Living Doll Novels & Stories

When I finally pushed through the front door of the house, the smell of stale beer, burnt toast, and his cheap cologne hit me like a slap. He was sprawled in the living room recliner, still in yesterday's stained T-shirt and sweatpants. His feet were up, a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey dangling from his fingers. The TV blared some sports replay he wasn't even watching. His bloodshot eyes flicked up, landed on me, then zeroed in on the marks. A slow, ugly smirk curled his lip. "Well, well. Little princess decided to come home after all." He sat up slowly, bottle clinking against the side table. "And look at you. Marked up like a street bitch in heat."

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.

A grim thought enters my mind as I carefully watch him, so transfixed. I am his doll. I used to play with dolls when I was a little girl. When my mama is still alive, and my father is still sober. This is exactly how you play a doll. Dressed it up. Making sure that it always looks good and beautiful, and prepping it like a princess. Just like me. I thought I would be sleeping down in a basement, but instead, he put me in this spacious room with all the lavish comfort it brings, but that doesn’t change the fact that I am no more than an object to his eyes.

The girls cheered when I stepped inside and dropped my coat, revealing the full slutty look. “Finally! Our little virgin slut made it,” Sasha laughed. We started with truth or dare, wine flowing fast. It turned filthy within minutes. Cici got dared first. She picked up a thick, realistic ten-inch rubber dildo, lubed it generously, and straddled it right in the center of the circle. I held the camera on my phone, recording every second as she sank down onto it with a loud moan. “Oh my god… it’s so deep,” she gasped, the bulge visible in her lower belly when she took it all. She rode it hard, hips rolling, breasts bouncing freely.

It generally only took a moment of careful contemplation before the face began to speak to her, and then the paintbrush would begin to dance in her hand, and before she knew it, there was a jovial smiling face looking up at her. After each layer of flesh-toned paint, the doll would need to be fired. Since the kiln was located elsewhere on the property, Serendipity relied heavily on Maevis to take away her sweet friends and bring them back unharmed in a timely fashion. She had eventually come accustom to taking leave from one companion for a spell only to be reunited with her once more time and again, finding solace in another equally precious individual as she waited, until at last the paint

He did save her from her father but instead took his place in her life to fulfill his needs and desires. "I don't hit as hard as he does right doll?" He asks smirking. "No you don't." She replies trying to smile at him. He doesn’t hurt her that often but his words kill her a thousand times. They make her feel so little; they make her feel like she is a no body. "Daddy only hurts you when you act naughty right doll? When you don't follow his rules." He whispers caressing her cheeks softly. "Yes." She breathes out closing her eyes. A knot starts building up in the pit of her stomach, it feels good to have his touch after such a long time; well not a long time, but it sure does feel like a long

++++++++++ Another one of my witch ex-friends had a favorite toy… She liked it so much, that she brought it to her dorm that’s inside the campus. I’m not sure which residence hall that was but it’s in a fairly high-end one. This toy was a hard plastic doll that had long blond-brown hair and dark blue eyes that closed whenever you put it down on its back. This doll has a lot of stories connected to it since my friend is so proud of her. This is her favorite out of all of them: Back when she was around 5-6 years old, she had a nanny who was extremely mean. She was the type who seemed like an angel when in front of her parents but became demon-like when they were alone.

*Ana* “Oh…“ I barely manage to utter as I feel myself freeze on the spot. I only watch the maid continue to pull the doll out. Mykhol takes it from her to push into my free arm. I numbly feel the doll's long red wavy hair cascading over my arm. What is this? Unable to speak, I can only look back at the teen. My eyes dart around him as if to see some answer. But he doesn’t help at all. He’s just standing there grinning at me. What...this… My mind is trying to process the next word and failing. Finally, though, the teen doesn’t seem bothered by my silence, instead, he seems to take the opportunity to speak. I feel a rush of relief as he lets go of my hand- which I instantly pull back toward me

The child she named Grace. I hate the fucking thing, and I wish I’d never thought of the idea. It’s one of those things that has creepy eyes and always seems to be staring at you. It wets and cries, makes noises when it’s being fed, and even coos. I think the humans call them RealCare baby or a baby simulator, some shit like that. Absolutely ridiculous! However, it makes Lilly happy, and while she’s happy, she’s not fighting me. I can’t keep the lie going forever that the doll is our baby. But maybe I’ll steal an actual child in a few months and replace Grace. Lilly will never leave me then, and if anyone finds us, they’ll believe we had the child together.

(DARK INTEREST) “BORN without a soul. Created by the materials of ceramic and glass. A lifeless doll at first, that is gifted by life from the person that she once calls her father. The beautiful doll that was gifted to a princess, who ends up wishing to be her daughter.” Reading a book that is just like any other peculiar ones that she owns. Emie is taking notes of the past and life of one of them. “North, east, south, and west.”