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

by Eden Myles

  He leaned down, whispered, “Belle, I will never, ever hurt you.”

  “Yes,” I said. I knew he would not. Somehow, I knew.

  He bit my shoulder, heaved himself upward and slid home. I came again, immediately, almost painfully since it was my third orgasm and I was nearly dry, wrung out, but this little pain was magnificent and left me gasping and arching against him, trying to take him as deeply as I could.

  He pinned my upper body to the mattress and sexed me hard, and I knew it was only the fact that Damian had already stretched me that kept what he was doing from feeling uncomfortable. I still gasped at the sensation, my entire body rocking as he penetrated me, withdrew, filled me once more, his huge balls slapping against my ass as he drove himself, growling, ever deeper inside me. My eyes nearly rolled back in my head at the unbelievable sensation of being used so roughly, so completely, and I had to stifle a scream when he forced my head down, my cheek against the mattress, one of his fists tangling in my hair as he altered his angle, went deeper still, to the end of me.

  Damian chuckled from his position on the bed beside me. “I told you he was far worse than I. Belle and her beasts.”

  “Oh god,” was all I can manage as my body was assaulted by striking waves of almost painful pleasure. A few more thrusts and Dorian grew still, shivered all over as he came, then sighed with satisfaction into my hair.

  He pulled me up, against the front of his body, his cock still buried deep inside me, and just held me like some precious treasure, stroking my hair and down the front of my body, squeezing and plucking at my nipples, kissing all along my hairline and chin. “You’re fucking perfect for us, my little beauty,” he hoarsely whispered.

  “I told you she would be,” Damian added.

  I smiled, my heart happy and proud to have pleased my gentlemen so well.

  ***

  In the days that followed, it took me longer to finish my job at the Michaels mansion, but I didn’t mind so much. There were some wonderful perks.

  I tried to arrive a little earlier now, so I had time to go upstairs to the playroom and change. One of my orders as the Michaels’ new courtesan was to wear the cute little maid outfit I’d worn that first night at their dinner party, along with stockings and heels. Damian said the dress made me very sexy, very desirable, and I wanted to be that for my gentlemen. I pulled off my panties and pulled on long fishnet stockings and stepped into the three-inch Mary Jane pumps they kept ready for me. I checked myself in the full-length mirror and felt really beautiful for a change. After that, I went downstairs to do my duties for the afternoon.

  Little had changed there. I took an inventory of the household, then went to work vacuuming and dusting, clearing the fast food debris in the living room (if there was any), loading the dishwasher in the kitchen, answered the door and saw new patients in, and ran the dry cleaning the service left hanging in the foyer up the stairs to the Michaels’ bedrooms. The heels slowed me down, but I was getting used to them, and the looks I got from the Michaels brothers when they passed me in the halls was more than worth some achy feet at the end of the day.

  While I was taking one of Dorian’s tuxedos in its plastic bag up the stairs, I saw Veronica step out of the consultation room and into the hallway. “Belle!” she said, waving.

  I stopped and gave her a wide smile. “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Veronica. How are you feeling?”

  “Wonderful.” She looked very smart in her white suit, even if she was wearing “falsies” under it. “My surgery is planned for next week, so I’m very excited about that.” Her eyes crinkled in a smile. “And very grateful to you for being my ‘model’.”

  I blushed at that.

  She flicked a long, russet lock of hair off my forehead. “You’re so pretty. Have you ever considered being a model?”

  I laughed at that. “At my weight? No.”

  “Plus-sized models are all the rage, my dear.” She winked. “If you ever change your mind, you know who to come to.” She gave me her card and turned her svelte self toward the door.

  I was feeling very beautiful after talking to Ms. Veronica.

  I finished running Dorian’s clothes up, then came back down, frowning at the hallway runner, which always got the most traffic. I got out my trusty Dyson from the hall closet and went over it carefully, then decided to give the living room a sweep.

  With the vacuum running, I didn’t hear Dorian come in or take his place in one of the wing chairs by the hearth. As I was shutting off the Dyson and coiling the cord up, I noticed him out of the corner of my eye. He was sitting in the chair, his chin cradled on his fist, and enjoying the sight of my legs and bare ass cheeks that always wound up on display whenever I bent over in the tiny dress.

  “Sorry, sir, I didn’t see you there,” I said.

  “That’s because you work too hard.” He smirked to show he was teasing me.

  I smiled back. “I like the work.”

  “You do, don’t you, my dear? Don’t find it beneath you?”

  “I don’t believe any kind of honest work is beneath someone.”

  “True,” he agreed. “But I do hope you’ve set your sights on something bigger in the future. What’s your major, if I might ask?”

  “Business administration,” I told him.

  “And you’re graduating next year?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What are your plans?”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t decided.” The truth was, I was having difficulty thinking that far ahead. Ever since Clark, I had taken the philosophy of living one day at a time.

  He continued to look me over. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor.

  I knew what he wanted. Had another man made such a gesture, I would have told him to fuck off, but Dorian was my gentleman. I wanted to please him.

  I went to him and knelt down. I undid his trousers. His cock was huge and hard, and his balls swollen and tight against his groin. I bent my head and licked at the rigid, veiny underside of that beautiful cock, little licks that I graduated upward until I reached his crown. I squeezed and kneaded his balls in my hand. By then he was moaning and tangling his hands in my hair, and his cock was pulsing out a steady stream of precum. The sight of it made the wetness between my legs grow. I couldn’t believe that I had such control over this man, that I could wring such a reaction from him. It was very empowering. I licked up every drop before taking his huge, bulbous head in my mouth.

  “God, you’re fucking sexy, Belle,” he said. “And you always know exactly what I need.”

  I smiled around the thick, meaty organ in my mouth, happy to draw such an admission from such a normally stoic man.

  He nested his hands in my hair and pulled, guiding my head up and down over his cock until I felt the now-familiar contraction of his belly muscles that signaled that he was close to coming.

  “I want to see my come all over you,” he said, and pulled my hair, pulled me off his cock, and dragged me upward until I was straddling his lap and pressed against the hard muscle of his chest under his suit, his stiff cock sandwiched between us. He easily ripped the buttons open on the little maid’s dress and my breasts bounced out, the peaks stiff and strawberry red and as ready to serve him as the rest of me was. He cradled my breasts in his big hands, working the nipples harder still, worshipping them in a way that made me feel both proud and beautiful. His. I gasped and writhed at all the attention he was showing me.

  “Do you like that, Belle?” he asked in a scorching voice.

  “Oh yes. I love the way you touch me, sir,” I told him honestly.

  He squeezed my breasts together and lifted his hips, sliding his cock into the space between. He slid in and out, and it was only a matter of moments before he came, shooting his load between my globes so the stickiness poured down the front of my body. Then he seized my cheeks and kissed me, shamelessly rubbing his suit against my sticky breasts, rubbing his scent into my skin so I smelled like him, like his come and his
cologne.

  “Are you mine, Belle?”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered against his lips, breathing in the loamy, male scent of him.

  “Good girl,” he said, giving my right breast a friendly squeeze before dropping his hand to the wet, slick folds between my legs. “You’re always so beautifully wet and ready,” he said, hooking two fingers inside my body and making a come-hither gesture that stiffened my back and forced me to stifle a cry of pure pleasure.

  After only two weeks of being his courtesan, he knew my body so well, knew what got me off.

  I gripped his shoulders and arched upward. He hit me just right, with just enough force, sliding his fingers along my ribbed g-spot so my orgasm was powerful and immediate. My body clenched up around his fingers and my pelvis undulated with the shockwave of sudden release. I tilted my head back and cried out as I came for him, wetting his hand with my come, not that he seemed to mind.

  He was smirking at my reaction. He licked the wetness from his fingers before rebuttoning my dress. “I’ll let you go now, my dear. My brother wants to see you in the administration office.”

  When my breathing returned to normal and I found I could stand up straight again, I thanked him and took myself off to the office where I had first met the Michaels brothers.

  Damian was sitting behind the desk, frowning over the laptop where he was doing the business finances, a job I knew he hated. But as I stepped into the room, he said, “Desk, please, Belle.”

  Like with Dorian, after weeks of working for the Michaels brothers as their courtesan, I knew exactly what he wanted, what he liked. He was my gentleman; I wanted to please him. I thought at first I might find it demeaning to be used this way, but the brothers didn’t treat me that way. They were good lovers; they worried constantly about my satisfaction as well as their own.

  I walked to the desk and leaned over it, my hands splayed across the cluttered surface. Damian closed the laptop and stood up. He came around the desk, grabbed the back of my hair, held me down, and jerked the skirt of the maid’s dress up to the level of my waist so I was completely bare to his touch. I gasped at his rough handling of me. I wanted to move, to not move.

  His fingers, more callused than his brothers from playing bass for years in Suicide Kings, traced my seam, circled my ass, then plunged boldly into my cunt. I grunted at the impact, at the rough invasion of his touch. I had never met two men who took such control as Damian and Dorian Michaels did.

  My hips wanted to move against him and I desperately wanted him deeper still, but I worked at remaining still and awaiting orders. Neither Damian nor Dorian liked me taking too much initiative.

  “God, you’re wonderfully tight and wet. What has my brother been doing to you, Belle?”

  I didn’t answer. I sensed his was more of a rhetorical question. Despite their attempts to share me, they inevitably wound up competing in some ways. If Dorian made me come once, Damian insisted on making me come twice. If Dorian bought me pearls, Damian bought me diamonds.

  I gasped as he forced three, then four, fingers inside me.

  “I’m not hurting you?”

  “No, sir,” I answered honestly. “I like the feel of you inside me.”

  He unbelted his trousers and encircled my waist with his powerful forearm, forced his hard, dripping cock against my opening, teased apart my labia. I groaned and arched my back, my cheek resting against the surface of the desk. He shuttled his cock back and forth along my slick folds, not entering me yet, but close, making me shiver as he played my body like a well-tuned instrument.

  “Christ, Belle, I love the feel of you inside. You’re like heaven on earth.”

  “Thank you, sir…oh god!”

  He entered me a little ways before withdrawing. No matter how many times they took me, in whatever new way, it seemed I never got used to how big they were.

  “I’m working on a new song, Belle. I haven’t wanted to write in years, but with you, Belle…you make me want to do it again. You’re my muse in music the way you’re my brother’s muse in flesh.”

  I sighed at his admission. He kissed along the back of my neck, held me down, thrust into me fully, filled me.

  Just as we had discussed at the beginning of our association, we’d shared our medical records some weeks ago and had agreed to be exclusive. At my last OB-GYN appointment, I’d gotten an IUD implanted, so we wouldn’t need to worry about unwanted pregnancies or the need for condoms. We were protected and could be all to each other. My hips moved automatically, thrusting back against him to welcome him deeper still. His free hand went to my clit, and he ground the callused tip into it even as he pounded my ass.

  Since my sex was so sensitive from being recently used by Dorian, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he brought me. Damian thumped my ass with everything he had. He was much more vocal than his brother. As he took us both over the edge into release—my second of the evening—he shouted his release, held himself deep inside me, and drove his seed in a series of hot pulses deep inside me that left my legs shaking like gelatin.

  Damian held me against the desk to keep me from toppling to the floor and kissed all along the back of my neck. “My good girl,” he said, pulling out and yanking my skirt down over my dripping wet sex. He gave my ass a loving squeeze and added, “I needed that, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure serving you.”

  ***

  Myles finished talking about his emotional progress, how he had come to accept what had happened to him and was beginning to move on. As had become the ritual for our little support group, we finished the meeting with a group hug, then retired to the coffee machine for a cup of joe and the donuts that Lacy, one of the girls in our group, had brought.

  While I was munching on a chocolate-cream-filled donut, my favorite, Myles came up to me and said, “Thanks for sharing your story earlier, Iz. It really helped me think things through, you know?”

  “I’m glad,” I said, licking chocolate cream off my fingers. “I’m finding it’s a lot easier to talk about things these days.”

  “Me too.” His handsome face split in a wide grin and he said, “Would you like to hang out sometime? Catch a movie, maybe a bucket of chicken? My treat.”

  I’d half expected this would happen. The last few meetings, Myles was always talking to me, and sometimes he insisted on walking me through the darkened student parking lot to my car. In the beginning, I’d thought he was just being nice, but now I knew something was up.

  Before I’d met the Michaels brothers, I would have been flattered and elated to have landed a catch like Myles. But now I was sort of…taken.

  By two amazing guys. God, even my grandma didn’t know!

  He must have read my expression wrong, because he said, “I know you said you don’t date. If I’m triggering you…”

  “You’re not triggering me,” I told him honestly. “It’s not that. It’s…well…”

  He waited expectantly.

  I felt terrible for breaking his heart this way.

  “I’m kind of…involved with someone.” It was only a small lie, I figured, since there were two someones.

  “Oh.” He forced a smile, shrugged. “Forget I said anything. I just thought with you saying you don’t date and all…”

  “It’s kind of a friends-with-benefits type of thing,” I admitted, shrugging to show it was okay. Myles was sweet, and I really didn’t want to accidently lead him on, so when he offered to walk me to my car, I graciously declined.

  Unfortunately, I soon learned to regret my decision.

  The student parking lot was dark, and the few lights around the perimeter didn’t throw much illumination. I held my purse close, almost like a shield, and started across it to my car as quickly as possible. I was only vaguely aware of a sound behind me. But when I stopped to listen, I realized there was indeed someone walking a few yards behind me in the lot. I turned and squinted into the dark. “Myles?” Maybe he’d come out to watch over me anyway.


  No one answered. My heart ticked in my throat, faster and faster.

  But now I heard no footsteps.

  “You have to stop this, Iz,” I told myself. “You can’t jump at every shadow. We’re getting our shit together, remember?”

  I nodded at my own internal monologue, turned and started toward my car once more.

  The footsteps—now unmistakable—resumed behind me. The sound of them—heavy, male—made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I thought of every slasher movie I’d ever seen. My heart quickly went from ticking to thudding thickly inside me.

  Again I stopped. And the footsteps stopped with me.

  I definitely knew something was up. Fear turned the air electric around me and made my mouth taste bitter. With a gasp of breath and a quick spurt of speed, I started racing toward the corner of the lot where I knew my car to be.

  The man behind me started running as well, matching me step for step. He was big and he overtook me easily.

  I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

  I reached into my purse for the pair of scissors I carried with me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find them. Shit. They were heavy; they’d fallen to the bottom.

  I was still digging when I finally reached the driver’s side of the car. I gave up searching for the scissors and pulled the keys from my pocket instead. The footsteps were just behind me now, not more than two feet. I felt hot breath on the back of my neck…

  There was no time to unlock the door. I spun around, lashing out at the man behind me with the keys, but he easily knocked them from my grip. The keys—my only weapon—spun off into the dark, glinting as they fell harmlessly to the asphalt. I opened my mouth to scream, to alert the others I was in trouble, wondering why I hadn’t done so already, but the man was suddenly standing there right in front of me, pinning me to the side of my car, and fear froze my voice inside me.