by Неизвестный
‘And I’m not allowed to tell Gloria about you, Dolly. Mummy says she wouldn’t understand and I think she’s right. You’re a special secret friend, Dolly, and I’m going to have a bed of my own in the nursery so that I can keep you with me all night when I want to.’
Dorothea’s plans for me were delayed for a little while by the reappearance of her mother with something that was a cross between a large push chair and a wheelchair. Between them, the two females had little trouble in lifting me into it and I was taken out and down a passageway to be installed in the nursery that was to become my new, permanent home.
Mrs Farnley sent her daughter off to get bathed and changed for dinner once I had been safely unloaded on to a sort of chaise longue. I looked about me, taking in the details of the room. There was, as Dorothea had said, a large bed against one wall and a heavy old chest of drawers beneath the window, beyond which I could just make out a screen of elm trees about a hundred yards from the house. Beyond these again were the distant hills that I knew marked the county border.
The rest of the room’s contents comprised a large, antique wooden rocking horse, a couple of small armchairs and what looked like a battered ancient toy box. Mrs Farnley finished arranging my skirts and straightened up.
‘My daughter thinks I’m completely clueless,’ she said. ‘I know she’s nowhere near as innocent as she tries to make out, which is why I have given her you, Dolly. A young girl has urges which are difficult to ignore and all the time she can satisfy those urges here, I know she’ll remain safe.
‘I expect she’s already explored a few possibilities with you, hasn’t she? Well, that’s good. I’ll not interfere with what she does in any way. You’re her dolly now, so it’s up to her.’
It certainly wasn’t up to me, I reflected grimly. I wanted to scream out in frustration at what they had done to me, but of course I could do no such thing. My only option was to lie there, like a good little rag dolly and await the return of my new young owner.
Dorothea eventually returned in the early evening, having first dined with her mother downstairs. My eyes followed her into the room and I saw that she had tied her hair back and pinned it up in a slightly more mature manner, which was somewhat ruined by the childishly simple pinafore style dress she now wore. Even her stockings were plain and thick and I found myself wondering what she might look like if her mother ever permitted her to dress more like the young adult she really was.
In truth, I had to admit, she was quite a good-looking girl, her bright red hair and splattering of freckles adding to her attraction, rather than the opposite. From what I could see of it, her figure had matured nicely and her long legs, despite their bland hosiery and unflatteringly flat-heeled shoes, were well made. She was not as tall as her imposing mother, but she was still above average height for a female.
‘I hope you haven’t been naughty whilst I’ve been gone, Dolly,’ she smiled. To my surprise, she then immediately drew the dress up over her head and tossed it atop the chest of drawers, revealing a surprisingly raunchy set of underwear beneath. Bra, panties and suspender belt were all bright pink and gauzy, against which the stockings made an incongruous contrast – though not for long.
Unclipping them, Dorothea swiftly rolled them down her legs and kicked them aside, replacing them with a sheer pair of black nylons which she took from one of the drawers. The final touch was a pair of pink patent court shoes with high heels, that added at least another three inches to her height. The transformation in her was staggering. She swayed across to my couch and stood over me.
‘Mummy says she won’t be coming in here until morning,’ she told me. ‘I think she’s guessed, or else you’ve told her, Dolly. Have you told her, you bad Dolly?’ I wanted to shout out to her that I’d be bloody grateful to be able to tell anybody anything, but then her expression softened and I realised that this stupidity act was just another refinement in her demonstration of her control over me.
‘No, of course you haven’t,’ she said, quietly. ‘You can’t talk at all, can you, Dolly, not unless I make you.’ Her hand snaked out and found the cursed button in my neck.
‘Mama, mama, mama, mama,’ I intoned helplessly. Dorothea grinned.
‘Poor Dolly wants her Mama,’ she chuckled. ‘Well, Dolly, Mama is here and Mama is going to fuck her dirty dolly. Legs apart, Dolly.’ She reached down and moved my inert limbs wider, throwing up my skirts and petticoats and scrabbling to open the front of my drawers. Within a minute, she had me hard again.
She bent and kissed the tip of my organ and then released it to wriggle herself out of the panties, revealing a neatly trimmed triangle of auburn pubic hair and a pinkly gaping gash from which tiny little silver rivulets were already oozing.
‘I’ve been thinking about you all through dinner, Dolly,’ she sighed, easing herself on to the chaise and straddling my thighs. ‘And I’ve decided I’m going to fuck you all night long. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Dolly?’ Without further ceremony, she seized my shaft and, with a low moan, lowered herself on to it, closing her eyes as my length slid into her.
‘Ooohhh, Dolly,’ she groaned, shivering ecstatically, ‘that feels wonderful.’ She opened her eyes again and her hands went to the bodice of my dress, fingers reaching inside to draw out my breasts and then slowly tracing the outlines of my nipples. I felt my heart beginning to pound harder and harder, for despite everything, I could not prevent myself from responding physically to her ministrations.
She smiled sweetly down at me. ‘Oh, Dolly dearest,’ she breathed, ‘you are such a lovely, sweet, sissy little dolly, but I just know I’m going to love you best of everybody in the world.’ And with that, she began to shake and quiver into the first stages of an orgasm that was to last well beyond the moment when I exploded my barren seed deep into her womb.
That was five years ago now, or maybe six, and I am still here, on the same chaise longue, looking out at those trees and the faraway hills beyond them. Dorothea has not tired of me in all that time, though she has long since regulated the time she spends here, as she has other duties since her mother’s stroke three years since. I actually feel sorry for Mrs Farnley, lying helpless as she now does in a bedroom not fifty feet from where I, of all people, know how she must feel.
Her daughter runs the household now. She has brought in several new staff, Maudie being only the latest. Maudie is a pretty maid, but she is no more female than I am, for beneath that ludicrously brief uniform, safely strapped up out of harm’s way, lies exactly the same panty content as hides within my more voluminous drawers. The difference is that her male equipment remains out of sight, if perhaps never quite out of her mind, for Dorothea remains as loyal to her Dolly as I am forced to be to her.
Maudie has befriended me out of a sort of horrified pity and she is the only person who knows that I have recovered at least this much power of speech. I dare not let Dorothea know my secret, for I am convinced she would simply send me back for the operation to be done again and this time she might well instruct the surgeon to remove my vocal cords completely. I have to suffer in a silence broken only by the stupid voice box, which has now been adapted so that I can be made to cry aloud.
Apparently I am soon to be fitted with a newer version, which will enable Dorothea to make me ‘say’ several different things to order. I don’t yet know all of them, but Dorothea took great delight in telling me that one variation will be ‘Dolly wants a fuck’. Sadly, and to my great shame, that statement is often all too true, for at least it relieves the boredom of my days as a helpless toy.
Apart from my all-too-brief interludes with my mistress, the only highlights of my day are during those hours at the beginning and end of each day when Maudie is sent to wash and change me, rotating my ever-growing wardrobe of outfits at Dorothea’s behest, so that I am always kept ready should she suddenly decide she has time to visit me.
Unfortunately, although I suspect Maudie would be as eager as I for things to be different, intimate c
ontact on these occasions is restricted to that necessary for the completion of my ablutions, for should Dorothea suddenly appear unexpectedly, either to catch us in an act of flagrant defiance, or to suddenly find that I was not immediately able to perform for her, the consequences, especially for Maudie, would be too awful to contemplate and it is unlikely that the intricate strapping that maintains her feminine appearance down below would ever be required again!
Dear Maudie has done her best for me in other ways: there is now a radio in the nursery, tuned in to a music station, though sometimes, when Dorothea is away from the house for a few hours, Maudie sneaks in and re-tunes it so that I can listen to the odd play or story. She has also asked, on my behalf, whether I might not have a television set to while away my afternoons and my mistress has promised to consider this.
Meantime, I can only hope that she never becomes completely bored with me, for, as I am now, I am good for only one thing. Without the use of my arms, I cannot even hope to relieve my frustrations myself and so can do nothing except simply endure. I am beginning to believe, more and more, that I would truly be better off dead.
There are two other maids exactly like Maudie, though I see very little of them, and all three are kept here by a mixture of discipline and threats. Dorothea has some hold over each of them and they dare not go against her. There is also a new housekeeper, who is certainly not here against her will. Whether it is the generous salary Dorothea pays her, or the fact that she can exercise total authority and control over the sad little trio of submissive maids, I could not say, but I do know that she punishes them frequently and severely and she has even done so in front of me, caning their bare behinds savagely, whilst I look on in embarrassed silence.
Of course, I don’t think she would ever risk that when Dorothea was about. It is just her way of showing how much she despises me, for I am the one person, apart from Mrs Farnley, who is safe against her vicious nature. I am, after all, Dorothea’s Dolly and only she is ever permitted to punish me. Luckily, she loves her Dolly Dearest too much for that to be a frequent occurrence and then she uses nothing more severe than a hairbrush.
I pray that this situation, at least, never changes, nor that my mistress should ever decide to give me, likewise, into the care of this witch, for the thought of that long cane ever lashing across my poor defenceless buttocks is enough to bring tears to my eyes …
I see by the clock that tea time draws near and this tape is nearly finished. Maudie will be here shortly to hide the machine away until the next time Dorothea is away for the day. That may be in a few days’ time, it may be another month and there is no guarantee that Maudie will be able to get another cassette for me.
If she does, I will go on with my sorry tale, though there is, in truth, little more I can add to what I have said here. But at least it prevents me from becoming totally bored with my helpless, useless life during those long periods when my mistress is too busy with her adult responsibilities to visit this nursery and play with her poor, devoted Dolly Dearest.
The End … or is it?
NEXUS NEW BOOKS
To be published in March 2005
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Murilee Martin
Southern California, 1990s. Charlene and Ed run a very kinky business providing paid sexual domination for the jaded tastes of La-La-Land. With Ed behind the scenes and Charlene front of house, they make their clients’ juices – and their money – flow. Ed thinks of himself as the gentle type but, when Charlene begins to take her on-the-job training a little too seriously, Ed must face how dominant his tendencies really are.
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Beth is an impoverished student at St Nectan’s College, Oxford. When Dr Milton recruits her to an exclusive club for submissives and pony-girls, Beth’s independent spirit soon gets her into trouble. Charlotte wants her last year at Oxford to be a memorable one. Lizzie wants Dr Milton all to herself. Beth just wants to pay the rent. Pony races, perverted parties, and Victorian pornography combine to give these college girls a thoroughly indecent education.
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THE NEXUS LETTERS
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THE ACADEMY
Arabella Knight
0 352 33806 7
AMANDA IN THE PRIVATE HOUSE
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ANGEL
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Lindsay Gordon
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BAD PENNY
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Penny Birch
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BARE BEHIND
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BEAST
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BELLE SUBMISSION
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BENCH-MARKS
Tara Black
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BRAT
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BROUGHT TO HEEL
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CAGED!
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CAPTIVE
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CAPTIVES OF THE PRIVATE HOUSE £5.99
Esme Ombreux
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CHALLENGED TO SERVE
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CHERRI CHASTISED
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CORPORATION OF CANES
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THE CORRECTION OF AN ESSEX MAID
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CREAM TEASE
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CRUEL TRIUMPH
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DANCE OF SUBMISSION
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Lisette Ashton
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DARK DESIRES
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Maria del Rey
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DEMONIC CONGRESS
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DIRTY LAUNDRY
Penny Birch
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DISCIPLINE OF THE PRIVATE HOUSE
Esme Ombreux
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DISCIPLINED SKIN
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Wendy Swanscombe
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DISPLAYS OF EXPERIENCE
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Lucy Golden
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DISPLAYS OF PENITENTS
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DRAWN TO DISCIPLINE
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Tara Black
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AN EDUCATION IN THE PRIVATE HOUSE £5.99
Esme Ombreux
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THE ENGLISH VICE
Yolanda Celbridge
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EROTICON 1
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Various
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EROTICON 4
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Various
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THE GOVERNESS ABROAD
Yolanda Celbridge
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THE GOVERNESS AT ST AGATHA’S
Yolanda Celbridge
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GROOMING LUCY
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Yvonne Marshall
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HEART OF DESIRE
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Maria del Rey
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THE HOUSE OF MALDONA
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IN FOR A PENNY
£5.99