Claire was whistling as she exited the subway. Today was a good day. The very one that would make all her hard work worth it. As she entered the employee parking lot of the museum she drew her daggers in a fluid motion. Here she was reasonably sure that no one would see her. No one around to panic. The daggers didn't just found the way into her hands. They spun around and danced around her fingers. Despite being razor sharp not one cut appeared on Claire's hands as she twirled them. This was how far her training had gotten.

Sixty feet away from the security guards booth to the side entrance she stopped. On her behest, both her daggers shot straight up in the air. One of them not quite as high. Just high enough so Claire could take momentum. Twirling around herself she caught the dagger mid-fall and used the momentum to throw it forward not a half second later. Another half turn of herself later the second dagger was thrown too.

To a spectator, the flying twin daggers would have been a silver blur. The guard in that booth was completely surprised. Two loud pangs made him jump up. After a moment his heart racing stopped. At the side door, he could see both daggers had pierced the wood a good two inches. Around them the remains of two ballons. The guard lifted his cap as he scratched his head. Then gave Claire the stink eye as she retrieved her daggers.

"Do we have to do this every morning Claire?" he complained. "You are getting better. And I am getting low on balloons."

"Without my training, I'll get rusty," Claire replied as she pulled her second dagger out. "Besides Anthony. Without them, you might fall asleep at work."

"Not seeing any drawback," Anthony replied as he opened the door for Claire. "Today is the big day, isn't it?"

"Finally!" Claire gushed. Gone was the serious dagger wielder from her face. Replaced by the excitement of a small child. "My own exhibit. I can't wait."

"Then in with you," Anthony said and ushered her in. As he closed the door she could hear him mutter "And let me nap-"

Claire shrugged. Nothing could diminish her good mood today. She sheated her two daggers in her hip holsters and marched on. She stopped at one of the prep shops and grinned as she saw the sign. "Buds Melone exhibit - Lead curator Claire Beaumont".

She opened the shop and saw a bunch of crates waiting for her. This was it. Her first exhibit she was in charge of. The story of Buds Melone. This exhibit had been her idea. The Verrencia exhibit was closing down. To be shipped to another museum. It had been Claire's idea to fill the space with an exhibit about the most dangerous gangster of all time. To her surprise not only had the museum directorate agreed but also given her the lead. This was her chance and she intended to prove that the trust in her had been right.

Most of the crates were smaller and were branded with the marks of the police. Many of these had been stored in an evidence warehouse. Just in case they could one day apprehend Buds Malone. When they raided his safehouse they found a lot. Just not Buds Melone.

Now, eighty-two years after the raid, no one believed him to be alive anymore. The police were just too eager to free some space as Claire requested those many pieces of evidence for the exhibit. Grinning she drew her daggers. Who needed a crowbar anyway? Their sharp edge slipped into the wooden cracks easily enough.

It was two hours into the unpacking that she found the first really strange item. Before, there had been plenty of explainable items. Documents and items tied to Buds Melone and his organization. But now she held a silver key in her hand. One unnaturally big. The overall length about a foot. A good inch thick was the old style beard. The flanges big enough that she could grab them with both hands if the wanted to turn the key. Provided she ever found they keyhole made for this big key. Frowning, she put it aside and returned her attention to other crates.

It was late in the afternoon when Claire had nearly all crates open. Only the largest one left. She knew this was only the first load. There was plenty of work left for her the next morning when the next load arrived. She could do the rest of her work tomorrow, but somehow this crate vexed Claire. It was bigger than her. Nearly seven feet in height. What might be big enough to warrant such a large crate? Claire had to find out.

With her daggers, she worked a side loose and as she lifted it away Claire gasped. "Sugardoll!" she said aloud in awe. Buds Melone was not only known as a gangster. He was also called as one of the big perverts in history. It was just that no one dared to with it to his face when he had been alive. Now Claire saw with her own eyes what she had known through photographs. Buds Melone's legendary sex doll was real.

She had been the inspiration for every sex doll later produced. How Buds Melone came to own her was a thing of rumors and speculation. Manufacturing her in the era of Buds Melone's activity had been highly unlikely. Yet she existed. Claire could see it with her own eyes.

Sugardoll was perfectly conserved too. The clothing on her was rotten and half eaten by moths. Yet the doll was unblemished and perfect. Claire could have sworn there was a person before her if not for the perfect skin. Too smooth to be real. Her skin tone just a tad too light. The hair just too perfect. But so was every other detail about her. Claire whistled in appreciation. She wasn't into women, but even she had to agree that Sugardoll was a thing of beauty.

"You, my dear, had been utterly wasted as a sex doll," Claire said aloud. Of course, the doll didn't answer. Not that Buds Melone had ever cared. He didn't just use her as a sex doll. There were pictures of him having her at all kinds of social functions. Even one when he had dressed the doll up in mourning attire for a funeral. To say Buds Melone's attention to his doll was creepy is the understatement of the century. Rumor was that Buds owned a second doll, but no one had ever seen her.

"Let's get you out of there," Claire murmured as she pulled the doll out of the crate. She was surprisingly heavy and Claire nearly dropped her as the dust of the crate made her sneeze. The clothing was utterly ruined. There was no helping it. Claire cut them away. All the while gitty with excitement. With Sugardoll in the exhibit, it was sure to draw attention and visitors to the museum.

Once freed of cloth, Claire was free to examine the doll. Even up close she was without blemish. And so very anatomically correct that Claire had to fight a blush. Only as Claire rolled the doll on its belly she saw something truly artificial. Right in the middle of her spine, the doll had a hole the size of Claire's own thumb. It was rimmed in a silvery metal and had an inch deep cut out. It reminded her of-

"It's a keyhole!" she shouted out loud. Her eyes roamed wild until she found the place she had placed the oversized key. With a sprint she retrieved it. Then held it over the keyhole of the doll. "There is more to you than anyone ever figured out," Claire told the doll. "Share your secrets with me."

She pushed the key in until she heard a click. Then there was a scream of a woman. Primal and loaded with raw emotion. It spoke of panic, fear, and survival.

And the scream came not from Claire.

* * * * * Eighty-seven years earlier * * * * *

To say Emilio was nervous was an understatement. He was close to panicking. Still, he made one step after another. Right into the lair of the lion. Emilio hated the very fact that he had to be here. That it had come to this.

He was a scholar of mathematics. Statistics to be precise. All he had wanted to was to prove some of his theories right. And it worked. In the beginning. He could pick out winning horses on the racetrack nine out of ten times. It made him some money. But it all changed. Soon not a single prediction came true. The very statistics he relied on suddenly not making any more sense. He wasn't a gambler, yet he had to try again and again.

First, he owed money to friends. Then he borrowed money from the wrong guys. When he still lost, payments were due. To none other than Buds Melone. Emilio wasn't stupid. As soon as he heard the name he knew something was foul. His statistics didn't make sense since the races were rigged.

Emilio walked away. At least as far as he dared. No more gambling. It wasn't his vice anyway. He earned money the hard way. The honest way. Slowly, but surely he paid his debts. Then there was a sudden windfall. The means to pay off the last chunk to his bookie. But the very one refused. He told Emilio that Buds Melone wanted to see him. Personally.

That was brought Emilio here today. In his clammy hands, a leather bag with the money owed. His heart was beating a mile a minute. Only the very thought that after today he was done with this dark side of society kept him together.

He was waved through a dozen checkpoints. Buds Melone had bunkered down in a big villa. Rumor was that the previous owner had signed it away for small money. And at gunpoint. Emilio didn't know for sure and didn't mind keeping it that way.

He met Buds in the courtyard. Propped up in a chair like a king holding court.

"Emilio, right?" Buds ask patronizingly. "Came to pay what is due."

"I have it all here," Emilio managed to press out.

"I don't care," Buds said with a wave of his hands. For a moment Emilio feared the worst. "You can keep it if you want-" That sounded too good to be true.

Buds stood up and walked up to Emilio. Only to grab him by the shoulder as if Emilio was an old friend. "Walk with me," Buds said. It didn't sound like an order, but Emilio knew better than to refuse it.

"Tell me, lad. How did you come to owe me money again?"

Emilio swallowed hard and pressed out "The racetrack-"

"Ah, yes," Buds agreed cheerily. "You win some. You lose some. And then a gambler loses more and more, right? But you, my boy, are no gambler. Isn't that right? What do you again?"

"Student," Emilio volunteered. "I study mathematics."

"Ahh," Buds said aloud. "Let me guess. You saw the racetrack for what it was. A rigged game. And you guessed it was me." Emilio flinched, but Buds continued as if all was right in the world. "Did you know that the first few grands I made were on the racetrack? Ever since then it holds a special place in my heart. Whoever rigs the games will be sorry. Truly sorry."

Buds stopped and Emilio had no choice but to do so as well. For a moment there was a heavy silence until Buds turned to Emilio. His eyes were cold and full of menace. "I want the head of whoever taints my racetrack. And you, my lad, will help me."

The next moment Buds was cheery again. Slapping Emilio on his back. "I even pay you for your help. The money you owe me. I don't care. Take it. I've got something special for you. A class stone."

Emilio swallowed. Part of him wanted to run away. Consorting with someone like Buds Melone was bad news. But what if Buds said the truth? Emilio could help keep the racetrack clean. And a class change? To have one with twenty-two was practically unheard of in this decade. It could push him ways forward in life.

"I need documents," Emilio said through dry lips. "Records."

"And you will get them, my boy," Buds agreed. "You will get them."

Then he laughed. One that chilled Emilio to his bones.

Five hours later Emilio marked the last name on a page. He was done. On his behest, a goon notified Buds Melone, who pushed into the room Emilio worked at, like a king.

"My boy," Buds opened. "I take it you have good news for me?"

"I narrowed it down to four people whose winning rate exceeds everyone else's by a large margin," Emilio explained. "What's more is that they take turns at the racetrack. Never being there at the same time."

"Brilliant!" Buds exclaimed. "I knew I can count on you, my boy."

Buds waved a goon over who held up a small box. Within a class-stone. "You kept your end of the bargain and I will keep mine." With that, he put the class-stone into Emilio's hand and closed it for him. "But one more thing-"

Emilio knew it was too good to be true. Unwillingly his posture hardened.

"We don't want the stone to get lost, right my boy?" Buds asked. "Better activate it now. Got it?"

Emilio swallowed hard and nodded. Not what he had expected, but didn't dare to relax yet. He took a last deep breath and stared at the hand that held the class-stone. A little mana channeled into the stone was all it took and Emilio was flooded with light.

When it subsided Emilio stumbled into Bud's arms. His whole body felt wrong. Lighter overall, but heavier in a few places as well.

"What happened?" Emilio asked, but broke off as he heard his own voice. It was higher than usual. Sensual and feminine. Confused he brought his hand up to his throat, but it bumped halfway up into something equally strange. "I have breasts?"

"Of course," Buds said with a smirk. "All with the 'Bisque'-doll class are females."

"Doll?" Emilio managed to press out.

"Wind-up doll to be specific." Buds let his hand fall around Emilio and on his back. There Emilio felt something very strange. Something was sticking out of his back. Slowly turning around itself. Even stranger was that Emilio could feel Buds' hand on it. "You see I could use someone with your expertise in my organization. But not as is. You needed an- Update."

"No!" Emilio shouted. Twisting to turn away, but Buds Melone was still stronger and bigger than him. And whatever spun in his back was grabbed tightly by Buds.

"You leave me no choice," Buds said with a shake of his head. "But I planned for it. Bisque-dolls are women of social nature. All I have to do is keep you close and you will fall for me. And it works when you don't."

There was a pull on Emilio's back and then a click. Whatever spun there stopped and so did Emilio. Every movement left him. Leaving him paralyzed. Yet his limps kept the last position they were in. He truly had become a doll. One whose strings just have been cut.

"Bring my new doll to my chambers," Buds instructed his goons before leaving the room.

Soon Emilio found himself manhandled. His new body eerily quiet as they dragged him through the villa. But internally he was screaming in confusion and panic. They left him on a bed, but not for long.

Buds entered soon enough. Filling Emilio with a new horror. His heart knew what was about to happen even while his mind refused to acknowledge the same.

"It is time to bind you to me," Buds told the unmoving doll. "To make you mine. Soon or later you will be, Sugardoll. Body and soul."

Emilio wanted to scream. To shove that dirtbag away from him. But he could only lay there. Waiting that the inevitable would happen.

"Let's make you more comfortable." Buds turned Emilio over. Just long enough to grab the thing in his back again. This time there was a stronger pull. As Emilio was turned back around he saw a big silver key in Bud's hand. "You won't be needing this one for a while, my dear. Look how sweet you look. Just laying there. Waiting for me. Just sweet. You know what? You need a new name. How about Sugardoll? I hope you like it. As much as this-"

Emilio watched horrified how Buds' stripped his clothes. Then something else drew Emilio's attention. The feeling in his limps faded away. Slowly, darkness crept into his view. He knew he was about to lose consciousness. Emilio welcomed it with open arms. Anything to not witness what was about to happen.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emilio woke up on something hard. For a moment he was disorientated. Then it all came back to him. The Villa. Class-stone. The changing of his body. The bed. The looming figure of Buds Melone crawling on it. Emilio himself helpless and unable to escape.

Screaming, Emilio pushed himself up. What he saw around him didn't make any sense to him. Open crates, tools, strange artifacts, and a woman. One who held daggers in her hands. Emilio scampered away from her and cursed as he fell off the table.

He needed a moment to untangle his limps and stand up. Wearily shifting between hiding his own alien nakedness or to ball his fists towards the woman.

"Are you with Buds Melone?" Emilio demanded to know with a confidence he didn't really feel.

"You speak!" the woman exclaimed instead.

"Of course I can speak," Emilio snapped back.

"But you're a doll," the countered.

"I am not a- " he started, but then fell silent. Memories of the class change came back to him. "Well, I can speak," he lamely said instead. "I am human after all."

The woman seemingly caught on. "A class made you a doll?"

"Not just a doll," Emilio answered wearily. "Not an hour ago I was a normal guy of the 'not specified civilian’ class. Now I am this!"

The woman replied with silence. Yet she acted like she wanted to say something, but didn't know how. Eventually, it was enough for Emilio. "Out with it. What aren't you telling me?"

She flinched, but then pointed at a crate behind her. A rather big one. "It has been more than an hour. You spend over eighty years in there."

"No way!" Emilio murmured while staggering back. That couldn't be possible, right? He looked down at his arms. They still looked alien to him. All dainty, slender, and female. But they looked young too. After eighty years he should look like a mummy. "How is this possible?"

"How should I know?" the woman countered. "I am just a curator. I didn't think Buds Melone's famous Sugardoll would suddenly-"

"Don't call me that!" Emilio interrupted her. "That is not my name. Never was and never will be!"

"Then how should I call you?" the curator asked.

"Emilio," he volunteered. "Emilio Vannelli."

"Okay," the woman replied. Drawing out the single word as if it was something chewable. "I am Claire Beaumont. I am a curator in this museum."

"Museum?" Now Emilio looked around. Soon he found an old picture taken of Buds Melone. In it, he was speaking to a few guys Emilio didn't recognize. But beside him seemingly sat a young woman. Even on the grainy photo, her beauty was evident. She resonated with Emilio as if he knew her. He held the photo up so Claire could see it. "What is this?"

Claire shuffled around awkwardly. "You see no one knew that you were a person. Everyone thought you were only a doll. Just a plaything he was strangely obsessed with. He took you everywhere he did go to and-"

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long did he use me like that?" Emilio asked quietly.

"About five years."

Emilio sank to his knees. So much time was lost. Time he was abused without knowing it. The image of Buds Melone as he undressed himself flashed behind his eyes. And there was that. It made Emilio feel filthy. Violated. It was the last straw. Emilio broke. Collapsing into a crying heap of misery.

"Oh shit!" Claire exclaimed, but Emilio paid her no mind anymore. "I think I- The Police! I call them. They can help you. Maybe."

Emilio didn't even notice how Claire ran out of the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emilio woke up again on his belly. This time below was only softness. He could feel a blanket as well as silken garments.

Now it came all back to him. The curator, Claire, had called the police. They looked different to the one's Emilio had known. Eighty-seven years ago. The time that had been robbed from him. Deep into the night, they had asked him questions. Took statement after statement. His own questions largely unanswered.

Eventually, they released him. Told him to not leave the town. As if he was a perp and not the victim. Emilio hated it. Expecting more. Then he found himself alone outside. The police had forgotten that Emilio was penniless. Not so the curator. She had been waiting in the lobby and then caught up to Emilio.

She had offered Emilio her guest bedroom. Out of options, Emilio had agreed. The rest was a blur. Many things he saw only making barely sense. The world had changed without him noticing. Familiar, yet twisted into an alien form over time.

He remembered a shower. Standing under it and crying until the water turned cold. Being dressed in strange garments. Then the softness of a bed and the welcome oblivion of sleep.

Sighing, Emilio rolled onto his back. Or tried to. Something hard prevented him to fully turn around. Now he remembered. The key in his back. A stark reminder of what he had become. Moreso than the unfamiliar curves on his body or the strangeness of the weight of his new breasts. He could feel the key turning. But it soon strained against the bed below him and it turned a little painful.

With nothing else to do Emilio stood up. Surveying the room he had ignored the previous night. Just like the city, the furniture's function was evident and familiar.yet they just looked so different. He was used to massive wooden cabinets. However, these were made out of thinner wood, metal, and plastic. Whoever housed him must be rich, Emilio concluded.

His examination came to a stop as he noticed a particular smell. One so familiar it hurt. He followed it out of the room and found the kitchen. There, a mature lady was cooking. Scrambled eggs and bacon if Emilio's nose could be believed.

"Take a seat, my dear," she said as she noticed Emilio. "You must be starving. Dolls do eat, right?"

The loud growling of his stomach answered for him. Earning him a chuckle from the lady.

"I haven't eaten in-" Emilio broke off. For him, it had been a day. For the world, nearly nine decades had passed. "A very long time."

"Claire told me," the Lady said with a nod. Then she started to load the plate in front of Emilio with food. "I am Nadine. Claire's mother. And you my dear?"

By now Emilio had dug into the eggs and bacon with abandon. So he needed a moment to free his mouth for speech. "Emilio Vannelli." Then he added a shy "thank you for the meal".

Nadine took a seat opposite of Emilio and started on her own plate. But not for long. "Vannelli. That's an Ifarian name, right?"

Emilio nodded. "My family immigrated here when part of Verrencia sank into the sea. My grandpa lost his shop this way and decided to move due north."

"Such a small world," Nadine remarked. "My daughter worked on an exhibit about the sinking city before- The one that brought us yourself."

"Did the city ever stopped sinking?" Emilio asked as he finished his plate.

"Sadly, no," Nadine said with a sigh. "I always wanted to visit the city, but by now almost all of it was claimed by the water. Do you need more food, my dear?"

Emilio nodded. His stomach still feeling like a bottomless pit.

"Claire will be back soon," Nadine told him as she stood up to fill his plate. "She had to do some paperwork at the museum. Expediting the release of the second doll-"

"I wasn't the only one?"

"Sadly, no," Nadine confirmed. "According to Claire, the police found two of you. However, this detail is rather unknown. The public only knows about you."

Stunned, Emilio leaned back. Only to being stopped by the key in his back hitting the backside of the chair. This was getting annoying real fast. "We have to get her out of there!"

"We will Emilia, we will."

Emilio opened his mouth to correct her about his name, but then saw her look. It seemingly said: don't kid yourself. You are a woman for now. Deal with it.

With a sigh, Emilio let it drop.

"When my daughter comes back you two can head to the library," Nadine decided.

"Library?"

"Well, you changed classes, right? You might be stuck in it for a while. So understanding it should be a goal of yours."

"Right," Emilio agreed as he finished the second plate. "I should get myself dressed." The police had given him some standard respawnee clothes. Courtesy of the respawn center next door. They mostly fit him, but they had to cut a hole into the backside of the shirt. To make space for his key.

"Oh don't go for those unsightly rags," Nadine said while holding him back. "Follow me, Emilia. I can do better than that."

With a lack of options, Emilio decided to do just that. Nadine was leading him down a staircase and through rooms full of textiles. Neatly stacked in open shelves and rags. Then they stepped into a shop filled with different articles of clothing.

He could spot a few outfits from his time period. Other styles looked as foreign as what everyone was currently wearing outside. Then again he saw dresses and clothing predating his era of birth by a century or two.

"You are a seamstress?" Emilio asked aloud.

"Yes," Nadine confirmed. "But not of the common kind. I tailor period pieces. For movies, theatre, and such. Even for the museum if needed. I fear that was what had Claire obsessed with being a curator. I often dragged her along on my deliveries to the museum."

Emilio took a few steps around. The sheer variety of outfits made his head spin. Here he was supposed to find something that should fit him? Never had he spend much though on clothes. Always finding it bothersome. Now he was even in a body not his natural own.

"Let's try this one," Nadine said and Emilio turned around to see her holding something long and near black.

"You want me to wear a dress?" he asked confused.

"This is not just a dress," Nadine corrected him. "This lovely piece is a replica of the anthracite evening gown the actress Charlene Sawer wore on the day she earned her first best actress award. It is very form fitting, how much we will find out when you wear it, and formal. The good thing, my dear, is that it is backless. So we don't need to cut a hole for your key. To a degree, it will adjust to your bust. Neither of us, me or Claire, have much up top. I doubt our brassieres would fit you. So something meant to be worn without one is ideal my dear."

Finally, Nadine stopped talking and Emilio used it to point something out as eloquently as he could. "B-But it's a dress."

"Oh, get over it," she waved him off. "And get into this changing room. We don't have all day. I made this dress to measure and I am sure I have to adjust it slightly."

Reluctantly he complied. "I am stealing someone's dress?"

"Nonsense," Nadine chided him. "All my clothes are off the rack. Most keep them, but some return them so I can display them. This one had been made for a girl doing LARP. When she got pregnant she couldn't bear this dress gathering dust in her closet. So she too returned hers."

Nadine had pooled the dress at Emilio's feet and waited for him to shrug off the borrowed pajamas he was wearing. As he stepped into the dress he couldn't help but wonder aloud. "What is LARP?"

There was a deep sigh. "Don't worry about it, my dear."

Emilio shivered slightly as Nadine pulled up the dress. The fabric practically gliding over his soft skin. Even if he had the impulse to deny it, the feeling was magical. Even as the shoulder straps settled it felt a little too loose on him. "I feel like it might fall off me any moment."

"Give me a twirl," Nadine ordered him and he hesitantly complied. Even after a few spins, the dress clung to him. "See? All good. I have an eye for it. That's what over twenty years in the business gives you."

Emilio gave her a shy nod, but he couldn't give up. "Isn't it a little too bare? I understand why the back has to be free for me. But the decollete is so low. Half my b- Things are bare."

"Breasts, my dear," Nadine chided him. "They are called breasts. And they are perfectly normal. Well, yours are a little on the big side. For the dress- The only thing I need to adjust is around the waist. Yours is tiny. Even with the double helping of breakfast."

Emilio blushed, but Nadine didn't care. Already stripping the dress off him. She left him naked in the changing booth. As he peeked out he saw her putting the dress on a workstation. Probably to adjust the waistline for him. Then he noticed the big window-front of the shop. The whole interior could be seen from the outside. So could be his nude form. He stepped back into the booth at once. Making sure the curtain was shut tightly on both sides.

Then he had to wait. Caught in the small space he couldn't avoid the one feature of the booth. A tall mirror. In it, he saw a reflection that made him gasp. He was indeed beautiful. The body in the realm usually reserved for those with a Succubus class. But those were focused to maximize the allure of the body, his own was different. It was hard to describe. The contours of his body were more dainty and elegant. Not meant for sex appeal, but sensual sophistication.

One of the many features that bothered him was his hair. He had his mothers hair color up to the day he changed classes. A deep brown. But now it was lighter. Not quite blond. The hue reminded him of honey. Of course, his focus was soon drawn to his eyes. They stood out by far. Gone were the muddy brown eyes of old. His new eyes shone in a blue so deep that he could have sworn a master jeweler had fitted pure sapphires there.

His small soft mouth contrasted deeply against his skin. It was not that his lips were too red. More like a dark pink. It was his skin that was so pale. At least compared to before. Below his new features were equally fine chiseled as his face. His collarbone so dainty it hardly stood out. Then his hands found their way to his chest. His breasts big, but not obscenely so. When he cupped them with his hands he slightly covered more than half of them. But even without the support, they stood proudly and perfectly perky on his chest.

"Are you done groping yourself?" Nadine asked as she drew back the curtain. She held a piece of fabric under his nose. "This pantie should fit you somewhat." Emilio hastened to pull it up his legs. By the time he was done Nadine held the refitted dress ready for him. As it slid up his skin he noticed it was tighter. Especially around his hips. This time the fabric clung more snuggly around his waist.

"Perfect!"

The exclamation was neither by Nadine or from Emilio. Claire had returned without both of them noticing.

"I am so sorry," Claire remarked as she stepped up to Emilio. "My mother likes to steamroll people into being dressed up by her. Believe me, I know. As her primary victim. But look at you. I am glad she did. You simply look amazing."

"She wants me to go out like this," Emilio whined.

It drew out a snicker from Nadine. "If anyone can pull that off then it's you girl." She looked at her daughter. "All she needs now are shoes and you are good to go."

"Her feet are a little smaller than mine," Claire remarked as she looked down. Then she snapped her fingers. "The kitten heels from my prom. I was still a little growing back then. They might fit. Be right back."

"Why do I even have to go outside? And to a library no less?"

"Because it is important Emilia," Nadine chided her. "You switched into a class you know nothing about. Or do you?"

"I know that I hate the key in my back," Emilio admitted. "Pulling it half out paralyzes me. And I guess removing it completely puts me into a sort of hibernation sleep."

"Okay. You know a few things," Nadine relented. "But so far all of these sound like drawbacks. Class makers introduce them to make other traits more powerful. Aren't you curious what those are."

"Not really. I wish I could change classes and be done with it." Then Emilio gave a deep sigh. "But I have no money to my name. I guess I am stuck like this for a while. Don't even know how to earn money now. For how much do good class stones go these days."

Nadine shrugged. "Give or take two hundred thousand?"

"Two hundred thou-" Emilio staggered back. "That price is crazy."

"It's not that bad," Nadine assured him. "You forget the inflation of money in the last decades. It is a lot, but not as much as you fear."

"Found them!" Claire yelled as she came downstairs. She placed them in front of Emilio. Hesitantly he slipped into them and was relieved that they only had a modest heel. However, they were made of some black shiny material that drew the eyes. He took a few steps and found that he could walk in them.

"See? Everything is fine," Nadine remarked. "Now off you go." The mature lady practically herded her daughter and Emilio out of her shop.

All too soon Emilio found himself outside and it frightened him. It started with the cars. They looked so much curvier and like a single blob than the cars he was used too. Some might say elegant and sleek, but Emilio couldn't agree. They looked menacing. Especially around the radiator and headlights. It reminded him of an angry face.

"Don't worry," Claire said while making him slowly walk along the sidewalk. "I am with you."

Emilio could already feel all the eyes on him from other pedestrians. At first, he tried to tell himself that it was just his imagination. But quickly deducting that he was kidding himself. As a beautiful woman walking along in a very risque evening dress in broad daylight he was, of course, drawing attention. What irritated him more was that he could somehow tell exactly how many people looked at him.

"So what is your class called?" Claire asked him. "I never heard of a class that changes one into a doll."

It reminded Emilio that he hadn't looked at his stats window yet. It was a fundamental part of the magic and the world around them. Every sentient being could call upon a sort of window that only they could see. There they saw a summarization of themselves in neat stats. Emilio always like this aspect of the world. It was one of the reasons he had pursued mathematics and more specifically statistics at the university.

He called forth his stats window and nearly fell. Momentarily his concentration had slipped and even the small modest heel of his shoes proved too much to handle. Thankfully Claire caught his arm and steadied him. Looking around he spotted a bench nearby and walked towards it. Not risking more multi-tasking.

"My class is called 'Bisque'," Emilio read aloud. Then he fell silent as he took in his stats. Those were oddly high for someone of his new build. Normally a body reflected ones own stats and vice versa. But his new physical stats were higher than before his class change. That struck him as rather curious.

Meanwhile, Claire was musing out loud. "Bisque? That's the name of a type of porcelain. I am not sure, but it could be that it is used for making dolls. Maybe that was the inspiration for the class."

Emilio gave a distracted nod and focused on the next part of his stats window. "'Key powered', 'attention sense', and 'universal weapon aptitude' are my class traits," He volunteered. "'Key powered' is self-explanatory. Thanks to that I have that bothersome thing sticking out of my back. I have no idea what 'attention sense' means. And why would a doll need a trait related to weapons aptitude?"

"I don't know," Claire said with a shrug. "That's why we are going to the class library."

Emilio nodded and made his stats window disappear. It was time to find out what he was in for. As he was utterly broke Emilio reasoned he might be stuck in this class for a while. "Then let's go."

* * * * * * * * * *

They had been searching in the library for two hours when the librarian found them. "Are you looking for a specific class?" she asked.

Claire eyed Emilio who shrugged. "Ever heard of the 'Bisque' class?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," the librarian admitted. "That means you won't find a book about this class here. But there still might be information out there. Let me look on my computer."

Emilio couldn't help himself and had to ask. "What's a computer?"

Claire and the librarian looked at him like he had grown a second head. Then Claire chuckled. "Sleeping beauty here is new to this century. She missed a few things."

The librarian opened her mouth to ask something but then thought better of it. She waved for them to follow and walked to her desk.

"What was the class name?" she asked after taking a seat. "Was it 'Brisk'?"

"Bisque," Claire corrected her. "Like the porcelain." Seeing the librarians confusion she spelled it out loud.

Emilio meanwhile was fascinated by the gadget the librarian was handling. It was some kind of information device. It reminded him of his own stats window. "What is that?"

"That's a computer," Claire explained. "I'll give you a crash course once we get home."

"Found it," the librarian piped up. Then she frowned. "There is not much information here. The database says the class is extinct." She eyed Emilio. "Obviously that information is now wrong. Looks like the class was never popular. It wasn't very widespread and vanished around two hundred years ago. The class maker was Duchess of 'Bannow Hill'."

Claire gasped and Emilio moaned in annoyance. "The wife of the Duke of perverts," Emilio exclaimed. "That explains a lot."

Everyone knew of the Duke of Bannow Hill and his wife. They were the stuff of rumors and legends. And not in a good way. They both were into a lot of sexcapades. Made worse by the wife who was a class maker. All her classes were known to be related to sex in one way or another. No scholar ever researched any of these classes in detail. Opting instead to immediately placing them on the undesirable classes index. The Duke and Duchess attracted some followers, fellow perverts, until one day their neighbors had enough. They raised an army and slaughtered the Duke and his whole court.

"Sorry," the librarian said honestly. "I wish I could help more, but that is all the information that I have. If you find out more about this class please return here and share your information."

With a foul mood, Emilio and Claire left the library. This was not what they hoped to find out here.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Emilia?"

Emilio still cringed when he heard the shout with his feminized name. He was slowly getting used to it, as he was getting used to his body, but still, he felt as he was a man. Just in the wrong body. But Nadine had been relentless. Always calling him Emilia or using the female article for him. It chipped away at his resolve to seeing himself as a man. However, as he was essentially a freeloader he couldn't just tell her off.

With a sigh, he put the computer in standby mode. It was a marvelous invention that he had spend nearly the whole last week in front of. There was still a lot he didn't know of, but he was determined to catch up. Of course, there were those few breaks in between when Nadine 'needed' his help. He reasoned her shout now was another excuse to either get him away from the computer or to make him do something feminine.

With a sigh, he stood up and brushed off the folds in his skirt. Nadine used the very fact that he was broke to dictate what he was wearing. So far pants hadn't been part of his wardrobe.

He found her downstairs in her shop. It was still early and the shop wasn't open yet. She was busy with a mass of fabric. He thought those were skirts but wasn't sure.

"There you are," Nadine exclaimed as she saw Emilio. "I need your help."

Of course, she did. Emilio stifled a sigh. Yesterday he had helped her find a 'very special bale of fabric'. Which was buried so deep, that he had to tidy up the half stockroom to find it.

"I just finished this historic dress, but I need to see it on a living person," Nadine opened up. "Normally I get Claire to be my model, but she is already at work. Could you help me out?"

Emilio eyed wearily the pile of fabric. Something told him that this wouldn't be done in just five minutes. But there was the fact that he was a freeloader. That alone made him give into a lot of her requests.

"Sure-" he agreed. Stretching that one word out like it was bubblegum.

If Nadine noticed his hesitance she didn't let him know. "Great. Strip. We have a lot ahead of us."

Now Emilio sighed for real and headed to the changing booth. He stipped down to his underwear, another thing he hadn't gotten used to yet, and made a neat pile of his daily wear. The long loose pink skirt he had been wearing and the white ruffled top. Both way too feminine for his taste, but beggars can't be choosers.

"All of it," Nadine corrected him as she popped in for a moment. Just to leave a white dress inside.

He doubted that this simple garment was all of it. The dress was simple, tight fitting, and white. Reaching barely down to his knees. It looked more like something to sleep in then to go out.

"Great," Nadine exclaimed as she dragged him out. "And with your narrow waist, you don't even need a corset underneath. Just perfect. Now for the crinoline-"

He wondered what she meant with crinoline only to make bug eyes as Nadine pulled out some monstrosity. It was a type of cage made of fabric and wood. She made him step into it and he wondered what exactly he had agreed to. As she pulled the 'crinoline' up it took shape below him. A glance in a nearby mirror showed him that everything under his waist was trapped in a bell-shaped form.

"That looks highly impractical," Emilio remarked out loud.

"By modern standards, it is," Nadine agreed. "Well, by old standards too. This was what noble women a few centuries ago had to wear. At least for high society functions. Their normal daily wear crinoline was a little smaller. Now hold still while I affix the petticoats."

To his dismay Nadine's use of Plural was correct. Three layers of ruffled petticoats soon weighted down the crinoline. Next came the dress and it was a monstrosity. At least to Emilio. It was made from some stiff layered fabric. In fact, the top was so rigid that Emilio thought the statement by Nadine that he wouldn't wear a corset was a lie. The top was not only tight fitting around his chest. The sleeves of the dress clung to his arms from shoulders to elbow where they ended in a lot of flared lace. The same lace was generously framing the deep plunging neckline and framing his breasts. Those were pushed up and out for all to see. Below, the dress flared out and covered most of the petticoats. Safe for a part up front.

With the dress complete Emilio felt like a bull in a porcelain shop. Every step he made caused the crinoline to sway with him. Threatening to brush against everything around him.

Nadine meanwhile was fretting around with details. Inspecting how the layers of fabric interacted with each other. She made notes of small details that needed to be corrected. And to his embarrassment, Nadine made a lot of pictures. He still was amazed at how small modern cameras had become. Less so that nearly all the pictures taken in the household were now of him.

Her administrations were interrupted by the ringing of the phone upstairs. With a "be right back" she left him standing alone in the shop. Suddenly Emilio felt how exposed he was. Everyone could see him from the outside. Especially since Nadine removed the center mannequin from the display the day before. With the big crinoline, Emilio couldn't even seek refuge in the backroom or in the small changing cabinet. And he knew when someone looked at him. Even in passing or when his back was turned.

Suddenly he cracked up. Laughing out loud. In a way it was ridiculous. Him being afraid of a few people looking his way. It is not like they could get into the shop and harass him. His eyes fell on the dais in front of the large shop window. The back of his mind whispered a dare to him. To be proud and to step up onto the center stage. Showing the world he wasn't afraid.

As he set foot on the first step of the small stairs to the dais doubt crept into his mind. Was this really a good idea? As he stepped onto the central spot his heart was beating a mile a minute. He had done it, but now he was open to anyone to see. Then a fear crept into his mind. He had taken the place of the mannequin that had stood here. In all but one way. He could still move. But if someone pulled his key out a little he would be as unmoving as the mannequin he had replaced.

There was a sudden clicking sound. All movement left Emilio. His heart speeded up for a moment before it too stopped completely. His fear had become real. He was stuck and couldn't free himself. Now just another mannequin in the shops display.

It took a while for his panic to die down. When his logical thinking returned the answer why he was stuck came to him. Dolls of the Bisque class must have the ability to unhinge their key with their own thoughts. Why they needed the ability eluded Emilio. But he was now sure that the thinking of the possibility that it could happen must have triggered the reflex for real.

The fact that he wasn't alone also calmed Emilio down. Any moment now Nadine would come downstairs again. She would pop in his key and he was free again. All he had to do was wait.

And that he did. Meanwhile, pedestrians noticed him. A few even stopped and stared. Emilio couldn't see them all clearly, but still, he felt their stares. Knew exactly where they looked. Not just on him, but the whole display. Maybe that was what the class trait 'attention sense' was for. To feel what caught the attention of those close to him.

Unsurprisingly most men's gaze was drawn to his breasts. No wonder with them 'proudly' displayed and propped up by the dress. Not that Emilio could help it.

Women were different. Their gaze drifted more. Taking in details. Despite that Emilio was amused how often they too stared at his breasts. All too soon his analytical mind took over. Noting patterns in their attention focuses. What drew the eye in the display and what didn't. Statistics, that was his world. For a moment it made him forget in what situation he was stuck in.

"Emilia?" Nadine's shout made him snap out of his trance. Reminding him that he was trapped. "There you are? Enjoying the spotlight?"

Emilio wanted to stomp in frustration as Nadine failed to notice his lack of motion.

"Come on down," she said with a sigh. "I still got a lot of work to do."

After a minute of increasingly frustrated comments, he finally felt Nadine's attention fall on his key.

"Your key stopped spinning. Is that your neutral state that Claire and you mentioned?" Nadine asked. Of course, Emilio couldn't answer.

Now was the time Nadine had to recognize his plight and pop his key back in. Any moment now.

"Ah I see what happened," Nadine piped up. "You like the attention you garner there. I knew you were. Just shy about it. So you somehow unhinged your own key. Tell you what. I grant your wish. You can spend the day in the display, but I need to get you up to my standard."

Emilio wanted to howl in frustration. Of all the conclusions Nadine could draw why had it to be this? Every reasonable person would pop his key back in and ask him if that is what he really wanted or if it had been a mistake. But by now he should have known that Nadine wasn't exactly normal.

To his dismay, he found himself poseable. All Nadine was to do was to use a little pressure on a joint and it became moveable for a moment. Just not by Emilio himself. That's how he came to hold up a folding fan. It was just one of a few props Nadine had in mind for him. His hair was styled and decorated. Jewelry found its way onto him. Most embarrassing of all a necklace that plunged deep and rested between his breasts. Drawing, even more, stares at them. At last, she applied makeup. Painting his lips, applying blush, and gluing long fake whimpers to his natural ones.

The whole time he wanted to curse her out. To remedy her error in judgment. But he was silent as just a doll can be.

Once again he was left alone in the shop's display. Only his own thoughts and the stares of the pedestrians broke the monotony. With time his fury settled and once again his analytical took over. Noticing details of those that looked at the display. He wondered if they were aware of their own gazes. To others, it might be a quick glance. For Emilio, it was a telltale story of focus points. Not even an hour in he could tell that he was by far the main draw of the display. That was hardly surprising. Yet other details sprung forth. The mannequin to his left did poorly. He couldn't see what that one was wearing, but it was a turn off for the pedestrians. The mannequin on the right did better, but stood at an angle most didn't like. Those that wanted to see more had to step closer and look from the side. Maybe the mannequin had a detail on the backside that was partially hidden.

The ringing of the entry bell of the shop broke his concentration. Nadine was opening her shop. So it must be already close to ten in the morning. That meant he had lost two hours in his trance and barely noticed the time flying by.

Then Nadine got out of her shop. Just to take a few quick pictures of Emilio decorating her display. It reignited Emilio's fury. Then again nothing had changed. He was still unmoving and unable to complain.

Now something else broke his monotony. Some onlookers were intrigued enough to come into the shop. It made him feel oddly proud of himself. As if he personally lured them in. From what he could overhear he wasn't that far off.

Emilio struggled with his own nature. He knew himself well. Others take breaks and relaxed. He was a doer. Always busy with something. That's why he had been glued before the computer. Learning nonstop. But now he couldn't do anything. He was alone with his thoughts only. Unable to do anything but hear and feel. However, that turned out as a surprise as well.

He had known about the rumor that taking one sense would heighten others in time. Never would he have thought it possible that the absence of the ability to act would do the same. He had to do something. His nature dictated it. The only thing he could do was to channel it into his new heightened senses. Gathering details about the display he was standing in, the street in front of him, and the shop behind him. With Nadine going about her daily life.

It was a shock and a rush at the same time when an epiphany hit him. He was a man - just not now - of mathematics and statistics. It had always been difficult to gather reliable data. Yet now his senses floated him with a wealth of information. More and more details blossomed around him. Like a maelstrom with him in the center.

"Oh, Emilia." Nadine's voice broke his inner reflection. "Sorry I forgot about you. I know I promised you the whole day, but you've got to get hungry, right?"

He felt Nadine's hand on his waist and then the other on his key. There were a push and a click. Then he could finally move again. He nearly dropped the folding fan he was holding. To go from object to person so suddenly was rather strange.

"Come now," Nadine urged him. "We need you to get out of the dress. Otherwise, you won't be able to come upstairs to eat."

A little baffled Emilio turned around. In the corner of the shop was an old weathered grandfather clock. Mostly hidden by costumes, the display was still visible. Telling him it was already two in the afternoon. Nadine's usual hour-long lunch break.

"I don't feel hungry," Emilio admitted aloud. Slightly baffled by the fact.

Nadine raised an eyebrow. "So you wanna stay in the display? Be my guest. You worked wonders. Twelve walk-ins and three of those left orders. A record in itself. And in the morning no less."

That reminded Emilio of something that was long overdue. "I didn't mean to do it!"

"Do what?"

"Unhinge my key," Emilio admitted.

"Then why did you get inside the display?"

"It was a dare. Sort of," Emilio defended himself. "One that backfired. I panicked and then my key-"

"Sorry honey. I hadn't known. Let's get you out of the dress."

Whatever fury was still racing through his veins left him. Nadine had this disarming charm about her. He wanted to be angry at her, but instead, he stepped down without saying a word. It took another ten minutes to peel him out of the dress, petticoats, and the crinoline.

To say the lunch break was awkward didn't do it justice. Emilio was at a loss for words to describe the experience of the last few hours. He only poked at his food. True to his statement he wasn't really hungry. Even though his breakfast was over eight hours ago. Maybe his class trait "key powered" messed with his body when unmoving. A sort of light hibernation he reasoned. Just one he was aware of this time.

After lunch, he returned to the shop with Nadine. Something had bothered him and he had to fix it. With determined steps, he walked to the display dais.

"You need to dress up before I let you go for another round," Nadine taunted him.

Emilio turned around with a blush blossoming on his cheeks. "T-that's not it," he stammered. "It is just- This is driving me crazy." Before Nadine could reply, Emilio stepped up to the mannequin that had stood to his right. He dragged it two feet towards the center and turned it slightly. Exposing more of the lace that had drawn the gazes of pedestrians.

"What are you-" Nadine started, but Emilio cut her off.

"This dress was the main draw besides - Well. Me," Emilio explained. "People strained to see the detailing in the back. And this one-" Emilio turned to the other mannequin. He pointed at the frumpy brown dress. "This one isn't doing you any favors. People lose interest as soon as they see that one."

"I guess I find another one," Nadine relented.

Emilio was about to go back upstairs when Nadine found her footing again. Taunting him from behind. "You know there is only one way for you to know if your suggestions work."

The implication was clear. She wanted him to go back on display. And for a moment he was tempted. All those details, the clarity of his mind, and the resulting calmness. It was intoxicating. Alluring. The very thought of going back made him blush harder. Yet he shook his head. This new side of his frightened him. Emilio didn't dare to face it again so soon.

As he walked to the backroom and upstairs, he felt not only Nadine's gaze on his back. He could have sworn he could feel the grin on her face. Not quite malicious. More like a fox who knew, in the end, it would outsmart its prey.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emilio was glad to get out of the house. Ever since the incident with the shop's display he had to avoid Nadine. She didn't offer him to go back. At least not with words. But he could feel her gaze. As if she knew it was only a matter of time before Emilio would give in.

When Claire suggested they meet for her lunch break a few days later Emilio jumped at the chance. Not only to avoid Nadine. The friendship with Claire had been strained lately. It wasn't her exactly that put Emilio off. Her work pushed a wedge between them. Emilio had a hard time reconciling the fact that Claire was going ahead with the exhibit. Buds Melone had taken everything from him and now - for his infamy - he was rewarded. At least that's how it felt to Emilio.

He was waiting at a nearby cafe for Claire when a young voice started him. "Doesn't that hurt?"

Emilio turned to see a young girl pointing at the key in his back.

"Don't worry, it doesn't," he assured her.

"Can I touch it?"

The question made him flinch and scoot a little in his seat. "Better not."

The mother of the girl finally showed up and herded her away. Apologizing as she went.

"You don't like children?" Claire asked as she slipped into the chair opposite Emilio's.

"No," Emilio admitted. "I just never know how to handle them."

"Me neither. Then again the opposite can be as daunting. How are you handling mother?"

"Still trying to get me to be her mannequin," Emilio volunteered. "I wish she would ask me with words. Her silent, but knowing looks unnerve me."

"Believe me I know," Claire said with a roll of her eyes. "I grew up with that. Then again I can understand where she is coming from. It was a very good business day when you played mannequin."

"I guess," Emilio admitted. Thankfully a server arrived and took their order. He used this to change topics. "So, how is your work going?"

"Slower than I thought," Claire admitted. "It is hard to judge what would be interesting to visitors. We had test audiences and let's just say that my judgment on the topic was a little biased. For me as a curator everything is interesting."

Then Claire snapped her fingers. "Oh, right. Before I forget. I finally made some strides in getting the second doll to us."

That got Emilio's attention. "Why is that so difficult anyway?"

"Well," Claire started and then took a moment to gather her thoughts. "You were in a normal evidence warehouse of the police. That was already a bureaucratic hassle. But the other doll. Apparently, some of the evidence was shipped to a government site. Some old mine or so that had been repurposed. It is the state's top facility to store dangerous items. Like known unstable class stones and weapons they can't simply destroy. Why some of Buds Melone's case files and evidence was transferred there is still beyond me. Anyway. They located the second doll and her key." Now Claire rolled her eyes. "But since the site is oh so secret they are shipping her here instead of waking her there. She should arrive in a few days."

"I want to be there," Emilio threw in. "I know how it feels to be - Out of your own time, you know? Maybe I can help."

"I hoped you would," Claire admitted. "Speaking of- How are you coming along with adjusting to the present? Whenever I come home you are still in front of the computer."

"Slowly, but steady," Emilio replied. "I found a school where I could catch up on my academics. Turns out my previous education isn't worth a lot anymore. But I am still lost about what to do for money. I don't want to be a freeloader forever."

"It's a shame you don't want to be a mannequin," Claire mused aloud. "I bet there is money in it-"

"I doubt someone would pay me for that," Emilio dismissed her idea. "And even if they did it wouldn't be for much."

"I think you underestimate your worth," Claire corrected him. "Sure, Mother sold a lot the day you were on display, but that could be a fluke. What wasn't were your suggestions. She told me your suggestions resulted in more walk-ins. Maybe your future lies in marketing."

Emilio nodded thoughtfully. Still, he didn't think that was it. Part of him was still scared of being without motion. It was a feeling of helplessness he couldn't shake.

Thankfully their lunch arrived and Emilio used it to drop the topic.

* * * * * * * * * *

Lately, Emilio joined Nadine down in the shop. Sitting in the corner and reading a book. Being alone all the time upstairs slowly got to him. Of course, that was a two-sided blade. Here he had to deal with Nadine.

Her giggling broke his attention and he looked accusingly at her.

"Don't you dare give me the stinky eye," Nadine jabbed. "If you could see yourself then you would grin too. Oh, wait. You can."

Emilio flinched as Nadine held up her digital camera. She slandered over and sat down on a box next to Emilio. Pushing the camera into his hands. Frowning he looked at the pictures she had taken. It was him staring off into the distance. If he wouldn't have known then he would have thought it was a girl looking longingly at her crush from afar. Of course, Nadine didn't have to point out where he looked. The dais of the window display. Instead, she thumbed through the pictures she had taken. Always of him and always looking forlorn and lost. Staring at the display. Dozens today and even more the day before.

"You know, Emilia, that you can't fight it forever," Nadine said in a rather somber tone. "If you like it or not, the doll is part of you. Soon or later you have to face it. There is one question you should ask yourself. What are you really afraid of?"

Nadine jumped up before he could answer. Riffling through her own collection of dresses. While she was distracted Emilio tried to answer her question to himself. But he just couldn't put his fears into something more concrete than "I am afraid that I'll be stuck like that."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Nadine hollered from the other end of the shop. She pulled out something blue and sparkly. Then she made her way back. "The first time I admit it I was a little dense. But do you really think I wouldn't pop your key back in? And even if I was unable to, Claire would. So, again. What are you afraid of?"

As Emilio found himself speechless he saw Nadine spread out the garment in her hand. Emilio was no expert, but he thought it was another evening dress. It was dark blue, but it was sequined in many different shades of a lighter blue and dark silver. It gave that dress the feel of fish scales but artfully arranged. Fitting to the motive was the long mermaid tail skirt.

"Just for an hour or two," Emilio agreed.

Nadine quirked an eyebrow. "I close in about four hours."

"Fine," Emilio grumpily agreed. "But you pop my key back in as soon as you close shop."

"I promise," Nadine vowed. "Now go take off your clothes."

With a sigh, Emilio slinked towards the changing booth. "You have definitely too much fun dressing me up."

"Silly you," Nadine waved him off. "There is no such thing as too much fun when it comes to dressing someone up."

Emilio turned around just to roll his eyes at her. Then he drew the curtain shut. On Nadine's behest, he stripped down to his panties. Then she handed him the dress. Try as he might to ignore it, stepping into it felt special. The dress was obviously made with much care for detail and must have taken hours, if not days, to complete. As he pulled it up to his shoulders Nadine helped him to zip the backside up. At least as far as this key allowed. Nadine assured him the zipper would stay put even if it wasn't all the way to the top. Especially as he wouldn't move much. Or at all.

As always looking in the mirror was a strange sight. Even with him now living close to two weeks as a woman. But the view now made him gasp. He so much looked like a model or some big actress on the red carpet. There was just this one little detail that bothered him. His waist was too small. It looked unnatural to him and was a reminder of how unnatural his whole new body behaved.

Before he could dwell on it Nadine pushed something around his hips and pulled it up to his waist. It was a metallic midnight blue sash that she used as a belt. "There. Now I don't need to adjust the waistline. A little trick. Just between us girls."

Emilio rolled his eyes again and Nadine promptly jumped on it. "You know the only time I am tempted to pull your key is when you roll your eyes. Maybe stuck mid-roll would make you aware how ridiculous it looks on you."

"You wouldn't dare!" Emilio gasped.

"Don't test me, missy," Nadine shot back. "Now out with you. The display awaits your presence."

Emilio barely suppressed another roll but sighed loud instead. With small steps, he walked over. Fearful that a longer stride might lead to an accident that would lead to him falling on his face. As he took the last step on the dais doubt overcame him again. But before he could dwell on them Nadine arrived. Deftly she grabbed his hips and used it to lead him to the center spot. Then directing him how to pose.

Eventually, she stopped and stared at him patiently. Emilio couldn't bear the silence for long. "Aren't you unhinging my key? That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Nadine gave a long overacted sigh. "My dear, I can only give you the stage where to confront your fears. But stepping up to do it you have to do yourself."

In other words, he had to unhinge the key himself. And willingly too. Why couldn't she just say that? Then again if he called her out on it he would hear from her something along the lines of "But that makes me special". He reasoned imaginary Nadine was right. Without her eccentricities, she wouldn't be the Nadine he knew.

Mentally Emilio steeled himself. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. As soon as he was ready he reasoned all he had to do was to think about his key unhinging and-

There was a click and Emilio froze on the spot. Which was in a way good. Nadine wouldn't witness him cursing like a sailor. On the other hand, his fears appeared to be reasonable. His unhinging reflex really was on a hair trigger.

"I am proud of you," Nadine commented and drew Emilio's concentration away from his anger. "Let me apply the finishing touches and then the stage is all yours."

Her "finishing touches" turned out to be makeup and styling his hair. Of course, she would wait for him to be defenseless. Emilio wasn't a fan of either. Thankfully the makeup part was short. She only applied lipstick and some blush. But to his horror, she did go all out on his hair. He couldn't see it, but from what he felt, she was creating some kind of updo. Piling his hair and pinning it in place.

When she was done Nadine ran outside and took a few pictures of him. Then she reopened her shop for the afternoon. Which meant that Emilio's display time officially started.

All too soon Emilio wanted to move again. It was in his nature to do something. To stay busy. Yet there was nothing he could do. His horror deepened when this trance he experienced before didn't kick in. Maybe it was too early in the afternoon and not enough pedestrians moved by to trigger it.

His first real audience was a flock of high school girls. Probably on their way home. Not only did they look at him. They stopped and stared. Pointing out details to each other.

Conflicting emotions swirled within Emilio. He didn't like being center stage to their interest. But it also felt exhilarating. His "attention sense" trait made him feel their roaming gazes. It was like sensual long brushes with a feather along his body. Slowly, it calmed him down.

Now his mind started to work again. He wondered what those girls saw in him. Just a mannequin? A pretty one. He wished he could hear them or read their lips. But all he had was their gazes and gestures. Emilio wondered why they spend so much time in front of him. Maybe they imagined how it would feel to wear such a dress. He could feel it clinging to his curves. Highlighting every feature that made his body so female. That thought bore fruit in another one. Maybe they didn't want the dress, but his body? He knew that his body was perfect in so many womanly ideals. Did they feel jealousy? Would any of these girls wish for a body like his own? Was he the personification of their ideal female image?

But that couldn't be, right? He was no woman's idol as he still was a man. But only on the inside where no one does see it. How would anyone recognize this fact? Maybe through his behavior? Yet he couldn't lie to himself. Probably not. Nadine had commented on it. How he naturally walked like a girl. Behaved like one. Was that part of the class or was it him? So what defined him as a man, beside him clinging to the thought of it? Emilio's mind drew blanks. It wasn't defined by his body or his gestures. So what was it?

A new thought blossomed in his mind. What about his preferences? He preferred a male body and the male social expectations, right? But thinking about it made his belief crumble. How was he to define his male preferences? That he was attracted to women? In today's age that was less and less an issue. All throughout time, there were examples of people preferring a sexual partner of their own gender. It was even enforced by the rules of the universe. So that can't be it. What else? Maybe it was defined by the clothes he was wearing? He liked to dress as a man. Or so he thought. Emilio had to admit, in the loneliness of his own mind, that the thought was bullshit. A lie to himself. If he truly preferred male clothes shouldn't he have put up more a fight as Nadine dressed him only in girly clothes? Yet he didn't. If he was honest, he didn't even mind that much. The only hassle was the brassieres and even those he slowly got used to. And then there were the dresses. He definitely felt something when he slipped into one. Not that Emilio would admit it to Nadine, but every time he stepped into one, felt the fabric glide over his body, his heart skipped a beat. At least when his heart was allowed to beat in the first place.

So his clothing preferences weren't it too. What was left? Maybe his activities? There must be typical guy stuff he liked to do. But even here he drew blanks. Everything he liked to do could be easily done by a woman and no one would raise an eyebrow. So what was left? There was nothing. Not a single shred was left that should make him cling to being a man. So why couldn't he accept himself as a woman? To embrace his female side. He was a woman now and shouldn't hide from it. Yet it felt so hard to do.

"Soon or later you will be mine, Sugardoll. Body and soul."

The whisper tore Emilio out of his inner reflection. Buds Melone. He was here. Coming to claim him.

Panicked Emilio's eyes returned to the street, but no one was there. The schoolgirls had left. When? Emilio wasn't sure. Still in panic, Emilio concentrated on his new sense. If Buds Melone was here then he must feel his gaze. But there was nothing. Now and then he felt Nadine's gaze on his back. Every gaze on his front he could attribute to a pedestrian he could see. There was no Buds Melone. He was being paranoid.

The image of Buds Melone undressing came to mind. The hungry, slimy, and the utterly disgusting gaze of need as Buds looked towards Emilio. As epiphanies go this was an ugly one. Emilio had found his demon. Not Buds Melone. He was dead. Probably for a long time. But accepting himself as a woman was to accept that others saw him as one too. Nadine tried him to embrace it because she thought this would help Emilio. But others would want him to embrace it for a different reason. He was no Succubus, but his body was womanly. Many would long for it. Try to have sex with him. That was what it means to be a woman and accept it, right? But Emilio wasn't ready. Not even close. All the could think was the helplessness he had felt. His class robbing him of his freedom of movement screamed to him that he always would be the victim. Once his key was unhinged there was nothing Emilio could do and any villain could do anything to him. That scared him. More than he could admit. Even to himself.

The arrival of new pedestrians who stopped before him caught his attention. What he saw confused him and thankfully drew his mind away from brooding. There was one woman with a bigger chest than Emilio. She had a few years on him. Maybe in her thirties. What made Emilio stare was her body. As if it was molded by sin itself. Definitely a Succubus or a sub-class of one, Emilio reasoned. Yet she didn't dress like one. Looking more like a strict governess or secretary. Somehow she made that look work for her. And in a sexy way. Emilio even was a little jealous of the fact. The woman also had a tail slowly swishing behind her and small horns poked through her dark brown hair. While the Succubus drew his attention first, her companions were an equally alluring sight. This one must be on steroids or black market potions because she was bulging with muscles. Tall, fit, and beefy. She looked like an Amazon if it hadn't been for two details. She too had horns, but her real feature was enormous breasts. How they staid upright and perky was beyond Emilio. While pretty, the third woman was clearly overshadowed by the two older woman. Yet she too had an aura of some kind on her. She dressed strangely too. A mixture of robe and dress in black and pink.

Emilio lost sight of them as they entered the shop. He could only hear murmurs until they reached Nadine. From the voice alone Emilio guessed it was the Succubus who spoke up first. "The woman on display is magnificent. How does she stay so still?"

"How did you know Emilia is alive and not a mannequin?" Nadine asked baffled.

"I saw her health bar floating above her. It's a thing of my class," the Succubus explained. "So how does she do it? And why?"

"Emilia is- My marketing consultant. She has a rather uncommon class, but she is trying her best to make it work," Nadine explained.

"Is that why she has a key stuck in her back?" The question came from a younger voice. Probably the girl in black and pink Emilio reasoned. Maybe she was the daughter of the other two.

"Correct," Nadine admitted. "It is- Rather weird I admit."

"Oh we know all there is about weird," a deeper female voice chimed in. "Our whole family is seeping with it."

"So what can I do for you?" Nadine asked.

"Sexy Mom here has her first social event as department head in a few days," the younger woman explained. "A dress like the 'not-mannequin' might be fine."

"Oh, she is a doll," Nadine corrected her. "By class I mean. They call it an undesirable one, but I just love the look of hers."

"Undesirable?" the Succubus asked. "We know all about them. You either hate them or learn to love them."

"Or you fall in love with someone who has one," the bodybuilder added.

"Sexy Mom is an Empusa and Beefy Mom is a Heylin," the daughter explained.

"And you?" Nadine asked.

"Oh, I don't have an undesirable class," the girl admitted. "I am a Necromancer. But my future girlfriend has one. She's a Majune."

"Future?"

"Well, she is only six years old for now."

Before Nadine could question her, the Empusa spoke up. "It's some strange game they play. Majune can get rid of some stats and regain them. Somehow that equals to years to them."

"I see what you mean with your whole family is weird," Nadine admitted. "I hope your future girlfriend grows up soon."

"I think a month or two and she'll be ready," the daughter clued them in. "I wouldn't mind seeing her then in one of these dresses."

"Speaking of-" Nadine said to change topics. "How about we talk more about the dress for your mother."

Emilio lost interest as the talks shifted to fabric and cuts. His mind preoccupied with a rather strange concept. Could someone fall in love with a class? An undesirable no less? In the quietness of his own mind, he had to admit that he hated his new class at first. But now more and more redeeming points made itself known. The question was if it would ever be enough to offset the glaring drawbacks. But as strange as it was knowing that others found peace with their class gave him some hope.

* * * * * * * * * *

Claire cursed as she ended the call on her cellphone. First, the bureaucracy would do everything to delay the delivery. Now, it had arrived early. Not long after she had left work. The museum's directorate had opted to not inform Claire of the arrival of the second doll. It was late and one day delay might not hurt the person stuck in hibernation sleep. But then a bunch of policemen showed up. They called Claire and reluctantly she agreed to come back. Now she had called her mother who would send Emilia along her way.

She frowned as she arrived at the employee entrance to the museum. Anthony, the guard, wasn't there in his booth. Maybe he was inside with the police officers. Claire used her spare key to let herself in.

As she came close to her workshop Claire heard loud arguments. The big sliding door was slightly ajar and she was about to push it open when the sight from the workshop stunned her. There were Anthony and the museum's Directorate. Along with three policemen who had drawn their guns on them. This was definitely not normal.

While two officers held the hostages at gunpoint a third was busy opening crates. In one Claire already saw the second doll. She was unlike Emilia. Equally refined in beauty, her body suggested a more mature age. Maybe in her fifties, but still looking amazingly good for her age. She appeared to be sleeping. Her closed eyes framed by ebony hair.

"Found it!" one officer yelled. Holding up a large key. He proceeded to step close to the second doll. He pushed the key in and Claire heard a click, before hastily bringing space between himself and the doll.

The doll's eyes fluttered and sprang open. She appeared to sway, nearly losing her balance, before catching herself. Then the doll looked around her. Not in a panic, like Emilia had done. Instead, her eyes were cold and calculating. Her focus came to rest on the policemen. "Pigs," she hissed.

The officer who animated her raised his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Scarlet Wind," he said and repeated it a few times.

Those two words clearly surprised the doll. "Those keywords belong to one of my lieutenants-"

"My grandfather," the officer threw in.

"I take it some time has passed then," the doll mused aloud. "Why do you wear the skin of my enemies."

The officer stripped his jacket with haste and so did his two accomplices. "We infiltrated the police in order to get to you. They kept you in a high-security facility. A frontal assault was improbable so we tried infiltration. But that is now mood. There is no need anymore. You are finally free and the families of your lieutenants await your command, Mister Melone."

Claire gasped. That was the reason why no one had ever found Buds Melone. He must have had a second class stone of Emilia's class. Cornered in the raid Buds must have used it as a way out.

"What about them?" Buds Melone asked. Pointing at the hostages.

"Insurance for if we had run into problems," the dirty cop admitted.

"You didn't." A cruel smile crept onto the dolls face. "Prove to me that you are loyal and not some undercovers. Kill them."

There was no hesitation. The corrupt cops opened fire. The slaughter made Claire gasp. This was wrong. She needed to get help.

"Someone is at the door!" Buds yelled.

But Claire was already gone. Running down the hallway as fast as she could.

* * * * * * * * * *

Emilio's hands trembled with nervousness. Not a few hours ago he had fought with his inner demons. There was progress he admitted, but the fight was far from being won. Now he was supposed to help a second doll come to terms with her new reality. Emilio hadn't figured out yet how to do just that. He himself wasn't used to his new reality yet.

As Emilio wasn't sure where the side entrance of the museum was. Claire said to meet her there or that someone would get him from there. But as he saw a cop near the main entrance Emilio decided to head in there.

"Hello. My Name is Emilio Vannelli," he greeted the officer. "I am here for the second doll. To comfort her or something."

"Right, the real Sugardoll-"

"Please don't call me that," Emilio snapped.

"I apologize, Miss. Please follow me."

The officer held open the door for Emilio who entered with a nod. He found himself in a big atrium. There was a ticket booth to the side and hallways that lead to different parts of the museum. Emilio was impressed. The building being bigger than he imagined.

A hand landed on Emilio's shoulder. "Let me show you where you-" Whatever the cop meant to say was cut off by a cry of pain. Turning around, Emilio saw him falling against the door. A dagger was buried deep in his shoulder. What was strange was that the officer already had drawn his weapon. A vicious looking short sword.

Someone grabbed Emilio's hand and dragged him with her. "Run!" By instinct and despite confusion Emilio complied. Only a few paces down Emilio's mind caught up. It was Claire's dagger in the cop's shoulder and she was dragging him along.

"What the hell is going on?" he asked between huffs as he and Claire sprinted into a big hall.

"Corrupt cops. The locked down the building. I tried to escape through the side entrance, but they already had a guy there. Fortunately, most of them don't carry guns."

"Are they here to steal something?"

Claire stopped at the junction leading out of the hall. For a moment she hesitated with the choice where they should run to.

"No, they are here to break someone out. Emilia-" Claire caught his eyes. "Buds Melone is here."

"He is?" Emilio staggered a few steps back. "The second doll. We have to save her. We can't let Buds do the same things to her that he did to me."

"Emilia! Buds Melone is the second doll!"

"Right you are, girl."

Claire and Emilio turned around towards the voice. It was a man that had stripped most of his clothes. He had drawn a gun, yet held it gingerly to the side. With menacing steps, he crept closer. "Really girl? Did no one ever tell you to not bring a knife to a gunfight?"

Emilio just had enough time to glance at Claire to see her hand clutching her dagger with knuckles turning white. Then she spun into action and all Emilio could see was a blur. Then there was a heavy thud and Emilio found the villain had fallen over. Claire's dagger buried deep in his eye socket.

"Is he dead?" Claire asked. "I never killed a man before."

"That was awesome," Emilio blurred out. "Talk about critical hits-"

Nervously, Claire stepped forward and freed her dagger. Yet before she could step towards the gun loud clapping drew their attention.

Not sixty feet away a woman and two men arrived. Something about her looks spoke to him and by instinct, Emilio recognized what she was. A doll of the same class as him. Which meant that this was- "Buds Melone."

"What a surprise," the woman purred. "My Sugardoll. Here to welcome me back. I missed you. Even though the time flew by in a heartbeat."

Claire started to back away and Emilio did the same a heartbeat later. "I want nothing to do with you," he spat back. "You ruined my life!"

"I am sorry," Buds said with a shrug. "Truly am. I didn't know. All these years without a key. They were supposed to make you fall in love with me. I did know a lot about the class we both now share. But I did not know that without our key we cease to be awake. Now I have a second chance. Soon you won't need someone else. You will have me."

"Never!" Emilio shouted. As if it was a signal his shout broke the lull of the moment. Claire and him broke out into a sprint. Hot on their trails was the reincarnated gangster and his goons.

As they rounded a corner, Claire grabbed him and pulled him into a narrow corridor Emilio had totally missed. Their hunters ran past them and they were safe. But only for the moment.

"What are we gonna do? We can't outrun them forever." Claire was pacing the narrow gang. "They have us surrounded and we can't get out."

"Can't you call the cops?" Emilio suggested. "The real ones. With that tiny phone, you carry with you."

"Would if I could. I lost my purse when I tried to escape through the side entrance. Damn it, Emilia. I don't wanna die. In theory, I know I'll only lose two years of memory as the price for respawning. But I don't wanna lose anything. What are we gonna do?"

Emilio's gaze roamed the area and his eye settled on a glass case framed in red. "We fight," he proclaimed as his fist connected with the glass. It shattered into thousand pieces and made a lot of noise. Not that Emilio cared as he grabbed the fireman's ax. "We find a weak spot and breakthrough. Then we contact the authorities."

Claire gave a hesitant nod. "There is a second side entrance not far away from here."

"Lead the way," Emilio urged.

Together they snuck through the exhibits. Trying to stay low and out of sight. They knew they came closer as they followed the emergency exit signs. But their hearts sank as they found the doors chained shut.

"I always told my men the best traps are those you build around bait."

The girls scrambled to turn around. There, Buds and his goons waited for them. "Guys. Be so dear to get my doll. Kill the other one. And lose the guns. Always hated them."

Both goons looked at each other and shrugged. They holstered their guns and drew short swords.

Emilio spared a glance towards Claire, who looked pale but had her dagger ready. He knew one shouldn't dismiss her. She had told him once why she carried daggers. In her childhood, she had been clumsy with her hands. Low dexterity stats in her fingers. When she had graduated her mother had surprised her with a class stone. One for a dagger-wielding dualist class. A class with a boost to dexterity stats in her hands. She probably could hold her own against one of the police trained goons. But two?

It made him grip his fireman's ax even tighter. Emilio had never been a fighter. Preferring studies over physical activities. Yet now there was no other choice. He spared a glance at his weapon. The edge of the head was small, but the shaft was long and gave him some reach.

Then the goons arrived and deeper thoughts eluded him as a skirmish broke out. Emilio swung wide and use his reach to keep his opponent at bay. It worked, but only for a moment. As soon as Emilio's assailant figured out how heavy and unwieldy the ax was he lunged between swings. Emilio barely blocked his foe's blade. With the head of the ax no less. He then spun the ax and hit his attacker with the shaft on the hand. Making him drop his sword. But Emilio wasn't done. Twirling into the reach of the adversary he used the momentum to bury the ax deep in the chest. His opponent fell to the floor unmoving. No matter how many hitpoints one had, a carved in heart was always lethal. How Emilio came up with this combination attack was beyond him, but he had no time to spare to contemplate it. He spun around to help Claire, only to see her too sinking her weapon into her enemies heart.

Claire looked worse for wear, but he could see no critical hits on her. Which left Emilio to glare at the only other person around. Buds smirked as he saw Emilio stare at him. "Bravo, my doll. Very impressive. But then again I knew what this class could do."

Emilio meanwhile hefted his ax. "You know what, Claire? I am tired of running."

He didn't look back as he charged Buds head on, but his old foe was faster. Sprinting through hallways and exhibits. It ended of all things near a display of bronze age farming technics. It was there that Buds slowed down and waited for Emilio to catch up.

"My doll, didn't you ever wonder why I gave you this class?"

"You wanted someone you could abuse. It wasn't enough to make me a woman. I had to be helpless so you could take advantage of me. That's why you gave me a class made by none other than the Duchess of perverts."

Emilio recoiled as Buds laughed out loud. "No, my doll. Not at all. I admit I got sidetracked, but you were supposed to be my bodyguard. Someone to defend me against all threats."

"Stop talking nonsense. What good is a bodyguard that can't move?"

"Oh, you haven't figured it out yet? We can unhinge and rehinge our keys at will. All we need is a little training. And who would be better as bodyguards? We look non-threatening, right? Yet our physical stats betray our outward appearance as fake. That's how the Duchess of Bannow Hill envisioned our class. The superior fighter everyone would dismiss as weak. Or simply as an object."

"But there is one more detail that you are missing," Buds added. He stepped towards the display and lifted a bronze scythe of a wax mannequin. Despite it being a tool for farming Buds gave it a few test swings. With each of those lunges, the movement was more fluid. "You see our biggest strength is that we can master any weapon in record time." Then Buds gave him a nasty grin. "And, my doll, to us everything is a weapon."

"Are you done trying to intimidate me?" Emilio shot back. "If everything you say is true then the same counts for me. I am done being afraid of you."

"But you really should be." There was a glint of pure murder and madness in Buds' eyes. It looked so very strange on his beautiful feminine face. But it didn't last as Buds charged him.

There was a flurry of attacks. Emilio might have been impressed how anyone could wield a farming tool as a deadly weapon if he wasn't blocking each and every lunge with a counterattack of his own. For a moment it appeared they were evenly matched, but it didn't last. Slowly Emilio was pushed back. Buds was stronger and more experienced. It showed.

There was a final heavy attack and Emilio lost grip of his weapon. His ax skittered along the marmor flooring.

"Do you really think I came to were I am today by relying on a class?" Buds taunted him. "You have a lot to learn, my Sugardoll."

Buds took a step forward only to stumble two back as a silver blur pierced his skin right between neck and collarbone. It was Claire's dagger.

"I am done running too," she declared. Searching for Emilio's eyes. "We either live together or die together. Friends protect each other."

"Then die!" Buds screamed in a howling fury. Pulling out the dagger despite leaving him bleeding heavily. Then he threw it back at Claire who fell to her knees as her own weapon buried itself in her tight. "Damn! I aimed for her heart."

Emilio scampered for his ax, but as he felt the shaft underneath his fingers he saw that he was too late. Buds was standing above Claire. Pressing the sharp edge of the scythe on he throat.

"First, I kill your friend," Buds declared in a dangerously low whisper. "Then I'll kill you. But don't worry, my doll. I will find you. And we will do this over and over again. Until one day, you give in."

Emilio's eyes found Claire's. They were full of fear. It was his actions that endangered her and he knew that he had to end it. But Buds was right. He was faster, stronger, and more experienced than Emilio. And he knew every strength their shared class possessed. All Emilio had experienced was the weakness of the class. It made him look up at Buds Melone in a new light.

"Fine. You win," Emilio pressed out through gritted teeth. "Let her go and I submit willingly." He threw away his ax. "I'll be the Sugardoll you always wanted."

Emilio saw the hesitation in Buds eyes. To make his intention clear he stepped back a few paces. Then he sat down and leaned back as far as he could. Until the key in his back scraped against the floor. Then she spread her legs wide. "Come take me. Like you always wanted."

Emilio cringed as a nasty smile appeared on Buds' face. It was another truth that Buds was right about. Their bodies looked divine and innocent. Womanly and weak, but in moments like these the truth came out. Behind the facade, a monster could hide. One who stepped away from Claire and towards Emilio. He even threw away his scythe. So sure that he had won by breaking Emilio. He crouched down and crept close to Emilio. Like he wanted to hump him with equipment that was now missing anyway.

"I knew you would come to your senses Sugardoll," Buds whispered while pushing an errant strand out of Emilio's face.

"Of course I would," Emilio agreed. "You know all the strength of our class." Now all hints of submissiveness left Emilio and a grin appeared on his face. "But I know a few things too. And I want to share them." Before Buds could react Emilio used his legs to cling to him and hook into each other behind Buds' back. "First. My name is not Sugardoll and it never will be. It is Emilia Vannelli and I am proud of it."

Now Buds started to fight her and tried to dislodge Emilia, but she held fast. "Second, you may know all the strength of our class but I know our weaknesses. I protected mine. Did you?"

Understanding blossomed in Buds eyes along with desperation and fear. Emilia's key was buried under them. Trapped against the floor. But Buds was out in the open and Emilia finally reached her goal. Her feet had shimmied up enough to latch onto Buds key. "And at last I want you to know this: I won!"

Emilia strained against Buds and she succeeded. Not only unhinged she the key. It shot out of its socket and flew through the hall. It landed with a crash and the sound of broken glass. Not that Emilia cared. With disgust, she rolled Buds' lifeless body off herself. Then she limped towards her friend.

Claire was bleeding, but not heavily. The dagger in her tight also plugging the wound. Tiredly she looked up. "We won?"

"Yeah, we did," Emilia agreed with her own tired smile. She helped her friend get up who winced in pain as she tried to stand on her injured leg. "Sorry about you getting hurt."

"Well, it was a fight worthy of a few scrapes. I mean you-" Claire stopped as she looked up and down at Emilia. "Are you kidding me? There is not a single nick on you."

Now that Claire mentioned it Emilia had to agree that it was a small miracle. Or there was even more to the class than Buds suspected.

"So, it is finally Emilia now?" Claire asked with a smirk.

"Yeah," Emilia admitted with a tired sigh. "I am done running. From him or myself."

"Good for you," Claire agreed. "What about this murderous doll? Can we kill him now?"

Emilia shook her head. "I fear not. He only would lose his memory. And I always want him to remember. That I won and that I will never be his."

* * * * * * * * * *

Emilia stared at the street. Unmoving, yet at peace. Once more standing in the display window of the shop. Behind her, she could hear Claire, who repeated every detail to her mother for the tenth time. How the cops had found them shortly after beating Buds Melone. This time the real ones. They had responded when a few museum's employees respawned all at once. None had their memories, but it took no genius to figure out where something did go amiss.

Between respawn and the police arriving not even a quarter hour had passed. Yet to Emilia the frantic escape and then the fights felt like a small eternity. But that was in the past. Now, Emilia was ready to look into the future. Or rather still the street. Not that she was really seeing any of it. Her mind was within her. She might hate Buds Melone, but he had said things that put things into perspective. And with it came a new goal. One she trained her mind on.

In her back was her key. For the longest time a mark of her slavery to her own class. A weakness. Something to be feared. And at the moment utterly at a standstill. This was where Emilia concentrated her focus and will for the last few hours.

There was a click and the key began to spin. Movement returned to her and expressed itself as a proud smile on her face. Slowly she turned around to face Nadine and Claire. Both staring at her in shock.

"But your key was unhinged," Nadine pointed out.

"It was," Emilia agreed. A serious look on her face. "But now I have control over it. Now, this class is not a burden to me anymore. I am Emilia Vannelli and I am a Bisque doll. And proud to be so. Pity those that stand in my way." Then a sheepish smile broke through. "I am not feeling this dress. Can I try another one? Maybe the green one?"

Laughter broke the tension and Emilia join in. There was still a lot of uncertainty in her life. But she had found friends who would help her. With their strength not only didn't she fear the future anymore. She welcomed it.