Tiana, My Perfect Doll

Tiana

It was Tuesday, and the dreaded “Cosplay” moment was closing in. Buck naked, I rummaged through my closet. My gut churned with anxiety as I hunted for an outfit to fake a schoolgirl’s innocence. My sex slave routine had taken root, forcing me into twisted roleplays some nights—my only chance to wear “clothes,” though calling them that was a sick joke. My eyes landed on the “Sērā fuku,” that blue-and-white sailor shirt, a leftover from some warped fantasy of Japanese purity. “I’ll play the good little student,” I told myself, a bitter smirk twisting my lips.

The sailor collar was the only thing that looked remotely real on this fucked-up getup. I slipped on the white bodysuit first, its stretchy fabric clinging to my hot skin like a too-tight swimsuit. Over my small tits, two heart-shaped holes—cut with creepy precision—let my pierced nipples, ringed with gold, gleam dirty under the dim light. Down below, it was just two thin straps sliding into my crotch, slicing up my ass in cruel lines, leaving my pussy bare with no shame. Then, with a steady hand, I shoved in the butt plug. Cold metal slid inside me, a familiar stab that made me grit my teeth. My walls clamped around the blue diamond tip, a chilly weight I’d gotten used to. My fingers lingered, messing with it despite myself, and hot shivers hit me—a shameful thrill drilled into me by his lessons.

The blue skirt with white stripes, chopped way too short, stopped dead at the top of my thighs—a pathetic scrap pretending to be fabric. Barely held up by a tied strip in the back, like a kitchen apron, it was a bullshit cover that showed more than it hid. I pulled on the blue socks, soft up to my calves, and their touch gave me some weird comfort. Black high heels came next, mandatory fuckers that stretched my skinny legs and arched my back hard.

To top off this slutty mess, I strapped a red leather collar around my neck, a choking badge of my submission. Metal letters spelled “Bitch” across it—the highest honor I could earn today. Then, with a quick snap, I clipped red bowties onto my nipples, biting over the gold rings, turning my flesh into a living offering.

I sat at my desk, facing the mirror, brushing my pretty brown hair. I let it fall over one shoulder—too sexy, too risky. I yanked it up into a high ponytail like some sporty chick, and a flash hit me: his fingers gripping it, yanking me back like a damn animal. I sucked in a hard breath, shoving the image away—too raw, too wild. So I tied it into two pink pigtails instead, their soft ends brushing my cheeks, a young, fuckable gift begging to be taken.

Still at the mirror, I stared at my face—a fragile blank I had to turn into a slutty mask that screamed “break me.” I smeared ivory foundation over my pale, smooth skin, making it glow fake under the dim light, wiping out every sign of my exhaustion. Black eyeliner traced my big blue eyes, cold and dead under dark lashes. Pink blush hit my cheeks, clashing loud with my pale face—a fake youthful spark long gone. I finished with powdery pink lipstick on my full lips, improving that innocent virgin look that all old men crave for.

Now I checked my whole face—its oval shape making me look like a porcelain doll, cold and perfect, almost unreal in the soft light. I grinned at the mirror, practicing the coy smile he sometimes demanded. Happy with it, I dropped back to my usual blank stare, a cover for my wrecked mind. But in the heavy silence, my frozen reflection came alive. I pictured his thick cum pooling on my forehead, dripping slow down my face, spreading like a spiderweb. I shut my eyes, holding my breath to kill that nasty vision.

I grabbed the leash, my fingers grazing the worn leather before hooking it to the ring piercing my clit—click, the lock snapped shut, sealing me to my submission. I crawled to the door and knelt on the hard floor, the bitter taste of leather filling my mouth as I bit down to hold it steady. With shaky hands, I tied the black silk ribbon around my eyes, its cool touch sliding over my skin before plunging me into thick, almost comforting darkness. Always half an hour early—any slip-up meant harsh punishment. I waited in silence, perched on my heels, hands crossed behind my back, listening to my ragged breathing, waiting for Roy, my cruel and all-mighty god.

Roy

I stood outside Tiana’s room, knowing her waiting body was right there behind the door. She knew I was coming—my heavy steps creaked the wooden stairs down to the basement, where I’d built her grim little world, a fancy cage for my pet bird. I stayed still on purpose, stretching out that tense wait. Then I took a deep breath, turned the handle with a sharp click, and pushed the door open quiet.

The door swung wide, her sweet, familiar smell hitting my nose hard. Tiana knelt straight in the submission pose I demanded, rocking that Japanese schoolgirl outfit that made her look damn hot.

“Good evening, sweetheart, I see my little doll’s perfect,” I said, praising her killer prep—a well-trained slave.

My breathing sped up when I spotted her pink nipples sticking out, decked with gold rings and red ribbons, waking up my endless hunger. Right then, I wanted to pounce and dig my claws into her tiny frame. But I held back—gotta wait till the fruit’s ripe to really enjoy it.

I stepped closer and grabbed the leash dangling from her mouth. “You’ve learned obedience good,” I said, then kissed her hard. My tongue shoved hers around; I savored the addictive taste of her surrender. She let me do it like a tamed beast—I tasted her spit, nipped her lips, my hand smashing her face against mine. Our lips finally split, a thin string of drool hanging before it vanish, and I stood up.

“Now come on, I’m taking you to meet your new private teacher.”

She bent forward on all fours and started crawling, letting out a weak moan as I yanked the leash. Tiana moved, blindfolded, trusting her master to steer her wherever I wanted—I smirked inside, I’d shaped the perfect doll.

She climbed the stairs, every step burned into her memory, a path of pain carved into her flesh. I watched, hooked on her cat-like moves, that sway showing off a back arch so sexy it was almost filthy. We crossed into the living room, our next playground, where Erik, my old buddy, was waiting.

Dressed in a sharp beige suit, he oozed stage-ready charm, like a ringmaster set to run a death dance. Lounging easy with a sly grin, he sipped steaming tea, king of this space that felt like his. With a slow tug, I pulled Tiana’s hair to lift her kneeling in front of him, untying the silk ribbon that kept her in the dark. Her eyes met his—prey facing predator at last.

“Tiana, meet Mr. Dubois—your new teacher.”

“Good evening… Mr. Dubois,” she whispered, eyes down, locked on the floor. Her soft, weak voice slid out like a humiliating tease.

Erik ate her up with his sharp brown eyes, picking apart every curve with cold precision. He set his teacup down slow, like a ritual, then leaned in. A hungry grin stretched his lips. His hand reached out, brushing her chin before gripping it firm, forcing her to look at him.

“Such a fine beauty,” he purred, his smooth voice dripping with ownership. “Roy, you sure know how to spoil your toys.”

I stepped up, stone-faced. “No marks on the face. My golden rule.”

With a slick move, I slid beside him and handed over the leash, leather slipping through my fingers. “She’s yours.”

Erik gave the strap a light pull, testing her. “Ready for your first lesson, pretty girl?” he asked, his sweet tone hiding a dark edge.

“Yes… Mr. Dubois,” Tiana answered, her shy words fading into a defeated breath. “Please, teach me, I’m ready.”

Erik

Roy backed off to a chair in the corner, handing me the reins of his flesh puppet. With a fake cheerful tone, I told Tiana to stand and turn. She obeyed smooth while I closed in, my hands sliding under her armpits. Through the tight fabric, her firm skin stretched under my fingers. I crouched slow, dragging my hands down her sides, grazing her fit hips—built like a ballet dancer’s. I was pumped to mess with this young prize.

Level with her crotch, a blue gem caught the chandelier light, stuck in her ass like a bold decoration. I pressed my thumb on it, twisting it slow one way, then the other. A sharp moan slipped from her mouth, giving away her pleasure despite holding back. Between her thighs, her pussy lips barely showed, a tight slit my finger brushed, feeling her heat. Hot and wet, Tiana was an angel trapped in lust’s chains.

“Come sit on my lap, sweet thing, I won’t eat you… not yet…” I muttered, pulling her to me hard. Our bodies locked together as I sank back into the chair. She settled in, back against my chest, her crotch rubbing my thigh. My left hand gripped her torso, squeezing her tit—small, tight, like a ripe apple—while my right slid up and down her pale thigh, soaking in its softness.

I grabbed my leather bag nearby and popped it open, pulling out my favorite Old Testament and a shiny vibrator. “Tiana, darling, read me Revelation 17, verses 1 to 6,” I ordered, handing her the book flipped to the right page. I switched on the toy, its low buzz filling the room like a dirty hymn. I waved it in her face with a cocky grin, then pressed it against her pussy, teasing the ring on her clit.

“Read it loud, put some guts into it. No cumming unless I say so.”

“One of the seven angels… who held the seven bowls… came to… to… Hiiii!” A high-pitched squeal cut the air as I twisted her nipple fast and sharp.

“Start over, little one,” I snapped, voice like a blade. “Smoother this time!”

“One of the seven angels who held the seven bowls came and said to me: Come here, he said, I’ll show you the judgment of the great whore who sits on many waters…”

“Yeah, not bad! Keep going,” I hissed, squeezing her tit hard while my other hand jammed the toy against her soft lips.

Her body, pinned to mine, shook under the relentless attack. Her clenched hands gripped the book, her shaky voice stumbling over words. “The kings of the earth fucked around with her… Ha…” A sweet moan slipped out.

“Keep it up, you little temptress,” I breathed in her ear, sucking her earlobe loud.

“And the people… of the earth got drunk… on the wine of her whoring… Haaaaa!” She broke down with a scream, her orgasm smashing my rule.

Warm juice soaked my pants. I yanked the vibrator off fast, flipped her skirt up quick. Grabbing her thighs, I pulled her close, tilting her hips to aim the stream skyward, letting it rain down on us warm.

“Let’s taste your sweet wine!” I shouted, wild, mouth open to catch her gift like a fucked-up blessing.

Her fountain finally dried up, and I planted my mouth on her delicious pussy, licking the drops off her skin before shoving my tongue in deep to clean her out good. Tiana, half-sprawled on me, legs bent up, still trembled, her muscles twitching from the strain. I dropped her legs and hauled her back onto me.

“Should congratulate you,” I muttered, faking regret, “But you came without my permission, so… Tell me, Tiana, what should I do now?”
“Please, sir, punish me!” she begged, voice shaking.
“Why do I need to punish you?” I asked, a smug grin creeping up.
“‘Cause I couldn’t hold it,” she admitted, eyes down.
“And why couldn’t you hold it?” I pressed, voice low, almost a growl.
“‘Cause I’m a horny bitch… a filthy slut,” she spat out, words slipping in a ashamed huff.
“Good… Lay across my thighs,” I ordered, pleased.

I flipped her over my lap, her belly pressed against me, her ass—two perfect little mounds—sticking up, defenseless. The leash and skirt hit the floor—those things were in the way, so I tossed them aside rough. Slow, I grabbed the cane from my bag, its smooth, bendy feel sliding between my fingers.

“Ziiiiiiip!” The cane sliced the air as I swung it hard into nothing, making Tiana jump, her breath catching, knowing damn well what was coming. This punishment tool, one of my favorites, was a 60cm stick, 5mm thin, carved from tough carbon fiber, with a no-slip grip that stuck in my hand. They called it the “devil’s bite”—damn right, too: one bad hit could rip skin or leave deep bruises.

“Tiana, I’ll give you a shot to lighten your punishment,” I said, smirking sweet. “We’re playing a little teaching game. Ten words to spell. One mistake, one hit. Focus hard.” She nodded, breathing short, hands clutching the chair’s edge.

“First word: debauchery.”

“D-E-B… O…” she stammered, voice wobbly.

“Ziiiiiiip! Mmh…” The cane whistled and smacked her soft flesh. A muffled yelp burst from her throat.

“Wrong,” I taunted, loving her fuck-up. “D-E-B-A-U-C-H-E-R-Y.”

Sharp, I barked: “Next, harlot.”

“H-A-R… L-O…” she mumbled, unsure, fingers digging into the chair.

“Ziiiiiiip!” The cane cut the air and landed harder, “Hiii…” A shrill moan shot out.

“Wrong again,” I sneered, eating up her panic. “H-A-R-L-O-T. That one was easy, come on. Third word: sin.”

“S-I-N,” she blurted, breath choppy.

“Right,” I grunted, rubbing her ass with the cane. “Maybe you’re not totally useless. Your favorite word: submission.”

“S-U-B… M-I…” she started, voice cracking, then stopped, choking on a sob. “S-I-O-N?”

“Ziiiiiiip!” The cane ripped through with brutal force, slamming her marked skin. A scream tore the silence, her body twisting, tears finally spilling free.

“Wrong,” I growled, low and mean, soaking in her misery. “S-U-B-M-I-S-S-I-O-N. Maybe Roy should tattoo it on you so you fucking learn it!”

The next words rolled out—Chastisement, Lust, Corruption, Ecstasy, Penitence, Sacrilege—but, to my delight, the pressure broke her, and she barely got one right. Red streaks slashed her ass first, then spread to her thighs, carving a glowing grid on her wrecked flesh. Every scream I ripped out, every letter she fumbled in fear of the next hit, was a sweet gift to my sick joy. Roy, off in his corner, watched quiet, stroking himself slow, his face locked in a predator’s calm. When Tiana’s punishment wrapped, she climbed back on my lap, book shaking in her hands, ready to read again under the vibrator’s low hum.

“On her forehead… Mmmh… she wore a mystery name that meant: ‘Great Babylon, mother of whores… Mmmh… and earth’s abominations… Mmmh…’” Tiana droned verse five, her voice chopped by pain and mess, every stifled moan showing her fight against the buzzing.

“All women on earth come from Great Babylon,” I said, grinning smug. “Lost sluts who need strict education to get back in line.”

“Mmmmmmh… Mr. Dubois, please, can I cum now?” Tiana begged, at her limit, voice quaking with exhaustion and desperation.

“Yeah, you little bitch, cum now,” I ordered, eyes glinting cruel, “but keep reading the last verse. Go.”

“And I saw this woman… Mmmh… drunk on the blood of saints… Haaaa… and the blood of Jesus’ witnesses… Ooohhh…” she stuttered, voice shattering as the orgasm hit, words drowning in wild moans. Her body jerked on my lap, the book nearly slipping from her shaky hands, a hot flood soaking my thigh again. Then she went limp, slumping against me, wiped out, the book pressed to her chest like a last-ditch grip.

“That’s a nice Bible lesson,” I said, smirking sly, rubbing her wet pussy absentmindedly. “Learn something from it.”

Roy

Erik gave me a hell of a show—what a tasty, wild finish! Gotta give it to him—his creative flair and smooth-talking bullshit were miles from my rough, straight-up way. I got up from my chair, pants open, dick standing tall and proud, then walked over, my face shut tight like an ice wall. Time to show him the tricks I taught her.

She stayed curled against Erik, her sweaty skin under his shameless groping hands, her faint whispers barely cutting the quiet. Her hard nipples and swollen clit screamed she still wanted more, even beat to shit. I stepped up, and Erik shot me a grin.

“Her lesson’s done,” he said, his syrupy voice dripping sarcasm, “but I can pull overtime if you want.”

“Nah,” I cut him off, “she’s learned enough, and since she’s well-trained, time she shows you some thanks.”

I snapped my fingers, a sharp crack slicing the air. Tiana moved fast, sliding to the floor to kneel on her heels, then turned to face Erik. Silent, she crossed her arms behind her back, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue—a blank offer, ready for him.

“What’s the magic words, Tiana?” I asked, hiding an order.

“Mr. Dubois, to thank you, can this submissive little bitch have the honor of sucking your dick, please?” she recited, her shaky voice wrapped in hollow manners.

Erik threw me a look full of respect. He nodded, grinning wide.

He jumped up, his belt clanking as he undid it, then ripped his button off and dropped his pants, his stiff cock springing out right in Tiana’s face, an inch from her tongue.

“Here you go, darling, dig in,” he said, a nasty grin splitting his face.

I came up behind Tiana, lifted her hips, pulling her to her feet, her chest bent toward Erik. Hands on her hips, I rubbed my dick against her pussy, ready to shove in any second.

“Ready, Erik, for a hands-on study?”  

The night blazed up in a storm of slapping flesh, choked moans, and sharp screams torn out, where two evil shadows with frozen grins ripped apart a broken-winged angel in a brutal, merciless dance.