Welcome To the Dreamhouse

You’re up for a high level management position at the Mattel head office.

When you applied, you were secretly giddy at the thought of allowing your sissy life to creep (just a touch) into your vanilla world. Not only that, but it would mean a huge pay raise.. you couldn’t be any more thrilled.

You’re already super nervous, but when you arrive at the address and pull around the lush, pink rose covered hedges, your little sissy pulse begins to race even faster. It’s not the Mattel tower like you were expecting, but THE BARBIE MANSION!! Never in your wildest fluffy pink dreams did you think you would ever get to set foot inside the Dreamhouse! You approach the door slowly, taking it all in, looking up at THE Barbie Mansion in all it’s splendour. Your palms are sweaty and your throat feels dry. You ring the doorbell. After what feels like an eternity, the door opens. It’s like Barbie Herself has answered it. Her manner is warm and courteous, oddly.. familiar. She sets you right at ease. You can’t help but blush at the dainty way She grasps your hand, She’s truly breathtaking. She could be Barbie from any era, perfectly ladylike in all that She does. Or maybe, She already knows you shake hands like a sissy.

Clearly a high level Mattel Executive, you wonder why She’s opened the door Herself. No matter, She’s such a poised and gracious Hostess that you don’t really even think twice of it. Or of the fact that you’re alone here. No secretaries, no security, no housekeepers. As She shows you around, you can see that Barbie is not only a doctor, a teacher, a mommy and a princess, but She also has some interesting taste in furniture. Regardless, you’re pretty sure that cage is from Her lion tamer days.. isn’t it?

Before you can begin to wrap your mind around it, another even more outrageous thought creeps in, is She.. flirting with you? She’s so genuine, and polite. It must be all in your head. Come to think of your head, it feels kind of funny. Lighter, warmer.. it’s that soft way She’s talking to you, the way She leans in, grasping your arm as She whispers. You cling to Her every word, yet you can’t for the life of you remember a thing She’s said. It’s like your brain is being emptied, thought by thought, getting warmer and lighter with each flash of that perfect Barbie smile. A Master of Her craft, by the time you realize what’s happening, you’re in too deep to care. Gazing into Her eyes, you are transfixed, held spellbound. You would do anything She asked.

She smiles, a glimmer of the sinister, and purrs “it’s time kitten, hand Me your tie.” Time? Time for what? But the minute you think it, another wave of euphoria washes over you. You remove your tie, and hand it to her. She answers, as though She’s heard you, beginning to unbutton your carefully pressed dress shirt, “Time to find out what life in the Dreamhouse is really all about. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? To be just like Barbie..”