When Mikhail’s tongue brushes my lips, I open them on a breathy moan. He’s not slimy or disgusting as he flicks his tongue inside of my mouth, my own meeting his halfway. It’s… “Perfect,” I breathe out as we separate. Then I realize I haven’t brushed my teeth, and I’m the disgusting one here. “Oh god.” I slap a hand over my mouth.
Mikhail laughs but releases me. “I don’t mind a bit of morning breath, Doll, but if it makes you feel better…”
“Thank you, Master!” I call, already halfway out of bed. A few minutes of semi-privacy are exactly what I need right now.
Chapter 27
Mikhail
“You better not be thinking about using that brush,” I growl at Grace as I step into the bathroom. She’s standing in front of the mirror, smearing a lotion over her cheeks. I’m already irritated because I didn’t get to do that myself. If she’d brushed her hair, I’d get downright angry, and I don’t want to be angry with my Doll.
Despite my gruff words, Grace smiles at me through the mirror. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Master,” she sasses, and I love it. It will probably take a while to establish new boundaries, but I’m looking forward to the process and to having someone who actually smiles at me and talks to me.
My previous Dolls barely talked unless it was insults, threats, or begging before they were broken. After that, it was just “Yes,Master” all day around and while that had been the goal, it feels lackluster compared to my interactions with Grace. I’ve had many people down here, but Grace is the first who actually wants to be here, wants to be with me. It’s baffling, but warmth still spreads through my chest at the thought of her being mine. Forever.
I already have a plan. It’s dangerous and likely to fail, but that doesn’t matter because I won’t fail. How could I when I have such a prize to look forward to? The biggest downside of the plan is that I will actually have to hand my precious Doll over to her new Master. It’s the only way for her to leave the compound safely. I’ll have to put her in the box and gift wrap her like I would any other Doll, and I can’t even tell her the plan because if she tells someone or if I fail…
No. I won’t fail. She’s mine. It’s fate or some shit like that. Söme spiritual crap, like soulmates. Yeah. We’re soulmates, and nothing will keep us separated. Even if I die, I’ll crawl out of the freaking pits of hell just to be with her. I’ll take over the damned place if I have to.
Needing to soothe my raging thoughts, I grab the hairbrush. Used to the routine, Grace turns around, her eyes fluttering shut and a dreamy smile spreading on her face as I brush her hair. She’s so beautiful like this, like an angel that somehow fell into my filthy paws, and I’m not giving her back.
I take my time working out all the tangles from her hair before setting the brush aside and braiding her long strands into a complicated braid. Then I have her sit in front of the vanity and drag a second chair over for myself. Grace cocks an eyebrow when I apply foundation on her cheeks but doesn’t say anything, patiently letting me put makeup on her. I don’t use it myself, but I love to “doll up” my Dolls, so I daresay I’m pretty good at applying it.I go a little over the top with a full smokey-eye glam look, but I can’t help myself. I just love playing with her like this.
I wish I had clothes for her. Not because I want to cover her gorgeous body but because I want to spend hours dressing my Doll up in various outfits. That’s what dolls are for, isn’t it? And when they’re also pros at cock sucking and have a hungry cunt and a tight asshole for me to fuck? That just makes them perfect.
Grace dutifully stretches her lips as I swipe the lipstick over them, then smacks and rubs them together when I’m done. My cock stirs as I imagine these bright red lips wrapped around it. Fuck, that’s gonna look amazing. First though, I need my little Doll to see what I see every time I look at her. With hands on her shoulders, I make her face the mirror. Her eyes widen, her lips forming a perfect O as she stares at the mirror, even lifting her hand in a little wave as if convincing herself the reflection is really her.
“Wow…” she breathes out. “I’ve never…” Trailing off, she touches her lips.
When it becomes obvious that she’s at a loss for words, I step in. “You’re beautiful, Grace.” Grace. Not just a Doll. She’s still my Doll and always will be, but she’s also so much more now. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re all mine.”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she meets my gaze in the mirror. I expect her to demand answers and reassurance that I will keep her, that I won’t send her away, that she will be safe. She takes my breath away when she simply nods. She trusts me, and it’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever experienced. Well, aside from fucking her pussy. That’s unparalleled.
Turning, Grace looks up at me, her lips slightly parted. “Thank you, Master,” she whispers. Hesitantly, she reaches for me, her hands caressing my stubble. Her eyes flick to my mouth before she looks away, her cheeks heating as she asks, “May I kiss you, Mikhail?”
The question is quiet, a whisper rather than a demand, as if she hasn’t yet realized she can ask me anything and I’m powerlessto refuse her. Careful not to mess up her hair, I grab the back of her neck and press my mouth against hers. Grace immediately yields control, her lips parting for my tongue. She tastes of mint toothpaste and paradise.
Holding her naked body to mine, I take my time plundering her mouth before pulling away. Grace makes a whiny noise and tries to follow, but I tug on her braid. “Patience.” Feeling the lipstick on my lips, I shake my head, then playfully smack Grace’s ass. “Bad Doll. Look what you made me do. Now I’ll have to redo the lipstick.”
Grace starts to roll her eyes, then stops when my hand lands on her ass again. She patiently sits through another round of lipstick application before appreciatively looking herself over in the mirror again. I like that look on her a lot. “I’m no expert, Master,” she says, “but aren’t there, like, kiss-proof lipsticks? Why not get one of those?”
Because I never kiss the Dolls is my first thought, but that’s not true anymore, is it? “I like how it stains my cock when I fuck a Doll’s mouth,” I reply, squeezing Doll’s cheeks so that her lips pucker out. I don’t miss her pupils widening and the subtle way she clenches her thighs. Such a horny little thing. “We’ll test it eventually, don’t worry. Food first, though, and then we’ll play for a bit.”
I have so many ideas that aren’t strictly training-related, things I never tried with the other Dolls, and I’m excited to finally use them. After all, Grace only needs to be trained to please me now, and she’s already perfect at that, so I can enjoy the results. We’ll still do anal and the other training, but now that I know I’m keeping her forever, we have time for the more elaborate, ‘scenic’ stuff. But food first. She is still too skinny.
Grace pouts as I lead her to her spot in the kitchen, and I can hear her irritated sigh as she kneels on the pad. “Be good,” I tell her as I head for the counter, and even though my back is toher, I swear I know she’s rolling her eyes at me. Such a brat. It’s refreshing to have someone resist me for fun instead of clinging to the absurd notion of freedom. Dolls have no freedom, and I’m happy Grace has understood that since the beginning. I would have hated to use the more extreme methods to break her. A part of me still worries that now she’s rested and clear-headed, she might start thinking about escaping or tricking me again, but I’ve sensed no deception in her. To be honest, I don’t think my Doll has a deceptive bone in her body. She certainly is a terrible liar.
Her quiet voice brings me out of my thoughts as I chop vegetables for a quick omelette. “Master?” I glance over my shoulder to see Grace still at her spot, kneeling in perfect form just like she was instructed. She’s watching me curiously, and when I urge her to continue, she hesitates. “Could I help you? With the cooking, I mean.”
Instinct makes me hesitate, because her request is nothing new. Most Dolls offer to help in the kitchen just to get their hands on a knife or a pan of hot oil. I snort as I imagine Grace trying to stab me. Somehow I doubt she’d be capable of stabbing anyone, let alone me. “I can handle it,” I wave her off, mostly out of habit.
“I know you can, but I would still like to help. Please?”
Those eyes. God dammit. How can I say no to anything when she looks at me like that? “Fine. You better not cut yourself, though. Do you even know how to cook?”
Grace snorts. “Please. Mother taught me since I was a little girl because apparently, every woman needs to be able to cook for her husband.” She saunters over, so fucking beautiful that her next words take a few seconds to register. “Mason’s mostly a steak and roasted potatoes guy, though, so it’s not that difficult to please him.”
My knuckles whiten as my grip on the knife tightens. “Excuse me?” Did she just sayhusband?! Before I know it, I stab the knife into the butcher’s block and grab my Doll’s shoulders. “Who the fuck is Mason?!”
