His Doll Novels & Stories

Never. “This one looks good,” she remarked as she picked up a pretty pink Barbie doll from the shelf. A music doll. She pressed on the tummy of the doll and it started singing. This was the type her cute little daughter likes. Pink, soft, pretty, and a singer doll. She picked another and checked it too. She has to buy more than one doll for Rosie as she was known for spoiling her dolls quicker than expected.

"What are we playing?" "Families. This is the mommy, this is the daddy, this is the little girl." She arranged the dolls carefully. "They live in the big house and are very happy." "That sounds nice." "Do you think we'll always be happy, Papà?" The question gutted him. "What do you mean, tesoro?"

well her. Over the last few minutes, Anna’s dancing has become aggressive...almost like she’s trying to f**k me vertically on the dance floor. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it. I run my hands admiringly over the curve of her breasts, down her flat stomach and stop them at the apex of her inner thighs. It’s so tempting to run a hand under her dress and taste her essence that I know is dripping from her.

His eyes were dark and clear and direct and sitting in his face like they'd always been there and somehow nobody had noticed until right now. He looked — different. Not unrecognizable. Just — a sharper version of himself. Like something that had been turned up. The girl — Doll, someone from their year who had never in living memory moved that fast for anything academic — was already crossing the lot toward him at a speed that suggested she'd forgotten other people were watching. Her hands found his abdomen before she'd fully stopped moving, fingers spreading across his abs, and she looked up at him with a laugh that was mostly just breath.

I unlocked the door, kicked it closed with a hip, and dropped the mystery gift on my kitchen table beside a half-eaten sandwich and a week’s worth of wine glasses. Unwrapping it felt ceremonial. The bow slipped free, the lid came off, and nestled in black velvet was a doll. No. Not a doll. A...thing. She was about eighteen inches tall, dressed in a Victorian-style dress with tiny pearl buttons. Porcelain skin, the kind that shimmered faintly when I tilted it under the light. And the eyes— oh god. The eyes. Glass, sure. But too deep and too focused. They were the color of old blood, ringed in hazel. Fixed forward, yet I swore they tracked me. When I tilted the doll slightly, those glossy iris

The dress hugged her figure perfectly, highlighting her curves elegantly while still looking sophisticated. The slit stopped halfway across her thigh, giving her an effortlessly bold appearance. Her long hair flowed freely behind her back in soft waves. With the help of eyeliner and mascara, her doll-like eyes stood out even more beautifully. Her lips were painted with a mix of dark red and black shades that perfectly matched her outfit. That was one thing about Claudia— She loved matching her makeup with her dressing style. Taking one last glance at herself, she smiled proudly before calling Trevor. He picked up immediately.

He'd given her a necklace that cost a few hundred dollars, money he'd saved for a long time. She'd held that simple piece of jewelry and cried like a fool who'd never seen anything so beautiful. He had been so proud then, thinking he was the prince saving Cinderella. A joke. It was all a fucking joke. She was the Thorne Principessa. She'd probably seen more diamonds than he'd seen rocks. Rocco remembered the tattoo, a tangle of black thorns and a blood-red rose between her shoulder blades, wild and dangerous. He used to kiss it every time they made love.

I leaned in closer. “See, Vivienne… I might look like a doll. I might act like a doll sometimes, smile when they tell me to smile, bleed when they tell me to bleed, stay quiet when they tell me to stay quiet. But dolls don’t stay porcelain forever. Dolls crack. And when they crack, they cut. I'm a doll but sometimes I can be Barbie or Annabel.” I smiled wider, slow, sharp, and bloody.

"I picked it out special." His jaw clenched. "I remembered you like lace. You saw it, right? Her lace-hem skirt? I bet that would feel good lifting up, wouldn't it. I remembered you like it in black, too." He continued to say nothing. "The top I had to make do, but the silk's not bad. What shade is that, steel blue? Looks good on her, I think. She's got nice tits." Dolly patted him on the chest and pushed past him as well with a refreshed sigh. "That's for making me wake up at eight, by the way. Next time, push it back to ten and after, and I won't make you have to hide a hard-on all day."

After a few minutes, I feel the bed dip and an arm wrap around my body. "I'm sorry you had to see that today doll, people just need to understand they can't try to take you away from me" he whispers near my ear, thinking I was asleep "anyone who tries to get in the middle of this or tries to take you two away from me, well let's just say they won't be seeing another day, goodnight doll" he whispers placing a kiss on my cheek before laying down, his arm remaining around me, I open my eyes staring at the wall.