The Tyrant's Comfort Doll Novels & Stories

“No. It can’t be. It can’t . . . ” He stepped away from the black book full of handwritten names of people who’d died, sitting on the writing desk he never used, gripping the Magic Eight Ball so tight his knuckles ached. He backed away and kicked something on the floor again. He spun, glanced down, and saw the animatronic tarantula on the floor. A gasp, not from him but from a blonde little boy he didn’t quite recognize . . . Dillon her brat son Dillon . . . who’d been on his hands and knees pushing the toy spider across the floor but had jumped up and was now staring at the toy with a wide-eyed expression crossed between fear and awe.

She stares wide-eyed at the Queen who just emerged from the inner chamber. Yuelan’s notes the guilty look on her servant’s face and decides to mess with her. She heard what the servant said about the doll. Not necessarily true. The doll is just someone she is using to distract herself from her horrid marriage, but she can’t have her personal servant spewing nonsenses. The girl needs to learn to keep her mouth shut. “Who am I obsessed with?” She questions in a calm tone like she is having a conversation about the weather with servant. While she waits for the servant to answer her question, she strides to set table and takes a sit. Suddenly she feels very farmish.

Daniel's boss, George Harrison, lived in a huge mansion. Daniel gently knocked on the door. "Mr. Harrison, I brought you a toy." George opened the door and warmly invited Daniel inside. Daniel placed the box in the middle of the living area and opened it. There I was, lying in a thin nurse outfit. The soft fabric hinted at my figure, and flowers were arranged around me, making the whole scene look strangely beautiful. "This is the newest technology from Jippongo. You've got to try the mouth. The tongue wraps around you like a snake. I guarantee you'll have a great time," Daniel introduced.

**A few days Later – Dungeon of the SARTORI Mafia** The dungeon was dark, cold, and filled with the smell of blood. Chains rattled as Tyler, tied to a metal chair, tried to move. His face was bruised, swollen, and bleeding. His body was broken; ribs were shattered, skin was torn, and breath was ragged. Tyler was no longer a man. He was a pile of flesh barely holding on to life. Across the room stood Satan himself.

“You’re having fun too.” “I’m tolerating it.” “Liar.” Because he might have been right. We passed a series of game stalls, each one louder than the last. People shouting, bells ringing, prizes hanging everywhere. Ryker slowed down, eyes scanning everything. Then he stopped. “This one,” he said. I followed his gaze. A dart game. Balloons lined up in rows, prizes hanging above them—cheap stuffed animals in every shape and color. And then I saw it. A penguin.

“Boss, we’re here for weapons. Not a child.” He knew. He could sense my interest. I gave a thin smile, cold and controlled. “The boy is interesting,” I said. Every movement he made stirred something long buried within me. Fragments of my childhood surfaced nights without warmth, blood stained hands, firearms as my favorite toys, a world that taught me cruelty, that I would be crushed if I didn’t fight back. And now, I was looking at another version of myself. A version I could protect. The auction continued. Numbers climbed. The gavel’s rhythm echoed like a heartbeat.

Dear lovely readers, We’re nearing the final chapters of The Tyrant’s Baby. It’s been an incredible journey bringing this story to life, and I’m so grateful for your support, love, and patience along the way. Stay tuned as we uncover the last twist, turn, and heartfelt moments in Selene and Alaric’s story. Thank you for being part of this adventure! With love, Yña Banana 🌙

"I want tatie." "Alright", I couldn't help but to laugh. "I'll buy you the doll that looks like your tatie." I scanned it as I put it into the trolley. Sara wasn't this thin nor straight, she had sensuous curves and was smaller than me which made her sexiness mix with a cuteness that I couldn't describe.

“Sweetheart, didn’t I tell you from the beginning that I’m fine. Look at you, now that you are pregnant, you can no longer abuse yourself like this.” After saying that, Tyr picked Blair Zea into his arms. She blinked at Tyr and asked, “Daddy, where have you been the last two days?” Tyr replied, “Daddy went away to buy Little Blair gifts.” Tyr gave Blair the Barbie doll he bought from Harbour City and said, “Daddy specially purchased this for you. Do you like it, Little Blair? “ “I like it.” Blair took that Barbie doll and cheered happily. Children were pretty simple.

I used them for my dolls. “You like my hair down,” I say because it’s the thing that comes to mind. “You like it pulled back.” I blink up at him. He’s still frowning, swaying like he does when he’s playing ball and waiting for the whistle, palpably uncomfortable. “How’d you get them?” I ask. He tosses a shoulder. “I traded. For the drain.” “The clog that wasn’t a thing?” “I got us a mattress and bedding, too.” My face flushes at the word ‘mattress.’ “Is that all?”