Author's note: this piece was inspired by this music video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rsfXYm9W2AQ

Never Gonna Let You Go

From the logbook of Corporal Joseph Miller:

I found my logbook today, and I have a moment, so I will write what I can, before SHE comes back.

Might as well talk about who I am first, and how I got into this mess, even if its just so I dont lose what little bit of my mind I have left.

My name is Joseph Miller, and I am a soldier. I got teased about my name in Basic Training, got called G.I. Joe, the whole thing, but eventually I showed them I belonged, and that I was as good as any of them, or better.

In fact it was because I was so good that I got volunteered for this mission in the first place.

I dont claim to understand the science behind it, but some eggheads found a way to send matter to another dimension, another universe.

Frankly, their attempts to explain it made my head hurt, so I stayed away from them as much as I could.

They had found another reality, or so they said, and had sent a robot through to make sure the whole thing worked, and it did, and the robot sent them back messages that said the world looked pretty much like ours, and there was some kind of dwelling near where the robot was.

Then the thing stopped transmitting, and instead of being worried about that, they decided they should send a person through - me.

I wasnt fond of the idea, but in the Army, when they say jump, you jump.

I was given my full gear, and a video camera was attached to my helmet so I could give an ongoing feed as I explored this new world.

I asked about air, water, food, and how long I was supposed to be there, but all my questions where tut-tutted, and soon I was ready to step through the “doorway” they had created.

I went through, and after a moment of disorientation, I got my bearings and looked around.

I saw the “rover”, and not far from it, I saw the “dwelling” they had been talking about.

It was a house, all right, but one done entirely in pink.

I shook my head and wondered who would live in a pink house, But I had my job to do, so I moved carefully forward toward the house, weapon at the ready.

The house seemed very silent, and still, and my instincts told me no one was likely home, but I still didnt relax, and did a complete circuit around the house before approaching the front door.

The house was quite large, practically a mansion, so this took me awhile to go around the whole perimeter. I looked up, and although there were what looked like three stories to the house, with a large balcony on the second floor that actually went halfway around the house.

I knocked, and the door came open, and I peered inside, calling out “Hello?” as I did so.

With no answer, I decided to do a recon inside, and went in.

If this house had been on our earth, it would definitely be owned by a woman who bought into every feminine stereotype ever invented.

Every possible surface was pink, and usually covered in lace. The house itself was set up in a square, so I headed to the left-hand side first, and found it had a large living room including a movie-screen size television, which was connected to a large kitchen, which was connected to a dining room, which took me to the end of that side of the house.

A short hallway connected the sides at the back, and once on the right side, the hallway had a number of doors on either side. When I opened the doors, the first room was a second living room, the second door was another bathroom, the third door led to a small bedroom, and the last door opened to a sauna/hot tub room.

Then the hallway came back over to the middle, where the center of the house was, and there was a grand staircase leading up to the second floor. Going up the stairs, I found a recreation room, a sewing room, a computer room, another bathroom, and a master bedroom that had a walk-in closet, its own bathroom, and a large set of french doors that led out to the balcony.

There was also a small staircase going up to an attic that seemed unused except as a storage area, and included a large pink hope chest in the middle of the room.

I went back down, and decided to look out from the balcony on the second floor to see what I could see of the landscape around the house.

So it was that I had the perfect viewpoint for when SHE arrived.

I heard Her first, a thundering noise that made me look skyward for clouds.

Then I saw Her, coming toward me, and couldnt even make myself draw a weapon, lost in the moment.

Other than size, she looked like a very typical little girl. She had pigtails, a white dress with puffy sleeves and a petticoat underneath it. she had a pair of white ankle socks and mary jane shoes.

She got quite close before she spotted me.

She squealed, a sound that had me dropping my weapon , and grabbing my ears as I sunk to my knees.

Thus I was totally helpless when she grabbed me, and brought me out of what I now realized was her room, and took me to her mother.

If she had squeezed me much harder, I’m quite sure I would have crushed ribs, at the least, but she held me softly enough that I could breath, which I was grateful for.

“Mama, look what I found.”

I’m not sure what kind of ‘Mama” I expected. Maybe a giant-sized version of Donna Reed, based on how the child was dressed.

But that idea was far wrong.

She was about forty feet high in her spiked heels, and most of that was uncovered. The only things she was wearing was a bra and panty set, garter belt, and a sheer robe that hung open from her shoulders.

And any hope I had of an intelligent conversation faded once I saw the large whiskey in her hand, and smelt her breath, which stank like she had been swimming in a brewery.

“Play nice with your new doll.” She slurred, and the girl went back to her “dollhouse” with me in her hands.

I never dreamed of what the “little girl” would do next.

She pushed in the chimney of the house, causing it to pop open so that she had access to the inside. Then she put her hand into the closet and pulled out a dress, a bikini set, and a pair of high heeled shoes.

She then began to strip me.

And with our size difference, there was little I could do about it.

Once she had me totally naked, she handed me the bikini.

Feeling like I had no options, I put it on, and then put on the dress and the shoes, feeling rather silly.

Not that my superiors are likely to read this, but I hope if they did they would not think the less of me that I didnt resist more, but at that moment, I felt like my best option was to play along, and hope to find a way back to the portal as soon as I could.

The young girl seemed reasonably happy with the results even if I probably looked ridiculous.

The next hour or so she changed my outfit a half dozen times, with short periods where she had me cooking pretend meals, or doing pretend laundry.

Eventually, she got tired, put me in a nightgown, and tucked me into the bed. Then she went away, and a few moments later she must have turned out the lights, because it got totally dark in the dollhouse.

I considered trying to find the portal, but without any lights I didnt like my chances. I decided to wait and see what the morning would bring ....

The morning turned out to bring more of the same. The only good things were that my “host” did seem to be aware that I wasnt a doll in the sense that she provided food and drink, and the house even had a working bathroom. The only trouble was as soon as she left, she turned off the lights in the room, leaving me with no chance to figure a way out of this strange situation.

Until today, that is, which has given me a chance to find my journal, and try and explore a bit of my environment beyond the house.

I figured out what happened to the robotic probe that came here before me. Something in the atmosphere interfered with its power system, and it shut down. That means I have no chance to open the portal from this side, and therefore the only way I’m going home is if they open it up from their side.

And if I were them, I woulldnt open it, since as far as they knew I’m dead and this universe is totally unusable by human beings.

Which may not be far from the truth ....

Regardless, I've programmed a copy of this diary into the probe, and if they ever try and recover it, they will at least know what happened to me.

And what my future is likely to look like - spending my days being a living doll for a giant-sized little girl, for as long as she wants me for that purpose.

But it could be worse. I remember how I used to treat my action figures as a boy. I doubt I would survive long if she treated me like them ....

This is Corporal Joseph Miller, signing off ....