Chapters Dollhood: A Woman's Choice Book 2 Chapter 21
The next morning I woke up earlier than my maid. By then I was quite used to the several-second delay my body gave me before my eyes opened wide, and thankfully the lace curtains were drawn in my room, diffusing the morning light so I could adjust. I felt slightly parched as my tongue flexed against the fleur-de-bouche’s inflated ball pinning it in place, my mouth’s altered lubricant sticky and sour, a tad dehydrated. I was eager for breakfast and my special water, well-used to its delivery method by now. But I must’ve woken up quite early, as I couldn’t even hear the staff in the halls yet.
Not that I could check the time. My eyes were trained on the plaster ceiling, immobile as always. I counted the seconds, I remembered nursery songs, every line, I tried to remember Nanny’s version of the Perfect Flower word-for-word. Anything to avoid thinking of my time with Mr. Collins in the garden the day before.
I tried to stretch the sleep from my legs, but after Althea’s dance in the dark during Christmas break there had been stricter measures put in place. Ever since our arrival home from Great Ormond Street Hospital, Chas and I had worn a thin sleeping sack from the waist down, made of much the same sheer material as our hosiery in the daytime. This kept my legs tightly bound together whilst thankfully not making me overheat in the night. I couldn’t tell Father that it was unrealistic to imagine me rising from the bed of my own volition anymore, never mind turning a simple doorknob, but then again I doubt he would’ve listened if I could.
On top of me, a thin sheet had been laid out and zippered in place somewhere over the edge of the mattress, but the sheet was stretched so tightly that I was pressed into the ultra-soft twin mattress, unable to manage much more than a pathetic squirm. A normal summer duvet in floral print was laid over that, making a landscape of my breasts and curves, hiding how bound we truly were below the covers.
This left me as I was now, swaddled and trapped, wishing I had even the puffy nappies of yore to fill the gap between my thighs and press against the yearning emptiness between.
Emptiness.
Incompletion.
An utter lack.
Reader, assuming you are not a Doll yourself being read this memoir by your owner, you can’t understand the latent desire in the back of my mind, ever-present, quietly seeping into the foreground whenever I was left alone like this. I couldn’t shake it on my own, my mind must’ve been weak like Sir Wainwright had said.
At this point my theory that my desperation was just due to natural teen hormones and my new skin was almost completely disproved. Doctor Eaton and his team must have weakened my resolve further, making me even more flawed than Eve, tampering not just with my body but with my mind.
I knew consciously I hadn’t wanted to enjoy Mr. Collins’ advance the previous day, I didn’t want to desire his manhood in me now, and to a lesser degree I didn’t even want to desire John yet, nice as he was; but I was trapped in this body with this obsessive hysteria, and oh how I wanted them deeply. I can see how a happier Doll like my sister Chastity would think this wanton desire to be normal, or a simple result of our education, and embrace it wholly as a natural reaction, but my doubt was persistent. Why couldn’t John just fuck the doubt out of me already?
Surprisingly enough, in a sense, my prayers were about to be answered.
It took some time but the house began to whir softly as Father’s fleet of autoservants began the day. Our maids entered, patted our cheek three times, and then began to unfasten all that kept us safely cocooned in bed. Once we were up, though, we were not led naked to the toilette but instead covered in simple chemise nightgowns, so fine they were nearly transparent, and led down the hall to Father’s bedroom. Butterflies filled my tummy, along with my unreleased bowel contents that were beginning to give me cramps. We had not been inside the master bedroom since we were young girls, keen to run around the house, hiding in wardrobes amongst implements of our future restraint, or waking our parents for Christmas or Easter morning. Inside we found Father dressing for work, sorting through his cufflinks, but I could hardly concentrate on him with the scene laid out on his massive bed in the centre of the room.
Within the rich wooden bed frame, the headboard split in two and united by a complex framework of metal in the shape of a woman, was a woman. Or parts of one. She was covered in what looked like a plush quilted silk, head to toe — or head to thigh stumps, I should say — more like a form-fitting cover than an article of clothing, save for her bare ass that shone bright against the royal blues of the silk. Over this cover was the metal lattice, holding her tightly, the centrepiece in the room’s dominant piece of furniture like a gemstone set into a ring. This backside was towards me so I could not see Cuddles’ face, but from the hemming and tightness of the fabric it looked as though her entire head was encased anyways. Beyond the headboard laid Mother, Cushions, left haphazardly on her side facing away from us but completely naked on a sea of the same royal blue silk. The deep shock I felt was not seeing my mother’s naked form, though; it was that her head rested not on pillows but on one of the overflowing mammaries of my best friend! Indeed they were the only other part of her that was uncovered, leaving no doubt in my mind what Father prioritised on his companion toy.
My face couldn’t cast even a shadow of my internal shock, so Father didn’t think twice about the hedonistic scene behind him. “Oh my darlings, good morning! I have the most splendid news and even though I’m in a rush to work, it really couldn’t wait until this evening, so I told your maids to bring you here as soon as you were up! See, Jack Collins and I have come to an arrangement, and your engagement has been set!”
Chastity began to click her heel and bounce slightly in muted celebration, the first sign of life I had seen from her since before our graduation, and Father just laughed, “Yes my dear, it is marvellous, is it not? You’ll be wedding Jack in two weeks’ time!” and her bouncing stopped.
He looked at me. “And you, my troublesome princess, will be marrying John on the same day, shortly after, and may I say the young lad is smitten! See what the joys of Dollhood can bring, girls?”
Then, to my complete surprise, Chastity seemed to just… break.
She minced backwards in shock before she stamped and hollered, and I say ‘hollered’ only because we could practically hear the unquavered air rushing through her neck like a geyser. Father was appalled, but even with his mouth hanging open in surprise, he gestured for the maid to not intervene this time, to let her tire herself out. Together, him and I watched Chastity’s fit as she stomped weakly and then pointed with her knees to Mother and the degenerate bed arrangement, the tantrum inside her head resulting in naught more than stumbling out here where we could see, as her face still silently begged for use and her breasts jostled wildly, unrestrained above her bustless night stays. She didn’t care. My perfect sister couldn’t give a damn. Althea and I had expressed our displeasure at times over the last several weeks at home, but not Chastity, never her. This was our mother’s hot fury from our departure day, reborn in her daughter, whilst the husk of her lay awake but unresponsive on the bed. It was that complete inactivity whilst her daughter raged at the unfairness of life that later convinced me that our mother was not truly ‘home’ anymore; but I wasn’t joining in either, could I say the same for myself? There was no way to ever tell with us Dolls.
Chastity wandered dejectedly over to Father, her shaking diaphragm the only outward sign of what would’ve been body-wracking sobs, and she crashed into him, begging for embrace. I should’ve known my sister hadn’t been blind all this time. She had conducted herself with complete discipline so that this very result wouldn’t happen, because she knew exactly what kind of man Jack Collins was. She had idealised our patriarch, thought he would give her a choice. But how had she not seen the signs? Jack had obviously fancied her from early on, and of course John had reserved a choice, maybe she had believed my future husband would save her. We couldn’t know, but she obviously despised the man she was to be sold to in but a fortnight.
Father embraced Chas tightly as she cried silently, and we stood there for a while waiting for her to calm, but before long his face hardened, and he uttered, “Enough.” and let her stand alone. No tears stained her face, indeed one would’ve never known her distress but for her ragged breathing and a deep blush that made her cheeks glow.
“I expected better from you, Chastity, I really did. That outburst was not befitting a young lady hearing such joyous news, never mind a Doll. Do you know what you achieved with that tirade, little lady? Nothing. Nothing except a double dose of capsaicin in your breakfast to remind you of your immodesty for the rest of the day and a spanking tonight with the paddle to give you sweet dreams of improving your attitude.”
My sister’s quivering legs collapsed and she fell to the floor, rocking back and forth, begging something unheard at his feet.
“Did you think I would call off this engagement with one little tantrum, darling? If your mother had given me a son, perhaps we would be selecting suitors for the bulge in their trousers and their serenading skills, but no: I need to entrust my fortune to a capable steward who won’t squander it before one of you bears a grandson to inherit my estate. So you both will marry the Collins men, and you will serve them dutifully.” As I was standing the closest to him, Father caressed my cheek, admiring my pouting lips. “I know you will.”
He turned. “Chastity, leave us, you’ve ruined the moment and you won’t receive your engagement gift until I see you’ve fallen back in form.”
But Chas refused to respond, sitting on the floor much as I had been left in the garden just the day before, and it took both her maid and mine to lift her and drag her uncooperative legs back to our room to prepare for the day.
This left me alone with Father, who changed his shirt for one less smeared with makeup and drool before guiding me to his study downstairs. I was still wearing nothing but my night stays and a satin nightgown that cascaded over my perky nipples to brush against my thighs, but he had seen me like this many times since my enhancements, so I wasn’t worried about how scantily clad I was next to him. No, any concern I had there was overshadowed by my curiosity about what John had gotten me as an engagement gift. I was already a Doll, so rings were unfashionable with nowhere to wear them, though he might not know that. I didn’t learn about Emily’s nipple-teasing wedding rings until reading her tale years later, hidden as they were in her bust. Pieces of clothing and mouthwear were also deemed a low-effort gift, as such things would be expected from a husband for the entirety of a Doll’s life.
Once we were in the study though, behind closed doors, I realised I would be following in the footsteps of a Lady of Leisure. Father presented me with a rich cherrywood box inlaid with an abalone ‘Hope,’ and being quite unable to open it, he did so, revealing a very realistic white phallus set upon a bed of velvet.
“It’s ivory. Very dense and heavy, silky smooth, and getting more valuable everyday with the wildlife reports coming in from the Raj and the dark continent these days. Your new husband had many reservations about this gift, but Jack and I insisted, for it’s the customary gift of a Leisurely engagement, and what is a Doll but a Lady’s essence purified? You learned that line in school, I’m sure. Anyways, he didn’t enjoy the casting one bit either, even though to my recollection getting one made for your mother was quite fun back in the day. Here, it seems it’s just us now, with your sister so demanding, so I’ll help.”
And so he bent me over his desk until my breasts were smushed under me, and lifted my nightgown up to reveal my curvy behind to the empty room. Dame Henderson had mentioned something about these gifts but that felt like ages ago, and Father was uncharacteristically silent, and then (ah!) I felt him rub the tip of the ivory cock down my lower lips. I couldn’t believe this was truly happening! Simultaneously I was wondering why he couldn’t just wait for my maid, and why he couldn’t just thrust it into me with every ounce of strength he had in him. Why was he teasing me so?
“Oh wait, I forgot new Dolls don’t need extra lubrication back there anymore. Apologies, darling, I’m used to your mother.”
And then the feeling was gone, before he inserted it with little resistance into my equally-inviting anus.
“Nooooo!! Not there!” I wanted to scream, but instead I just stared at the lacquered desktop pressed against my nose, and tried not to stamp my feet in frustration. To see the object in my periphery had been one thing, but to feel it embedded in me, splitting me in twain was quite another. Was John truly this big? The tip didn’t quite make it all the way up to the valve that my toilette attached to, but it was girthier than that routine device, without a doubt. I worried I would have never been able to take this much before I was a Doll, and the good girl in me thanked God for that blessing.
Why couldn’t he just put it in my— wait, what’s that vibration? Oh it stopped. Oh there it is again!
“There, dirty deed done. You’ll want to mind that your new companion doesn’t slip out when you’re without your understrap, dear. You’ll have to walk carefully until you get your proper stays on that can hold it in. Oh I can hear it working already. Well… I shouldn’t phrase it quite that way, that’s not the gift, dear, that’s you.”
What?! He pulled me back up to standing so I could look at him, or at his chest, out of focus, but close enough.
“The same instinct that recognises your mealtime decanter in your mouth recognises this gift in your behind, and so too will recognise John’s member when he finally makes you his wife. But there is something about this gift; and apologies, dear, they’re designed by Dr. Eaton himself, and that science is well beyond your bean-counter old man, but somehow your body knows that this isn’t the real package, so your arse doesn’t endlessly try to milk semen from a stone, so-to-speak. But it doesn’t quell itself entirely either. What you’re left with is this little reminder of your new fiancé, isn’t that lovely?”
I felt it again, and sure enough, there were the same rolling muscle contractions in my behind as in my throat at breakfast, accompanied by a similarly autonomous vibration, felt strongly through my vaginal wall, and a little, just a little bit of that vibration made its way to my clitoris without diffusing through my hips.
Oh the goddamn teasing wouldn’t end!
“Speaking of John, it seems he has fallen for you, or as much as one can in such short time, and I know that you have broken proper form around him too, for it’s my job to know such things about my girls, but I’m not displeased…”
The vibrations started again and I tried to concentrate on what was being said. I felt full down there, yes, but empty where it really mattered. It wasn’t enough!
“Indeed I’m happy, because for once you broke form for exactly the right reasons! I’m sure you know as well as I that he would have never been happy with Chastity. Or perhaps not with your sister as she was behaving before her ungrateful outburst this morning; now I’m not so sure. Anyways, he is far too conservative and prudish for his age, and for our innovative Society: I’m waiting for his old man to bring him ‘round. But you broke through his shell with your limited abilities, and I’m very proud of you, my dear.”
The stimulation stopped again, and every fibre in me contorted in need! All I had really heard was that I wasn’t in trouble, and that was good. The pulsing vibe started again and my toes pressed into the soles of my slippers. Don’t move, don’t move, Hope, he is happy and proud and not punishing you. I was dripping again, I knew I was, right down my inner thigh, right in front of my father. Would he notice? My nightgown was short and fluttered gently. The cool morning air was blowing past my glistening petals. I tried to move my hips just a little bit as I stood there in front of him, but he noticed and tut-tutted at me, wagging his finger.
“That’s very immodest, Hope.”
Was he serious?! The contradictions between his words and actions were driving me mad! I was nearly naked and standing with the facsimile of a young man’s raging member up my arse that he put there, and he was calling me immodest?! I autonomously swallowed some saliva and my arse contracted around the gift, another bout of short vibrations just barely tickling my emptiness.
“I know what you need, dear, and I understand it’s hard for you, but I’m also a God-fearing man and your Pappa. Do not try and seduce me, I will not give you that…”
I wasn’t— ew! No that’s not what I was trying to—
“…but don’t you worry, Chittenham and I have a plan for how to get John out of his shell so your wedding night is one to remember. So just you wait your final two weeks, and behave! You’re so very close, Hope. I love you, dear, and you know, even in marriage, you’ll always be my daughter.” He nodded toward my maid who had just opened the door, and gave me a pat on the behind, jostling the intruder and setting another storm of tic-like cramps and vibrations. “Now shoo and get ready for your day, I have to run to work.”
I can’t look backwards, my neck locked as it is, but I’m sure he watched my spread buttocks as I tried my best to saunter away toward my maid’s steady support without John’s gift falling out of my dilated behind.