My Life As Doll Furniture Novels & Stories

He accessed them from his laptop, which he kept in his office or as most people called it the garden shed. Doreen was banned from the shed, as he was banned from her small sitting room which was full of those damn dolls, what did she call them, re-born, yes that was it. God they were creepy, she spent her spare time knitting matinee jackets for them. They had never had children, and this was her way of compensating. Trouble was she didn't like sex, so his idea of offsetting her lack off libido, was keeping an eye on his guests, well only the female ones mainly. He'd certainly seen a few things in his time that was for sure.

All of them old, covered in dust. Then I saw something that made my blood freeze. Carlos's things. His leather gloves. A small knife he always carried. How did she get them? I moved deeper into the room. In the far corner, I found something that made me gasp. Dolls. Seven small dolls lined up on a shelf. They looked like real people. Like the guests who had stayed here. One doll had pins stuck all through its body. Another had its head cut off. A third had its arms and legs torn away. The others were damaged in different terrible ways.

I managed to squeak out of my throat. “Yes, what?” I asked planting a small peck on Sunshine’s bottom lip. God, she tastes divine almost like sweet wine. She was catnip to me, and she didn’t even know it. “Yes, I want your gift” I murmured. I pulled my face away, disappointed I couldn’t have more of her, If I didn’t hold myself together then I would be taking more than a kiss. “What kind of Doll is he?” she asked. I reached over and sat the doll on the Edge of the bed “He is a special toy that I made a very long time ago, I carved him out of a very special magical tree where I’m from and infused him with shadow magic”

"At mum's hospital, I've been seeing Zach too much these days." "Same Tiffany's ex?" Yvonne frowned. "What could that bitch be frequenting the hospital for? Don't tell me he has COVID," "You're nasty." Pascal hissed, continuing their stride. "I love you Pascal!" She jokingly laughed, skipping her legs as she followed him behind. -- [Julie's Furniture Store] As the standard for other stores in the country, the store was well packed with diverse designs of furnishings and house upholsteries. Not just couches and dinning sets and tables, but also bedframes and bedstands in unique categories.

They walked into the room with a little bundle of joy in their arms and walked up to him, showing him the face of a little baby girl. Innocently, the baby smiled and cooed, meeting his eyes and Oden's life was never the same. He had it, he had his own doll, and it wasn't just any kind of doll. It was his perfect doll.

Wolfram looked around as he skimmed through the life-sized dolls sitting in a corner. Eine was asking to store those for now because they scared her. They were beautiful, but she didn’t seem to feel safe around them. If Delta was going to hide, she should be hiding among those dolls.

Elena's point of view. I sit on the living room couch in Charles and Emma's house, surrounded by toys and baby gear scattered across every surface. The couch feels uneven behind me, and after shifting repeatedly, I reach back to find the source—a baby doll with its head twisted awkwardly. Its eyes, designed to close when lying flat, have one stubbornly stuck open. Gently, I fix the eyelid and straighten its head before placing it beside me.

I tried to console him, “Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? It’s alright. We can always go back to the temple and get you another one.” “No! The doll and I are connected! I can feel what happens to it!” “Connected?” I cleared my throat, “Just because you’re handsome doesn’t mean I’ll believe everything that comes out of your mouth, dude.” “No! You don’t get it! I can actually feel everything that’s done to the doll!” I smiled and calmed myself before replying, “I told you the doll was weird, didn’t I? So, what happened to it?” “I gave it away. I gave it to one of the more handsome ones when we were at the park yesterday.”

At the very center of the table sat an Evil Doll. The doll was only about half a foot tall, dressed in a kimono. The silk fabric shimmered with an eerie luster in the dimness, embroidered with intricate golden vine patterns. Some of the gold threads had already worn out, revealing the dark base beneath, resembling dried bloodstains.

Random bits of furniture, knick-knacks, and oddities filled the room, all for sale. An old cello, a little rough around the edges, but still clean, leans in the corner. In another, a nook has been assembled around a coffee table missing paint in several spots. A sofa from another era now sits next to a well-worn loveseat from no more than ten years ago. A few pillows, each in different colors, shapes, and sizes adorn the seats. Stood against another wall is a dressmaker’s mannequin wearing a frilly pink nightgown from a decade best forgotten. Next to it is a wooden display case showing off a collection of jewelry. The accessories are mostly silver with polished bits of turquoise and plenty o