What happens when you fall asleep without setting an alarm? You oversleep, obviously. You oversleep and completely fuck up your Doll’s training, because once Dolls get enough rest and a moment of free time, they start thinking, coming up with all kinds of stupid ideas about escape, as if I haven’t told them again and again that trying to run will only get them punished. Yet, despite my numerous warnings, they always try.
Some try to fight me, to catch me off guard. Others make a run for the door, as if they don’t see the keypad right next to it. When I later question them about what they hoped to achieve without knowing the code, they never have a logical answer. The smartest ones realize they can’t escape without my help, so theytry to win me over. They smile, nod, and play along, obeying every command and behaving perfectly in the hope that I’ll…what? Like them enough to let them go? That’s even stupider than trying the door.
I hate the last ones the most because I despise liars. There’s no place for deception between a Doll and their Master.
Naïve as I am, I thought this Doll might be different. Maybe she is, deep down, because her easy submission didn’t feel fake. Her smile from a few minutes ago? Completely fake. Well, maybe eighty percent. I still think a part of her craves submission and servitude, she’s just not willing to accept it, her logical mind telling her it’s wrong. It’s a shame, really. She’s perfect Doll material. If only she would embrace her calling. Her resistance matters not, though. I wasn’t joking when I said I’d break her and then put her back together. The right way, the way she’s supposed to be. My perfect Doll.
Except she won’t be mine. Fuck!
I bring the paddle down on her ass, careful not to strike too hard in my anger. It’s not her fault she can’t stay with me, and she shouldn’t pay for my anger, only for her wayward thoughts. As I strike her over and over, listening to her hoarse screams and sobs, I wonder what she will tell me once I start questioning her. What’s on her mind? She hates me, no doubt, but what else is she thinking? If I’m to break and reshape her, I need to know her mind—her thoughts, her hopes.
They all have them. Hopes. As if there was any hope in this basement. For any of us.
Pain isn’t the most efficient way to reach someone’s mind. The government uses a potent combination of drugs, torture, sleep deprivation, and clever mind games to get into the heads of their blacksite prisoners, but those things take time I don’t have, so pain it is. Against people with no torture resistance training, it’s efficient enough. Combined with comforting words,soft touches, and promises of relief, pain breaks every Doll. Well, except for that redhead, but she was the exception that proves the rule, and I don’t want to think about her when I have my pretty little Doll beautifully crying in agony, her cunt and asshole exposed.
It would only take a second for me to pull my cock out and bury myself inside of her, but I won’t. Men working for the Morozovs might find my self-imposed rules ridiculous, especially since they’re forbidden from touching the Dolls while I have free rein over them, but I know if I started fucking them, fuckingher, I’d lose an even bigger piece of myself upon their inevitable departure.
I can’t resist running my fingers between Doll’s ass cheeks, though. Her asshole is still nicely loosened from wearing the plug for so long, and I can’t wait to get back to training her again, but that will have to wait. Constantly having something in her ass is not good for Doll’s digestive tract, so I’ll give that area a few hours rest. It doesn’t mean I can’t take advantage of other holes she possesses. I’ll definitely have her work on her gag reflex later and her pussy…
I groan as I slide my fingers through the mess of juices coating her inner thighs and pussy lips. I know it’s just from the vibrator being inside her for hours, but wouldn’t it be nice if she were this wet because of me? I’m normally not one to fantasize, but I allow myself that fantasy.
As I slide two fingers inside her pussy, she whimpers and squeezes me. Fuck, she’s so tight. Practically a virgin. She’ll need some stretching here, too, or Franco’s goons will tear her apart when he finally grows tired of her and hands her over to them. The thought bothers me more than it should, even though I know it’s the usual life cycle of our product. After a while, the clients always get bored with the Dolls, so they usually hand them out to their inner circle to strengthen loyalties. Orentertain themselves by torturing the Doll to death. What a fucking waste. It shouldn’t be surprising, though. The Morozov syndicate only deals with idiots too blind to recognize the value of a devoted Doll even if it bit them in the ass. I, on the other hand…
No. Why am I doing this to myself? She should be the one in pain.
I rub her to remind her she still hasn’t had the release she’s been craving, nodding thoughtfully when a moan cuts through her whimpers. I crouch in front of her and caress her face. Even with her face red from crying and streaked with snot and tears, she’s beautiful. Perhaps even more beautiful than if she were all dolled up, because I was the one who made her this way.
She chokes on a sob as her wide eyes find me. “M-Master…”
“Shh,” I soothe. “I know, Doll, I know. Change is always painful, and you’re going through a big one. It’s going to hurt, but you will get through this. You want to make me proud, don’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
It’s not a lie. I’m not a mind-reader, but I recognize when a Doll is in the mind-space to lie. Right now, this Doll is as far away from it as they get, so I continue, “Good. Such a good Doll. You have so much potential, little one. Don’t let your mind stand in your way.” Holding her gaze, I reach for her nipples. Her tits are small, not enough to fill my hand, but her nipples are perky and, judging by her moan, very sensitive. “There. That feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, M-Master.”
With one hand cradling her head, I tug and twist her nipples with the other, pleased by how easily she relaxes into my touch. Even as my touch grows rougher and my fingers pinch her nipple hard, she only whimpers, her pleading eyes locked onmine. “Such a good Doll,” I repeat. “I’m here to help you; you know that, right? Tell me, Doll. What’s wrong?”
A person in their right mind would yell at me, but Doll isn’t a person, and she’s far from the right state of mind. Or rather she is, but in the right state of mind for a Doll, because she whispers, “I-I’m scared, Master.”
“Of course you are!” I kiss her cheek, tasting salt. “Of course you’re scared, Doll. It’s normal. Natural. Aside from being painful, change is also scary, but I’m here for you. I’ve got you, Doll. Now tell me, what were you thinking about when you woke up?” Her eyes dart to the side, so I squeeze her nipple harder to keep her attention on me. “Eyes on me, Doll. It’s okay. I’ve already punished you. That part’s over, we’re just talking now. Let me help you, please. You want to make me happy, don’t you?”
“I do,” she admits quietly. “I shouldn’t, though.”
“I’m your Master. Of course you should want to make me happy. That’s the right thing to do. Don’t you feel it deep down? You were born to serve, Doll, and you do it beautifully. What greater accomplishment is there than serving your Master?”
Her brows draw together as she tries to focus, but I don’t give her the opportunity. Letting go of her nipple, I take up the riding crop and bring its tip down on her. The angle is far from ideal, but I can’t release her from my gaze just yet. Doll cries out in a combination of pain and desire, her eyes never straying from mine.
“There. Doesn’t that feel good? You please me, Doll. You please me when you cry for me, and you please me when you get wet for me. Your obedience is the greatest gift a Master could ask for. Doesn’t it feel good to please your Master with something as natural as submission?” As I talk, I drag the crop over her clit.
“Y-yes… Please, Master…” The Doll moans and whimpers.
“See? Lean into your instincts, Doll. Your mind works against you. Don’t let it block your happiness. You like to serve, don’t you?”
“I do. I do, Master. Please…”
I smack her clit again before returning to the gentler teasing. “Not yet, Doll, not yet. First, tell me what you were thinking about when you woke up.” She hesitates, her eyes darting to the side again before being drawn back to mine. I help her out. “You were thinking about escape, right?” When she nods mutely, I shake my head. “See? That’s how your mind poisons you and destroys your happiness. Deep down, you don’t believe you deserve it, do you? You’re happy here, and your mind fears that, so it works to destroy that happiness. Trust me, Doll, I’ve seen it before, how content Dolls become once they accept their calling. I want that for you, too. Let me help you, please.”
