn't want anything more than for mommy to be happy."

"A good dolly does what mommy says."

"A good dolly knows its place."

"A good dolly doesn't argue."

"A good dolly never says no."

"A good dolly..."

I didn't last more than ten minutes before shrieking and pounding on the door. When the hour was over, mommy opened the door with a big smile on her face as she picked me up in her magic and cuddled me close to her breast. She told me I was a good dolly.

I was a good dolly.

I was a good dolly.

I was a good dolly.

I was a good dolly.

I was a good doll.

Baby Doll was good.