The first night, I lay in my bed and thought about Barbie. I knew she was right above me, in the attic, nestled in her pink plastic coffin between twenty or thirty mix-and-match outfits. I wasn't one of those girls who grew up and blamed Barbie for all of their problems. In fact, I was rather turned on by that silky blond hair and wide-eyed innocence. I will admit I knew Barbie was a bitch, the type of girl who would probably break my heart, use me for her one lesbian fling, trying out the other side of the fence with an unsuspecting dyke like me, and then leave me for some pretty boy, a latent gay eunuch named Ken who would never be able to give it to her the way I could. He would never want to spank that perfectly round ass of hers or pull on that long, blond hair. So maybe he would buy her that dream house and the pink corvette she always wanted, but I was sure he wouldn't know how to fist her until she screamed to be fucked like the little plastic tramp that she was... more