Sally Returns..?

The next morning... Sun bled through the curtains of Sally’s bedroom, casting long, golden fingers across the floorboards. Sally sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers trembling as she traced the faint, lingering ache in her lower abdomen. It had been three days since her first "assignment" at Jimmy’s Sweet Tarts. She had scrubbed herself raw in the bath that evening, watching the cloudy, thick remnants of the shopkeeper’s seed swirl down the drain, yet she could still feel him. A phantom weight seemed to press against her insides, a sticky memory that no amount of soap could erase. She looked at her brown leathery boots. They sat by the door, waiting.

"I don't wanna.."

She whispered, her voice small and cracking.

"Me'maw will be fine.. r-right..?"

But a promise was a promise, and the thought of Me'maw’s disappointed face—the way the old woman’s shoulders slumped when the shop was empty—tugged at her heart. Sally was a creature of habit and kindness, a ditz who often forgot her own fears in the face of someone else's sadness.

By noon, she found herself back in the cool, peppermint-scented air of Mary’s shop. The magi-cooler hummed a low, rhythmic tune, keeping the summer heat at bay. Mary stood behind the counter, her antique bronze jewelry clinking as she polished a glass display case filled with rock candy.

"There you are deary! I was startin to wonder if the summer heat had melted your resolve!"

Sally shifted her weight, her large, rounded breasts swaying beneath the bib of her overalls. The heart-shaped clasp felt tight, almost restrictive.

"Me'maw... I don't think I wanna go back there.."

Mary paused, a playful glint in her gray eyes.

"Now, why is that? Did the big man shout at you again? Or did you trip over another barrel of taffy?"

"N-No.., it's... he's just... I felt funny after the last time."

Mary chuckled, a dry, wheezing sound.

"You’re just having a little spell, Sally. You've always had a vivid imagination. It's just childish nerves. That man is a bit loud and a bit large, but he's a businessman. He needs the help, and you're the only one brave enough—or dense enough—to take the job. Remember, it's to help this shop..!"

"B-But I'm really not feeling it..!"

"Nonsense. A little more work will clear your head. Now, come along. The doll is waiting."

Sally followed her favorite old lady to the back room, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. The Gothic Lolita doll sat on the table, its porcelain face frozen in a vacant, wide-eyed stare. The black lace of its dress was intricate, contrasting sharply with the pale, stuffed skin of its limbs.

Sally knelt before the doll, her knees hitting the wooden floor with a soft thud. She looked at the magic crest engraved on the doll's stomach, then down at the corresponding mark on her own skin, just above her womb.

"Uuu.." Sally whimpered.

"Shhh.. now close your eyes. Think of the candy dear, think of the coins for the register. Just a few hours, and you'll be back in your own skin before you know it. And we'll have the recipe we need.. make sure to look for it while your body is working!"

Sally closed her eyes. She felt the familiar, sickening tug—a sensation of being pulled through a straw. The world blurred, the scent of peppermint vanished, and suddenly, the perspective shifted.

She opened her eyes. The ceiling was miles away. The table leg looked like a redwood tree. She looked down at her stubby, cotton-filled arms and the heavy lace of the Lolita dress. She was small. She was soft. She was a toy. Beside her, her real body stood up. The transition was seamless. The "Dummy Sally" stood rigid, her expression blank, her blue eyes vacant. She looked like a masterpiece of flesh, the denim of her overalls straining against her bountiful chest, the straps digging into her creamy shoulders.

"There we go,"

Mary whispered, patting the dummy's cheek.

"You're all set deary, you know the drill. Not too hard now is it~?"

Doll Sally didn't speak—she couldn't, not in the way humans did—but she let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak of alarm.

"Quickly now!" Mary urged.

"Cling to the boot. Don't let go until you're inside."

Sally scrambled forward, her cotton limbs awkward and heavy. She leaped, grabbing onto the thick leather of her own working boot, clinging to the laces with all her might. The world began to shake as the dummy body turned and marched toward the door. Each step was a seismic event, the ground rushing up to meet her.

As they stepped out into the village square, the heat hit them like a physical wall. Doll Sally could feel the warmth radiating off the leather boot. She looked up and saw the sight of her own body from below—the massive, rounded curves of her thighs, the way the tight panties with the bear print squeezed her bubble butt, creating a deep, inviting valley. It was a view that made her feel exposed, even though she was the one watching.

The dummy marched in a straight line, ignoring the children and the parents. It stopped in front of Jimmy’s Sweet Tarts. The colorful mascots on the window seemed to mock her with their wide, painted grins. The dummy entered the shop. The chime of the door rang out, a bright, cheerful sound that felt like a warning. Once inside, Doll Sally felt the shift in air. The shop was humid, smelling of burnt sugar and old grease. She let go of the boot and quickly scrambled under a heavy oak display case filled with oversized lollipops.

["I'm he-here.."]

she thought, her little doll heart racing.

["I'll stay right here. I'll see what he's really doing."]

For the first few hours, everything was unnervingly normal. The ol fat shopkeeper Jimmy appeared from the back, his massive gut leading the way. He was wearing a clean white apron today, though it struggled to contain the rolls of his stomach. He smiled at the dummy, a wide, toothy grin that didn't reach his small, beady eyes.

"Oh~!? Back again, are we girlie? I must say, you're a dedicated lil worker. Figured you'd be off soon anything else but.. here you are."

The dummy Sally didn't respond. It simply nodded, its movements stiff and robotic.

"Good, good.. I've got a lot of restocking to do. Just stay by the register for now. I'll call you when I need a hand in the back."

Sally went straight into hiding, picking a place behind the lollipops, from there she watched him. To her surprise however.. he was acting like a saint. He helped a customer with a smile, he hummed a little tune, he even offered a free piece of fudge to a passing child. The children seem to flood the store with smiles and joy, the atmosphere within the entire store was seemingly harmless and wholesome..

["W-Was.. I wrong?"]

Sally wondered.

["Maybe he really did just have a heart attack. Maybe I imagined the... the feeling. M-Maybe i saw wrong.."]

But then, the memory surged back. She remembered the sensation of the shower, the way the warm water had felt against her skin, and the lingering, heavy warmth inside her that had lasted for hours. She remembered the way her body had felt swollen, almost bruised, the next morning.

"..mm"

she whispered to herself, the cotton of her face pressing against the dust of the floor. As the afternoon passed like a fleeting time, the crowd thinned. The "Closed" sign was flipped. The shop fell into a heavy, expectant silence.

"Alright girlie,"

Jimmy's voice boomed, the kindness now replaced by a low, hungry rasp.

"Shift's over for the front. How bout' you come with me to the back. I've got some shelves that need a bit of.. organizin."

The dummy turned and followed him. Doll Sally didn't hesitate. She scrambled out from under the display case, her little lace dress catching on a splinter of wood. She hurried after them, staying low to the ground, weaving between the candy barrels and the shelves of jars.

"I s-should maybe be looking for the recipe Me'maw wanted B-But.. what if—"

["..it happens again when I'm not looking."]