The Dollhouse Society Ultimate Boxset: 21 Books & 5 Shorts in the Dollhouse Society Series

by Eden Myles

  I’d started seeing Dmitri, a high-end sex therapist, right after Brent cheated on me for the first—but not the last—time, and then all through our messy divorce. It had started out as a way for me to channel my anger, but slowly, inch by inch, Dmitri had been able to excavate through the layers of emotional armor I’d developed over the years to the underlying problem. I still harbored a great deal of pain and anxiety from my attack when I was thirteen years old, I was a chronic control freak, I was terrified of being vulnerable, and I used sex to build walls around myself rather than tearing them down and letting someone in. At least, that was Dmitri’s assessment.

  Dmitri was a good therapist and he and I were old friends. We’d even had a one-night stand, once upon a time, though it had ended badly. Neither of us could decide who should be on top. After quite a bit of fumbling around, we’d decided instead to go out and get some New York cheesecake. These days, Dmitri was engaged to a lovely young woman I had unfortunately never had the pleasure of meeting. I was still single, but we had remained in touch over the years.

  Unlike my other friends, Dmitri knew all about the Dollhouse Society, but he certainly wasn’t about to judge me. He himself was a major shareholder in a massive sex club franchise called Surrender, Inc. It made talking to him about things like Robert that much easier for me.

  “Robert’s simply lovely. We’ve been together two weeks now and he’s shaping up to be a very obedient courtier.”

  “But just that?”

  I sipped my tea and said, “What do you mean?”

  Dmitri studied his notes, which he kept professionally angled away from me, before looking up and pointing his ballpoint pen at me. “You’re an interesting patient as well as an interesting friend, Margo. A true dominant. Not because of circumstance, but simply because this is how you’re put together. Yet, despite all your confidence, you still distance yourself from romantic entanglements. Thus, when you speak of Robert, he’s always ‘your courtier,’ and not ‘your lover.’”

  I thought about his words. “You mean that even if I hadn’t sustained an attack, I would have turned out this way?”

  “I’ve always thought that, yes. Some people are born dominant, and some submissive.”

  “There are switchers,” I argued.

  Dmitri tsked. “Switchers are just dominants in denial.” This was an old argument of Dmitri’s, but a subject he felt very passionate about. “However, you’re avoiding the source of the problem. As usual. Let me ask a different question. What do you hope to gain from your relationship with Robert?”

  “A courtier, of course.” I folded my arms under my breasts. “I thought that was pretty obvious.” Few people could really irritate me the way Dmitri could, probably because we were so much alike. Two doms butting heads. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I frequently felt like I was arguing with myself, and I didn’t like myself all that much.

  Dmitri made more notes. “But what’s your ultimate goal, Margo? Do you seek a real relationship? Or do you aspire to rise in the ranks of the Dollhouse?”

  “There are no ranks in the Dollhouse. You’ve talked to Malcolm. You know that,” I said drily, and watched Dmitri’s eyebrow quirk up. I had long ago suspected that the Society and Surrender, Inc. were engaged in a kind of friendly rivalry in this city—the Society which was old, practically archaic, and working furiously to catch up to the new millennium, and Surrender, Inc., a newer establishment designed by a group of younger, more open-minded, individuals. If I hadn’t met Malcolm first, I might even have let Dmitri persuade me to join his exclusive sex resort.

  “Still, you’re an extremely competitive woman,” he continued on. “Not unlike Malcolm…”

  “Now, now, don’t go dumping on Malcolm,” I chastised my old friend. Once a month, Malcolm, Dmitri and their assorted friends met on the green and crossed golf clubs like the fierce alpha males they were. I wasn’t much of a golfer myself, and from all accounts, neither was Dmitri.

  My therapist frowned. “Still, I have to admit his using you to forward more liberal views in the Society is somewhat discomforting.” He wasn’t using his therapist voice now; he was using his friend voice. “I care about you, Margo. I don’t want to see you hurt, especially with you being so vulnerable at the moment.”

  I smiled at his concern. “I’m fully aware of the role I play in Malcolm’s determination to literate the Society from its more…outdated viewpoints. That’s not the reason I’m here, Dmitri.”

  “Why are you here?” he asked in a softer voice, leaning forward.

  “I’m having the dreams again. The bad ones.”

  “Ah.” He made more notes, his face professionally blank. “Do you want to discuss them?”

  “They’re not very specific, and no different from the ones I was having during the divorce. I’m usually looking for someone I can’t find, or trying to save someone I can’t save. I keep waking up angry about that.” I took a deep breath before continuing. In my darker dreams, I was always looking for a lost child or pet, something that was suffering and needing me. It left me feeling painfully vulnerable in the morning, a failure, though Dmitri always told me such dreams were perfectly normal, especially for people like myself, who found themselves in a position of power. “I don’t want to drag my anger into work. I’m having enough issues there without that.”

  “What kind of issues, specifically?”

  Over the remainder of my visit, I mentioned the missing funds, and the fact that we had had to bring in auditors and computer analysts to look over our whole financial system. I admitted it was keeping me up at night. We discussed his theories about doms and subs, and we wrapped things up with some light Dollhouse/Surrender, Inc. crossover gossip. Dmitri always managed to make me feel comfortable somehow.

  He made a few more notes before standing up and flashing me a friendly smile as my hour came to an end. He kissed my knuckles before I left and told me, “I wouldn’t worry too much, Margo. You’ll figure everything out.”

  That was another big philosophy of Dmitri’s—that he couldn’t give me the answer, only I could. His job was merely to guide me toward that.

  “You always say that,” I laughed.

  “I’m always right, aren’t I?” he laughed back. “Now go enjoy that courtier of yours.”

  ***

  By the end of the following week, we still didn’t have any leads on the missing funds, but I was trying not to let that bother me too much. We could only do what we could do. A new account with a company that was a subdivision of Disney Studios lifted my spirits and boosted our activity…and our finances. That made me feel world’s better. And being with Robert was a more than welcomed distraction.

  For the past two weeks, we had been meeting after work for dinner before going back to my apartment. There were days when Robert was my courtier and there were days when he was my friend and lover. I thought Dmitri would be proud of me.

  On Friday, our accountant Adam finally had a breakthrough and I wasted no time couriering the information to Robert’s office and setting the file down on his desk amidst the storm of papers and ledgers there. The find had put me in a good mood, and I settled on the edge and looked him over, trying to decide if he was courtier or lover to me tonight.

  “What do you have for me there, my pet?” he asked, perusing it overtop his reading glasses.

  “The answer to our prayers. Adam found an offshore account where those missing funds were channeled into. Now it’s only a matter of time before we’re able to track the paper trail back to its source. Or, in this case, the computer trail.”

  He spread his fingers overtop the file. “This is very good news,” he said, looking up. His eyes roved over me, at the way my dark pinstripe business suit clung to my curves. He touched me with his eyes the way he touched me with his hands and lips in the dark of my bedroom. His look immediately made me horny, like a butterfly touch over my whole body. “We should celebrate.”

  “We should,” I agreed, my voice growling so
ftly. “Robert, come service your lady.”

  His silvery eyebrows bobbed up. “Now? Jesus, Margo, my secretary could come in any moment and the door isn’t locked.”

  “Robert,” I said with a warning edge to my voice. Last night he hadn’t immediately obeyed me when I ordered him onto the bed and I had introduced him to my favorite martinet as a consequence. I was fairly surprised he could sit down today.

  He smiled then and took my hand to kiss my knuckles. “Yes, milady.”

  I braced my hands on the edges of Robert’s desk as he came up behind me and embraced me, palming my breasts and pulling me tight against the hardness of his body and the pressure of his quickly growing erection. He buried his face in the side of my neck, breathing in my scent and nuzzling against my ear. “What does milady prefer today?”

  I told him as he kissed and nibbled along the slope of my neck. He touched me gently at first, going slow as he undid first my jacket and then my blouse so they both hung open, obediently listening for his instructions. He finally unhooked my push-up bra and then my breasts filled both his hands. He weighed them, squeezing my firm round globes, his thumb and forefingers pinching and teasing the nipples to hard beads until I gasped and drenched my panties. I rubbed my ass against him, against his incredible hardness, and he took his cue and slid his hands down my sides until he’d reached the hem of my short skirt. He pushed the fabric up my legs until it had bunched like a wreath around my waist.

  Under my skirt, I wore only my black satin panties and pull-up stockings. I watched over one shoulder as Robert sank to his knees behind me and slid my panties down my legs. He gently cupped and massaged my ass cheeks before parting them. He nuzzled me there, his tongue tracing my seam. He flicked his tongue over my ass before finding my cunt. The moment he did, he was like some hungry beast. He sank his fingers deep into the firm flesh of my ass as he sought the wetness between my legs. I rocked against his mouth as his tongue found my quickly swelling clit, took it into his mouth, tugged on it. His teeth scraped me and I swore violently under my breath and said, “Slow down, Robert. I want to enjoy your service.”

  He grunted and slowed down at my command, but only a little, lapping at my cunt juices, sucking at the folds of my labia. His fingers peeled back the layers there like the petals of a wet morning flower, and soon his tongue was deep inside me. He fucked me there with his tongue and I wound up biting the side of my hand to keep from screaming aloud.

  I moaned as he sought out all my pleasure centers, wetting me back to front. A pleasurable aura of euphoria spread out from the places where he touched me, teased the juices from me. This time, when he sucked my clit between his teeth, he slowed down, gnawing on me gently, his thumb brushing a circle of fire around my ass, his thumb pressing inward briefly so I bucked under his ministrations and came hard, right in his mouth.

  “Does that please milday?” he whispered as he found his feet. His voice was hoarse with his own bottled-up need.

  “Milday is very pleased,” I told him. I took his hand and dragged his arm around me, sucking on his fingers. “Fuck me now, Robert. Sink that beautiful cock inside me and make me come.”

  He obeyed, undoing his trousers so he could press the warm naked pressure of his hard-on against my ass. The curve of it fit beautifully between my legs like it was made for me. He gripped my hip with his free hand and rubbed it against me, dry humping me a few times like an animal in full rut before the head of him parted my folds. I was as tall as he was; we fit exactly together. He teased inside me a moment, nuzzling against the back of my neck, before lunging and burying all lovely eight inches of himself inside my wet heat.

  I bucked my hips to urge him on, told him what a good boy he was. He hugged me against him, molding his body against mine. There was something incredibly erotic about that, about just being held that way, immobile against him as he moved inside me in a series of long even strokes, going slow at first, but then faster and faster. I arched against him, closed my eyes, and thought, We belong to each other. We were made for each other.

  The idea thrilled and embarrassed me.

  Soon my belly muscles contracted, and as he started to pound me, really pound me the way I liked it, the wet, slapping sounds made me mewl in satisfaction. I felt a clitoral orgasm seize me and send out tremors like a shockwave through all my limbs. I gripped the desk tighter as my legs weakened and began to shake. The force of it made me tremble and growl through my teeth as I convulsed against him. I dug my fingernails into the wood and ground my pelvis back against Robert as we fucked like crazy. Seconds later, I came, and I brought him with me.

  He pumped into me a few times before coming with a lunge and a deep-throated grunt. “Oh, Margo,” he moaned, forgetting himself as he held me against him for a long moment, his cheek lying softly against my hair. I knew I would need to punish him for that. The riding crop tonight, perhaps. He pulled out and his come gushed down the insides of my legs.

  I rubbed myself against him. “Now you’ll need to clean that up,” I said.

  ***

  “Ms. Faulker,” may I speak to you for a moment?” Adam said as I passed his workstation on my way to taking a deposition from a CGI animator who was trying to lay claim to part of the profits from a recent Disney release.

  I checked my watch and said, “Can it wait until after lunch, Adam?”

  Adam stood there, a shaggy punk-style guy whose beanpole body never seemed to fit in his suits right. He always looked like he’d be happier wearing a concert T-shirt and ripped-up blue jeans. He had a terrible case of bed head this morning and a pencil stuck behind one ear. But since he was our tech guy, and damned good at what he did—not to mention a sweet guy all around—I never complained too much. You see, I really can put my Attila the Hun complex in the closet when I need to.

  When I saw his eyes, I knew this was serious business. My secretary headed toward me, probably intending to give me a head’s up on the other lawyer, but I stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and said, “Can you buy me five minutes, Lydia?”

  Lydia, who was a nicely manicured blonde who probably deserved sainthood for putting up with me for the past two years now, shook her head and said, “Sure thing, Ms. Faulker.”

  Unlike Robert, I had never gotten too chummy with her, or anyone at the office, and I wouldn’t allow anyone other than Robert himself to address me as Margo. I knew it would be far too easy to be reduced to “one of the girls in the office” that way, and I wasn’t “one of the girls.” I was head partner at Burkett Associates.

  After Lydia went off to buy me time, I walked over to Adam’s workstation and said in a low, conspiratorial whisper, “What did you find?”

  He gave me a troubled look from under his shaggy hair, but as his eyes started floating across the office, I said, “Eyes over here, and I want to know what’s going on right now, Adam.”

  His eyes snapped back around and he whispered, “I traced that ISP back to its source, Ms. Faulkner.” He didn’t go into details in case anyone was eavesdropping, but we both knew what he was talking about. “It came from a townhouse on the corner of Lexington Avenue.”

  I felt my heart beat a little faster. He passed me a computer printout with the address written on it. Robert’s address. The funds had been channeled from his computer. I crunched the paper in my fist and gave Adam a steely look. “Tell no one about this.”

  ***

  Later that same day, I caught up with Robert as he was coming back from court and asked if we might make something of a business date of tonight and spend it working on my deposition. The Copyright trial was coming up in just a few weeks, the big one with Disney—one of the biggest trials of my life—and I wanted to bounce some ideas off of him.

  He walked with me to his office and said, “I have some transcriptions from old trials you might find interesting. But it’s a lot of paperwork, and most of its in storage at home. But I’d be happy to bring some of it round to your place tonight.”

  “Why don�
�t we go to your place tonight?” I sat down on the edge of his desk and crossed my legs. I watched him looking me over while trying to remain a gentleman. “I have this idea, Robert. How would you like to top me tonight?”

  He couldn’t hide his interest as he set his briefcase down on his chair. “I’m not sure if I understand you correctly.”

  I’d given this a lot of thought over the last few hours. I knew it was sneaky, that I was being manipulative, but I had to learn the truth. I had to learn if Robert was involved in this missing funds issue. If he was, I knew I would find evidence of it at his home. “I go home with you tonight and you get to do anything you want to me,” I explained.

  Robert nearly forgot to move his briefcase and almost sat down on top of it, he was so distracted. When he was finally settled behind his desk, I sat down in his lap and slid my hand up his lapel. “Are you serious, Margo?”

  “How do you feel about that?” I asked, whispering the words against his lips. “How would you like to top me? Use me? Tell me the truth, Robert.”

  His hand moved to my thigh, gripping it possessively even as his eyes glided up and down me. He smiled in a hungry way I almost didn’t recognized. “Are you certain about this, Margo? Because I’ve developed a rather fertile imagination of late.”

  ***

  We finished discussing the case over dinner at a new bistro in lower Manhattan that we had both been eager to try out. The food was subpar at best, and I was starting to feel anxious again. My stomach kept cramping up at the idea that Robert might be guilty and I had to all but force myself to eat. If I managed to discover something tonight, something damning, I was going to be faced with an almost impossible dilemma—either confront Robert, or turn him over to the police for questioning. I wanted to do neither. I wanted this whole thing to just go away.