Your Submissive Doll Novels & Stories

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."

Good girl. “On all fours, love.” She eagerly complied and got into position. Fuck, she looked so good like this. Her needy pussy was slightly swollen and soaked. Just the way that I liked her. “Goddess, love, you’re really fucking beautiful like this. My perfect little doll.” My hands rubbed over her ass and squeezed that perfect peach. I was an equal opportunist between her ass and her tits. They both drove me insane. “That’s right. I am your little doll to play with as you please. Let me be your dirty little sex doll, habibi,” she offered with a sensual and seductive voice, looking at me over her shoulder.

I collapsed fully this time, clutching at my heart as the realization hit me with brutal force. Mate. The Alpha’s mate. “No,” I whispered, terror choking the word. “Please… no.” Gasps rippled through the crowd. Fear. Shock. Disbelief. Alpha Kael stepped forward, towering over me. He crouched, fingers lifting my chin with a grip that was firm, possessive, inescapable. “So this is fate’s joke,” he murmured. “A submissive.” His thumb brushed my jaw, and my body reacted instantly, traitorous, humiliating. My wolf whimpered, bowing to his presence.

The pleasure is a tidal wave, and I am drowning in it! Suddenly, he reaches out with one large, heavily tattooed hand and he slides his rough fingers between my thighs, finding my swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing it with a wicked friction while he continues to fuck me from behind. "You like that, don't you..." he pants,and his fingers on my clit increase their pace. "I want you to cum on my cock, Little Doll..."

"What did you say?" I smiled and pressed my hand to his chest. Using the tip of my tail, I lifted his chin and exposed his vulnerable throat. I leaned in to examine him closely. "I said, I like you." There was no fear in Chad's eyes when he saw my nonhuman form. Instead, affection filled his eyes. "You like me?" he panted. "Why?" I bent down and peppered a trail of kisses on him. "A succubus doesn't need a reason to like someone. It's just attraction, instinct—a desire that surges the moment I see you.

One was tied hands and legs to a pole with her small ass out, while the other with a strap-on fucked her from behind. The second which was a little more interesting than the first, starred a woman who was the sub, and her three male doms. The sub was turned down, her legs and hands spread apart on two poles. Her fake, plastic boobs were on clamps and she had a red blindfold over her eyes which was the only piece of clothing on her body.

"You're submissive." Dante's footsteps halted, Nate hearing a long exhale from him. "Now that," he glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, "I am." He returned his gaze to the front door and shrugged his shoulders, lifting his hands as well, "I thought you'd be able to satisfy me after you screamed at me today and I adored when you threatened to kill me." He began walking forward again, "But you're useless to me. And you have to pay your debt for threatening to take my life, so—"

“Look at you. My perfect baby girl, naked and waiting for her Daddy exactly as she was told. So obedient. So ready to learn how Daddy really likes to fuck.” He opened the bag and pulled out several items: soft black rope, leather cuffs, a blindfold, and a thick leather belt. My heart raced faster at the sight. “From now on, sweetheart,” he said as he climbed onto the bed behind me, “when we are in this room, you are not just my daughter. You are my submissive little fucktoy. My personal cumslut. Daddy is going to show you exactly how he wants sex. Rough. Controlling. Deep. And you are going to take every single thing I give you. Understand?”

At the cabinet full of things I'd never seen before. I was a virgin. Twenty-three years old. The only sex I'd ever had was a blurry memory from high school graduation, the after-party, too much cheap vodka, a boy whose name I couldn't remember. I'd woken up the next morning with a headache and torn clothes and a vague sense that something had happened. I'd never been sure. I'd never wanted to be. But standing here, in this red room, with a man who called me Doll, I felt something I hadn't felt in years. A pull. A heat. A part of myself I'd locked away a long time ago.

Zariah always said dolls were misunderstood. People thought they were cute. Delicate. Passive. But to her, they were powerful. And tonight, she was ready to play. The Doll House stood behind a velvet curtain at the back of her apartment, a soundproof room bathed in low amber light. Walls lined with mirrored panels. Velvet chaise lounges. A wardrobe of corsets, lace gloves, and porcelain masks. Every detail designed for submission. And control. She opened the door, heels echoing on the dark hardwood.