#btbday1

Lavenza had always been a naughty girl—the kind of child who deserved coal in her stocking for Christmas.

Yet as the youngest daughter of a wealthy family, she grew up with every whim of hers indulged, from the moment she rose in the morning until she returned to bed at dusk. That meant she could have any toy she desired, and the holidays were the perfect season for wishes to be granted.

Dolls were her favorites. The most expensive ones were displayed on shelves that covered much of her bedroom walls, dressed in exquisite gowns inspired by famous fashion houses, sewn from fabrics more luxurious than anything most people would ever wear—or even touch—in their lifetimes.

Sometimes her older brother, Graus, would steal them when she wasn’t looking, tearing out their hair or ripping off their arms, then abandoning the mutilated remains somewhere in the house to hide the trail of his crimes. Sooner or later, the servants always found them. When that happened, Lavenza was quick to retaliate, destroying Graus’s own favorite toys—burning his plastic soldiers in the stove, puncturing his soccer balls with needles until they deflated—turning the siblings childhood into a constant war of cruel games.

But in the end, none of it truly mattered. If a doll broke or a soldier toy went missing, another would appear the following year, neatly tucked inside a birthday or Christmas gift box, ready to replace the previous one.

As Lavenza grew into adulthood, her love for dolls and beautiful things grew with her. The difference was that plastic and porcelain dolls now bored her terribly, and she began to long for something far more wonderful. She wanted something more extraordinary.  

And then, one day, she saw it.

The most exotic and singular doll in the world.

Her skin was pale as porcelain, studded with tiny scales that shimmered like gemstones, shifting from pearlescent white to green depending on the light. Her eyes were yellow, like twin topazes. Her hair fell in a cascade of ebony. Her body was small and slender, delicate as a fine paintbrush.

She was perfect.

So Lavenza decided to give her to herself.

“You’ve always been capricious,” Graus told her. “But I never thought you’d be interested in in this kind of product.”  

“You and Mother have your own,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t I have one too?”

“Mother offered you one years ago. You refused.”

“It was old and ugly. Besides, some things are worth more when you buy them yourself—things no one else can give you. And this…” She smiled. “This is my gift to myself.”

The cost meant nothing to her. Every cent was worth it. And once the transaction was complete, she took the doll home.

She surrounded her with beautiful things, painted her face, brushed her hair, dressed her as she pleased, always trying to accentuate her strange, otherworldly beauty and showed her off to friends and family the way she once had with her favorite dolls as a child.

Look at my beautiful doll. She belongs only to me.

Of all the gifts fate had ever placed in her path, this was the greatest.

Lavenza adored her doll.

Still, no matter how carefully she treated her, the doll sometimes still misbehaved: She resisted, wasn’t cooperative, she disobeyed and acted in ways Lavenza found ugly or feral, like a wild animal that refused to be tamed.

This doll was invaluable, irreplaceable. One of a kind. She couldn’t simply discard her and buy another the way she had as a child. No, she would never part with her beloved doll, not with the one she played with every day, the doll she could make cry, the doll whose heartbeat she could feel beneath her hand.

So she punished her.

She restrained her arms and legs and locked her inside a small box until she learned her lesson. Wasn’t she a generous owner? Sometimes, Lavenza admitted, her emotions got the better of her—there were blows, hair pulled, electric collars and freezing rooms—but she never did anything that might permanently damage her precious doll long term. After all, the doll needed to last until she lost her beauty, and that day was still far off.

Then one day, the doll escaped.

She fled from her owner, disappearing into the turbulent waters.

Lavenza was inconsolable. She screamed. She stomped. She lashed out at anyone who came near, throwing a spectacular tantrum.

Life without her beloved doll was meaningless. And this time, there was no way to buy her back, because she was unique. Her other toys no longer brought her comfort, and she discarded them without hesitation, pouring all her time and resources into reclaiming what was hers.

And then, another night, the doll returned.

Her gaze was no longer dull and obedient, like glass marbles. Now it was sharp. Dangerous. The eyes of a furious animal.

The doll did not want to come back home.

Lavenza tried to force her. She reminded her of her place—inside boxes, upon shelves, beneath artificial lights and spotlights, beside her feet or resting obediently in her lap. By her side.

But the doll rebelled, slipping from her grasp. Her thin pink lips—meant to remain forever closed, as if painted onto her face—parted, and she bit her, before vanishing into the night.

Lavenza collapsed onto the floor, writhing amid her tears, her blood, and the folds of her expensive clothing.

Alone.

Betrayed.

Lavenza had always been a wicked woman—the kind who, if doomed to burn, would throw her dolls into the fire first rather than face the flames herself alone.

The poison was destroying her slowly, painfully. But she would not die before giving herself one final gift, before granting one last desire.

And she already knew exactly what she wanted.

Taglist: @scoundrelwithboba @morning-star-whump @lancedoncrimsonwings @3-2-whump @whumped-by-glitter

@string-of-broken-hearts @alyscat @oddsconvert @what-if-i-just-did @bacillusinfection

@writinglittlepains @washing---machine @enasolos @inhurtandincomfort @cepheusgalaxy

"What is it?" Princess asks, her wide green eyes looking at Mistress so curious and trusting.

Mistress leans forward, making Maid's chest clench as their owner cups Princess' cheek in her hand. "It's a little toy just for you, my little Princess. Would you like to try it out?"

"Oh, yes, please, ma'am!" Princess nods her head vigorously.

Maid's grip on her new recipe book tightens as Mistress pulls hard on Princess' legs, making the redhead giggle as she's splayed out, fully open for Mistress to prod inside her so intimately. But Maid knew if she looked away, they would both be punished. Mistress liked it best when she watched.

Something she reminded Maid of now as Mistress slips her fingers between Princess' folds, looking directly into Maid's eyes as she does.

Her gaze only breaks as Maid becomes captive in how Princess gasps and arches, how she bites her lip as she was taught to, her eyes half open and longing at their Mistress. Not at her.

"Always so good for me," Mistress croons, moving her fingers harshly inside of Princess. Maid can tell from her bonded's small winces and hisses of pain disguised as sounds of longing that it hurts. But Mistress doesn't care. She only smiles as she withdraws her hand, taking the new toy from Princess' limp grasp, then shoves it inside, her smile growing when Princess yelps. "Now, you're going to keep being my good little Princess and keep my gift inside you all night, understood?"

Princess looks a little confused, but bites her lip again before saying, "Yes, of course, m- oh!" Her body arches as she moans and shivers once Mistress has done something in her phone.

"Maid, go prepare Princess for the party tonight." Mistress orders with a snap of her fingers.

Dutifully, Maid rises and curtsies. As she helps Princess stand from the couch, her bonded stumbles. There's also a faint buzzing noise?

"Oh, before you leave…" Mistress stands, holding Princess' jaw in her hand even as Maid holds her waist. "Princess, that will keep track of how many times you cum on it as well. So do your best to resist, alright, pet?"

Maid can feel her bonded shaking against her. Her heart aches as Princess still smiles and looks at Mistress so adoringly.

"As you wish, Mistress. Anything for you."

"Good girl." Mistress purrs, kissing Princess deeply even with Maid standing right there.

The kiss lasts moments and forever. Then Mistress lets her go with a smirk to Maid before waving them off in dismissal.

It takes a long time for Maid to get Princess back to their rooms. Her legs keep wobbling and it's hard for Maid to help her stay upright. Eventually they pause on their private staircase.

"Oh, Maid," Princess croaks, then bursts into tears, holding her bonded tight as her body shakes.

Maid can only hold her. For these precious stolen seconds, she just holds her.

Bound to Her taglist:

Miach had been happy. She had been so happy to have Shu Fang in her life. They had been fast friends from the moment they met as preschoolers. That friendship had only strengthened and grown. It felt like Miach would always, <i>always</i>, have Shu Fang by her side.

Then, Shu Fang had left. Miach still didn't understand why. She couldn't wrap her head around the way that the girl had vanished from her life. It was supposed to be their senior year together. Their year to finish school and get ready to take on the world.

Only, it wasn't. It was just <i>her</i> senior year. Her lonely, horrible, miserable senior year.

Miach's grades dropped, and she barely managed to graduate. Her pick of any university she wanted to attend dwindled. Before long, it was more of a question of if she would be going to university at all.

Miach's appearance got worse. She stopped keeping up with her make-up and her hair. She stopped keeping up with the latest trends. By the end of the year, it seemed like she was a laughing stock. The friends she had once had no longer treated her the same way.

None of that bothered Miach half as much as Shu Fang's absence did, though. There were weeks where she would stay up for nights on end browsing social media and trying to find any of Shu Fang's accounts. Most of them had stopped loading whenever Miach tried to go to them ages ago. It had started when Shu Fang suddenly stopped going to their school. When she stopped answering calls.

At first, Miach had wondered if something had happened. Maybe Shu Fang was hurt, or sick. Then, she had come across a new account with Shu Fang's profile picture. It was a privated account, though. She couldn't see anything but the account name– a variation on Shu Fang's old social media handles– and the profile picture. She had sent a friend request, but it had never gone through. That had been when Miach realized that Shu Fang wasn't hurt. She wasn't sick or dead. She was a bitch. A flakey, cold hearted bitch who had cut Miach out of her life.

With finals just around the corner and her grades still in free fall, Miach knew she wouldn't graduate. It didn't matter, though. None of it mattered anymore. All that mattered was finding a way to make Shu Fang pay for what she had done. Her efforts to plan something– all empty efforts that left her more frustrated than the last– were interrupted by her father springing a sudden trip on her. A promise of a surprise that would get her mind off of things.

Miach didn't know what the surprise was, and she didn't care. She just wanted to get back to her planning and plotting. Her father was persistent, though. He just wouldn't leave her alone. So, finally, Miach would relent.

That weekend, he took her up to their vacation home in the mountains. The drive was a quiet one. An awkward one. Her father had always been bad at talking to her. He was better at showing his love with gifts. Miach knew her mood wasn't helping that time, though. She had no choice but to accept that this was her fault, too. She didn't <i>want</i> to go with him. She wanted to stay home. She wished he could have just brought the gift to her, instead of taking her to it.

Her self reflection didn't lead Miach to change her ways, though. The drive would remain silent and miserably awkward.

When her father finally pulled into the driveway of the quant little cabin he would hold a hand up and say, "Before you get out, we need to talk."

Oh, there it was. Any guilt Miach had felt about ignoring her father on the drive faded away. He just brought her there to lecture her. She obliged, though. She crossed her arms and glared at him, but she didn't get out.

"I know things have been hard on you since Shu Fang... <i>moved away</i>," her father began.

Miach almost cut him off right there. Both of her parents acted like there was some reason Shu Fang's family had up and disappeared. They acted like it wasn't just Shu Fang leaving and abandoning her. Arguing with her dad would get her nowhere, though. Miach knew that. She only glared harder.

"Even though you're hurting, that is no excuse for you to neglect your grades and your appearance. Our family has a reputation, and you need to do better to uphold it. I didn't bring you all the way out here to tell you that, though. I got you something that I think will lift your spirits. You know my job gives our family certain privileges, yes?" Her father spoke calmly. It wasn't as aggressive as his lectures usually were. He was still always so preachy, though. Miach couldn't stand it.

If she didn't answer him, they would just sit there in silence. She knew she wouldn't win any arguments she started. So, she gave a nod.

Her father seemed to deem that as answer enough, "One of those privileges is the fact that the law only applies to us in some regards. Some families in our position use that for frivolous purposes. Petty crimes, drunk driving, excusing delinquent behavior among their children. We have never used our position to escape the law before, because we have never had to. The gift I have gotten you, though... it will require us to use that privilege. I've already spoken with several law enforcement officials back home about this, so they know what will be happening. What you'll be bringing back."

Now Miach was interested. She was more than interested. She turned her head to look towards the cabin, as if she might get some hint about what might be waiting inside for her.

Instead of scolding her, her father chuckled. "I see that I've got your attention now. I won't drag this conversation on forever. Before we go inside, I want to make something clear, Miach. I've arranged for you to have an extra three months to correct your grades over the summer. If you haven't gotten yourself back on track by then, I'll be taking your present back." With that, he turned the car off and got out.

Indignation and rage almost overwhelmed the curiosity Miach felt, but she got it back under control and followed her father inside. Maybe she wouldn't even care what the present was. Maybe she would just fail anyways, to make a point.

Miach stopped thinking entirely when she got to the living room of the cabin. For a moment, she thought Shu Fang was waiting there for her on the couch. The illusion didn't last. The girl sat on the couch was thinner than Shu Fang. Her chest wasn't as impressive as Shu Fang's had been, either. Miach couldn't tell with the girl sitting down, but she might have been an inch or two taller than Shu Fang was, too.

It didn't matter that the girl wasn't quite Shu Fang, though. All Miach could think was that she finally, <i>finally</i> had her Shu Fang back. She didn't think twice about respect or rules or discipline as she pushed past her father and dove for the girl on the couch.

The girl raised cuffed wrists defensively, but her arms didn't have the strength to push Miach away.

"Get off of me, get the <i>fuck</i> off of me," her voice was shallow and crackly. It sounded like she had been sick, until recently. That didn't stop the venom that dripped from her words, though.

"Miach, get back here," Miach's father interjected sharply. He tugged Miach away by the back of her shirt, and Miach grabbed for one of the girl's wrists.

"Daddy, she looks just like her, she-" Miach couldn't take her eyes off of the girl even as her father hauled her over to an armchair nearby.

"She does, but she's not her. Now, you can do whatever you want with her, once she's recovered. She's had a nasty cough, and it might be contagious for another few days. I would have waited until she was better to bring you up here, but I think you'll need all the time you can get to bring your grades back up," he said flatly.

Normally, Miach would have bristled at the barbed comments. Normally, she would have wanted to fight her father over it. Now, she could only look at the girl with wide eyes.

"She came through the facility at work. There is no family to come looking for her, and she doesn't know anything that might make her dangerous. I was able to get special permissions for her custody to be transferred to us. Officially, we are... rehabilitating her for society. You don't need to worry about that. No one is going to be coming to check on her. As far as you are concerned, she's a pet. A pet that you need to keep under control," her father continued on.

Miach looked the girl before her over with wide eyes. She knew better than most people did that the majority of prisoners who passed through the sorting facility her father worked at weren't actually as dangerous as they were claimed to be. It was still Miach's first time seeing one of them, and here she was seeing the girl without bars or walls between them.

The girl gave a wet cough. One she didn't raise her hands to cover. She glared Miach down with steadfast determination. That reminded Miach of Shu Fang, and she liked it. Even when Miach had started pushing Shu Fang to accept her feelings, the other girl had never backed down. She had never wavered. Even when Miach had to make more and more forceful attempts to steer Shu Fang in the right direction, she had never stopped looking so determined.

Shu Fang had been able to leave, though. This girl couldn't. This girl belonged to Miach, whether that determination broke or not.

Miach finally looked away. She turned a beaming smile to her father, "Thank you, daddy! I love her so much already! I'll work really hard to get my grades back up. I promise."

"Good. Now, you can call her whatever you like, but her legal name is Kanako. She might respond better to that, at first," he finally moved to let Miach back up from her chair. "She has one more day of antibiotics before the window of contagion passes. Until then, she will be in the guest room here. On Sunday, when we go back home, she'll be coming with us."

My mother used to be home more.

I don’t know why that’s the first difference I think of, both of my parents acted very differently in the Before times, but when I try to think back that’s always the first things that comes to my mind. My father was home more too, and they both smiled more, and my mother used to wear these gorgeous, light dresses in the summer. I’d almost forgotten about those pretty dresses.

I think we were happy. We were never rich, but I think we were happy.

That’s all I can remember about the before times.

______

The night everything changed I was six. My father left home about his usual time, but still wasn’t back well after dark. 

“There’s a celebration happening, they’re going to be celebrating all evening.” My mother explained, as she took us up stairs. But she didn’t even look remotely happy, and she kept glancing out of the windows. 

Just as she turned to the door, my brother and I both tucked into bed, the first explosion shook the bed. I instantly leapt towards her, and she crouched down to hold me close. My little brother, two years my junior and even more confused was quick to follow. I could hear her heart pounding in time with mine.

“Just a celebration.” She repeated, and in the uneven light from the window I saw her smile, but it was a scary kind of smile. It was a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “They’re having a celebration, and then everyone is going home.” But her arms told a different story, holding us tightly against her as she sat on the floor and scooted backwards to lean against the wall.

The next explosion sounded nearer, and I let out a small shriek, burying my head into my mother’s clothes. She ran a gentle hand over my back, calming, repetitive motions that mimicked her repetitive speech. Her words were encouraging, but her distracted looks out of the window, biting her lip, and reluctance to let us out of her sight were not.

I tried to focus on just that arm over my back, shrinking my world down to that one room, that one bubble of stillness in the terrifying unknown, that hand moving up and down, up and down, up and down…