Ugly Doll Book Novels & Stories

One particularly enormous volume bore nothing more than a single silver eye staring from its cover. Adelaide found herself slowing almost immediately. One shelf held nothing but books scarcely larger than her hand, their cloth covers embroidered with tiny silver stars and embroidered flowers instead of titles. Another overflowed with enormous illustrated volumes whose spines shimmered with crushed gemstones pressed into the leather, dragons and castles catching the lantern light whenever someone walked past. Adelaide frowned, her gaze drifting across the shelves. Unlike the histories, not a single spine here bore the mark of fire. No blackened wood. No stitches holding together what flame ha

I was the only place in the entire estate where no one looked at me and saw a mistake. That morning I carried my treasures there: the porcelain doll’s hand, the black scale (now wrapped in silk and hidden inside a tin box), and a book I had stolen from the library (The Chronicles of Eldoria, Volume III, the one with the torn page that showed a serpent prince with eyes of living fire). I was tracing the outline of his face with a finger when I heard humming. Soft. Sweet. Like warm honey dripping off a spoon. Isla toddled around the corner, dragging a stuffed rabbit twice her size. She wore a white dress embroidered with tiny roses, grass stains already on the hem. Her curls were tied with blu

"Quite the appetite. Just be careful not to play too rough, counselor. Some dolls break easier than they look." Humiliation and anger choked me. He was shaming me in the cruelest way possible. Julian sensed it. His hand found mine. He laced his fingers through mine. "Mr. Costello." His voice was still calm, but it held absolute power. "Some games, I prefer to make the rules myself." Damien's smile vanished. "We'll have plenty of time for games," Julian continued, looking Damien dead in the eye. "And you... Mr. Costello. Your time is up."

Meilin nods, and begins the tale of the shameful part of her family, and hopes that the Queen doesn’t hate her when she is done. “He is the one that sold you?” Yuelan questions when the blonde finished her tale. She feels bad on behalf of the blonde, because no one deserves to be treated the way the blonde was treated. If she could she would abolish the doll law. On the other hand, she couldn’t help but be grateful to her father, because if he hadn’t sold the girl she wouldn’t have met her. Selfish, she knows, but she is not perfect. “I am glad,” Yuelan speaks her thought out loud.

“If I don’t expose every single one of your lies today, I’m not a Collins.” Lucy grabbed me by the hair again and dragged me along behind her. The back of my head scraped against the hallway wallpaper the entire way. When Grace pushed open the next door, her footsteps halted abruptly. Taking up an entire wall was a glass display cabinet, beautifully lit by warm LED strips. Neatly arranged across three tiers of shelves were my ball-jointed dolls. Every single one of them was dressed in high-end, hand-stitched clothing. Their hair was perfectly styled, and their eyes were made of various brilliant gemstones. They were exquisitely beautiful.

He guided me down a hallway lined with dark wood panels and occasional portraits of stern‑looking ancestors. ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ I thought to myself. At the end of the corridor, a heavy oak door stood ajar, revealing a room that made my breath catch. The adult playroom was a sanctuary of controlled decadence. Black velvet drapes framed the walls, and soft, dim lighting cast a warm glow over an array of equipment: a sturdy St. Andrew’s cross, a padded bench with leather cuffs, a set of silk ropes coiled neatly in a corner, and a variety of implements, floggers, paddles, a riding crop, and a sleek, black silicone gag.

A bookshelf lined on the wall with a few paintings hung crookedly. My eyes dropped to a hallway with two doors. One was slightly open. I pushed it wider, revealing a study. Large oak desk. Floor to ceiling bookshelves… I walked further inside, my eyes drifting across the desk. “What the hell?” I gasped. Sitting on the corner of the desk was the ugliest toy I had ever seen. It looked like someone had attempted to combine a rabbit and a demon and the result was horrifying. One eye was really bigger than the other… It's smile was not even something to talk about.

I really am starting to feel like an old lady that only knows how to sigh all day long. I did a warm-up before finally deciding to go to bed after washing my hair and body thoroughly. As an introverted person, I was still very keen on cleanliness; I hated dirtiness the most. Even the second sequel to Beauty Kills the Doll had me twitching my lips in disgust because my favorite doll was covered with dirt. It was such an infuriating thing. But what can I do? They were acting and the doll was not even real, so they treated the doll like shit.

Darius carried the box to the table. Then carefully peeled back the tape. No sounds. No movement. Just an ordinary cardboard box. He lifted the lid. And within seconds, his entire expression changed. Aurora immediately stood. "What is it?" Darius didn't answer. He simply stared at the contents. Aurora walked over. Then froze. Inside the box was a doll. But not an ordinary doll. Its face was stained and worn. Its eyes were different sizes. One side looked as though it had been deliberately damaged.

Nyla’s POV I'm drawing a pentagram on my apartment floor with sidewalk chalk at midnight on a Tuesday because apparently this is what my life has come to. There’s a leather-bound book open beside me, old, as if it survived the Victorian era. I found it at an estate sale last weekend, buried under a box of porcelain cats, which feels like the universe burying a loaded gun inside a Build-A-Bear. It was quite an… interetsing book. The chapter I keep returning to shows a naked woman arched on her back on the floor, with a demon-man like being, with extra limbs, and an abnormally huge-sized cock burried inside her pussy.