Some time ago I decided to try my hand at writing smut. It’s based on a headspace I created for if I ever wanted to try slave play. I can’t handle being an object as a person…but as a doll, well that is very different. Because I’m a brat it turned out much different than I intended. But most writers know that characters often don’t do what they’re told. Please be gentle with me 😬
He was watching her where she knelt, like a perfect doll, at his feet. She couldn’t see his eyes, her’s being lowered to the ground, but she could feel his gaze as it raked over her skin. Hot and intense as an infernal blaze, he could do much with his eyes alone to have her folding at the knees. He rarely had to ask or command her to do so anymore, a quick cut of his eyes in her direction was usually enough.
When she had first knelt for him it had been a trial. Sore knees and an insatiable need to move often got her into trouble. He had painstakingly trained her, stripping away her humanity until she was the perfect doll who knelt before him now. Her wants were an irrelevant afterthought. What need have she of personal opinions? She existed to be used and displayed and found herself quite happy in her role as his doll…most of the time.
He rose from the chair and her wandering attention snapped back into focus. He was the center of her universe and every move he made affected her to her core. Each breath was his. Each beat of her heart.
His hand settled on her head and his touch, even after all this time sent sparks of pleasure through her nerves. But she showed no sign of the pleasure she felt except the slight blushing of her cheeks.
He tipped her head back, fingers sliding down the line of her jaw to the column of her throat. He moved behind her pulling her back into his legs in a smooth motion that had her head spinning. Her back arched into the motion almost to the point of pain. That pleased him apparently because he pulled a little more. She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her.
There was a pregnant pause as he seemed to consider whether to strike or show mercy. Her heart pounded in anticipation. He made a “tisk tisk” noise and released her, just roughly enough that she almost fell to the floor.
“Dolls are silent.” He says, taking a few steps away from her. The distance doesn’t make her feel any safer. “But perhaps you don’t want to be a doll today hmm?” His words are a slow dripping threat. A trap laid out for her to trip right into.
She opens her mouth to answer and he moves faster than she can register, pulling her head back with a harsh jerk with the handful of hair he grasped in his fingers.
“Is the little doll dissatisfied with its place? Does it think it has any right at all with which to express itself without my permission?” His tone is sneering, dripping with condescension that has her dripping down her thighs. He rarely breaks like this. He rarely shows his temper, and all it took was a gasp.
There is a moment as she is held there where she contemplates if it’s worth it to push him further. To take a break from being the perfect doll and see his claws and teeth bared for her. She looks him in the eyes, slowly and deliberately. A rule is broken and she sees how it lands, it lights a fire in his eyes she hasn’t seen in a long while. And deep inside her, she knows this was the right choice.
His retribution, when it comes, is a whirlwind. A slap she hears before she feels it.
“You little bitch” he snarls, nearly beside himself with fury. She moans as the pain blossoms across her cheek. It’s been so long since she’s been able to indulge. But each sound she makes winds him up further. Until she finds herself against the wall his fingers wrapped around her throat just tight enough to feel her head spin. She whimpers.
“So,” he says, voice so quiet suddenly that she can barely hear him past her racing heart. “The little doll wants to turn into a real girl?” It’s almost a snarl. She shudders as he kicks her legs apart forcing her onto her tiptoes to avoid strangling herself in his grip. He begins slowly opening his pants.
“We’ll wish granted sweetheart. Let’s see if the pussy of a real girl can satisfy me better than a doll.”
She almost screams as he pushes into her. There is no warning, just a brutal taking as he grins at her savagely. Her eyes roll back into her head. It’s so much that it has her legs shaking. “Sir please!” She begs. And she doesn’t even know what she’s begging for. Mercy or more brutality.
He takes the choice out of her hands and slaps her again before leaning in close. “Does the little slut like making me angry. Does it please her to have me abandon decorum to teach her a lesson?” She makes a mindless sound in response. She cannot possibly think enough to use words. She’s so close to cumming that her body is shaking with it.
He tightens his grip around her throat, growling as he nears his climax. He releases her suddenly and instead of shoving his cock into her mouth or giving her the privilege of cumming inside her he lets her drop to the ground and releases between her legs onto the floor. “Pathetic”
He grabs her hair again and drags her body around until her face hovers over the mess. “Lick it up but don’t swallow it” he orders. Tears run down her face as she does as she’s ordered. Her body thrummed with the denied orgasm. When she has licked it all up he pulls her to her knees. “Kneel there and you dare swallow.” He snarls.
“Look at you. What a fucking mess.” He says with a mocking laugh. “Is this what having a real girl gets me?” She kneels shaking and overwhelmed in ways she hasn’t experienced in far too long. Her body aches with the brutal reminder of her place.”You will stay there until you can remember to be a good doll again or you can stay there forever.” He walks away from her and she settles in for the long wait ahead of her. It had been worth it, she decides, to break out of her shell for just a moment. But she loves being his doll too much to even think of abandoning it. And like a perfect mask, she slips back into place. A toy. A doll on display. Thoughtless, existing only to be used.