**Title: The Doll’s Plaything**

I never thought I’d end up here—sprawled out on silk sheets in some gilded mansion bedroom, wrists tied loosely to the bedposts with velvet ribbons while *she* loomed over me, all porcelain skin and glossy dark hair. The Doll—that’s what everyone called her—wasn’t just a rich man’s plaything. She was the one in control here. And tonight, she’d decided I was hers.

She traced a cold, manicured finger down my chest, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “You look nervous, boy,” she murmured. “Don’t be. I’ll take good care of you.”

I swallowed hard, my cock already stiff against my stomach, betraying just how much I wanted this. The harness around her hips gleamed under the dim chandelier light, the thick black strap-on jutting out proudly from between her thighs. Fuck, it was huge—bigger than me, and the sight of it made my pulse throb.

The Doll straddled my hips, her bare thighs pressing against mine as she leaned down to whisper in my ear. “You’ve never done this before, have you?” I shook my head, heart hammering. “Good,” she purred, grinding the base of the strap against my cock, making me groan. “Then I’ll be gentle… at first.”

Her fingers dipped into a jar of slick lube, coating them liberally before she reached behind me. I tensed as her fingertip circled my hole, teasing, barely applying pressure. “Relax,” she commanded, and I exhaled shakily, letting her in. The first press of her finger was a shock—cold lube, tight heat—but then she crooked it just right, and my back arched off the bed.

“Oh fuck—” I gasped, my cock leaking against my stomach. The Doll smirked, adding a second finger, stretching me with slow, deliberate movements. “You’re tight,” she mused, scissoring her fingers, making me whine. “But you’ll take me so well.”

By the time she pulled her fingers free, I was a mess—breath ragged, hole twitching, desperate for more. She coated the strap-on with lube, the glossy sheen making it glisten under the light. “Ready?” she asked, lining up the head against me.

I nodded frantically, and then she pushed in.

The stretch burned, overwhelming, but the second she bottomed out, the pain melted into something dizzyingly good. The Doll let out a soft moan, rolling her hips experimentally, watching my face as I clenched around the thick silicone. “God, you feel perfect,” she breathed, gripping my hips. “So tight around my cock.”

Then she started moving.

Each thrust slammed into me, deep and relentless, the base of the strap grinding against my ass with every snap of her hips. I couldn’t stop the noises pouring out of me—broken moans, choked curses—as she fucked me harder, her tits swaying with each movement.

“You like that, boy?” she taunted, reaching down to stroke my leaking cock in time with her thrusts. “Like being my little plaything?” I could only nod, my vision blurring as pleasure coiled tight in my gut.

Her pace turned punishing, the bed creaking beneath us, her strap hitting that spot inside me with ruthless precision. I was so close, my cock throbbing in her grip, when she suddenly leaned down, her lips brushing my ear. “Cum for me,” she ordered.

I came with a shout, ropes of cum splattering across my stomach as my hole clenched around her cock. The Doll groaned, fucking me through it, riding out my tremors until she finally slowed, panting.

When she untied my wrists, I collapsed, boneless and spent. She smirked, trailing a finger through the mess on my stomach before bringing it to her lips. “Good boy.”

I knew then—I’d never be the same.