Porcelain Doll Novels & Stories

Some children pressed their faces to the glass fronts, peering into the faces of baby dolls and antique plastic figurines. There were also areas where teddy bear collections were housed in an early Victorian building that has been arranged and furnished as a timeless period home of yesterday. My wrist hurt when Lucifer suddenly dragged me towards a stuff toy which looks like a penguin that has a hat on its head. “Wow, this penguin is so cute!” “It’s Pororo.” Lucifer suddenly said which made me look at him. “Pororo? He’s so cute. By the way, how did you know its name?” I asked him.

He could make her legs tremble in just a few minutes. "Then why did you buy this thing?" He put the diary back in the drawer, took out the manual for the doll, and touched the doll's arm. The doll was made up of silica gel, and it felt realistic, but it still couldn't replicate a real-life human being. It was not as comfortable as Sigrid, nor was it as pretty as Sigrid. George was a little disgusted. "It's like a corpse. Do you think I would indulge in this kind of thing?"

"A set of tiny, hand-painted porcelain dolls. Imagine, Denera, your little one playing with these, creating stories and adventures." I glanced at Rockan again, who was now watching the scene unfold with a hint of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying Granny Yeneva's boundless enthusiasm, even if he wasn't actively participating. "They are beautiful, Granny," I said, picking up one of the dolls. It was a tiny, delicate figure, dressed in a flowing gown of blue and silver. "Yes, they are," Granny Yeneva agreed, her voice softening. "And just think, Denera, if you were to have a little girl, she could play with these dolls, just like you did when you we

Mi muñeca de porcelana… De mí, nunca te alejarás. (My porcelain doll… From me, you will never get away.)

" * Pftt* ... By the way, why are you holding dolls? Was there like a sale out there or something and you discovered your creepy plangonologist side? What? Your girlfriend keeping you on a tight leash, so you're fucking dolls now?" ".... Ohhhh... Yeah, that's definitely it. You know I was really tempted with this one doll that was on sale because it really looks like you." "* Scoffs* Brat. There's no way they sell old man dolls, now do they?" " They do! It's called grandpa Galahad and it comes with 3 very kinky kinds of underwear. " " That's disturbing in so many ways. " V4 shuddered. I slowly hold one of the dolls really close to his face and wait. V4 turns to look at me and was shocked to

A lush garden filled with vibrant flowers and towering trees. In the centre lies a small, serene grave adorned with a single peony. Rhys with a weathered face and gentle eyes, slowly approached, his steps heavy with the weight of memories. Raindrops fell softly, casting a melancholic veil over the scene. He smiled down at the grave and replaced the weathered Peony with a new one. “Another day, my doll.” With trembling hands, he delicately placed a fresh peony on the grave, its petals glistening with raindrops. He knelt beside it, his movements slow and deliberate. Sitting beside the grave, he gazed at it with a mixture of longing and acceptance.

Near the center aisle, a fresh shipment of figures rested on velvet pedestals, drawing my attention immediately. ​A sales associate stepped out from behind the register, smoothing her tailored uniform as she approached me with a practiced smile. Her hand hovered near a display housing two intricately styled figures with painted porcelain skin and hand-stitched silk garments. She leaned in slightly, gesturing toward the delicate hand-painted irises of the display model, pointing out how the glass caught the ambient light to mimic the depth of a living gaze. "Our new dolls, Miss Lora." ​"Yes, I noticed," I said, offering a slight nod in appreciation of the craftsmanship. "They really are uniqu

My husband, Calvin Ziegler, had recently acquired an odd fetish. Three months ago, he brought home a silicone doll. It was a life-sized thing with chestnut-colored curls, full pink lips, and a face that could have belonged to a femme fatale. He told me the doll was a prize from a company team-building raffle. Supposedly, it was made for stress relief. "It's all the rage these days for those who are overwhelmed by stress," he said. "You hug it while sleeping for decompression."

And it was filled with dolls. Not children's dolls. Life-sized, hyper-realistic silicone figures arranged on display stands, each one posed differently. Some sat on velvet chairs, some stood against the walls, some lay on the large bed in the center of the room. They had perfect bodies—round breasts, small waists, full hips. Faces that were beautiful but empty. Celeste's hand came up to cover her mouth. "What... what is this place?" I walked past her into the room, running my hand over the arm of one of the dolls. The silicone felt almost like skin, warm to the touch from the climate control.

I stole my childhood friend’s doll. Then, he called to complain. I listened to him wail as the doll sat in my hand, its texture somehow akin to that of human skin. Under its skirt was something remarkably female. This left me confused. ‘Is this doll female or male?’ Then, more importantly… ‘Did it come with both organs? Or is this modified?’ He sounded hysterical over the line. Surprised by this, I accidentally squished the doll’s limbs a little.