Sunday, January 04, 2009

Living Doll 2: Make it Rough by Carlanime Bligh

Living Doll 2: Make it Rough
by Carlanime Bligh
Cover art by Sahara Kelly
ISBN (13): 978-1-60521-124-4
Genre(s): Paranormal, The Fetish Club, BDSM
Series: Living Doll
Length: Novella


Honey, a reluctant switch, has pretty much given up on the idea of ever meeting her perfect Dom. Right now she’d settle for finding a date to the Ironclad Resolution Ball, since her friend James has flaked on her at the last minute. Thinking she’s hiring herself an escort, she accidentally orders herself a doll from the Living Doll Test Kitchens, and gets way more than she bargained for. Thane is ready and able to assume every bit of power she’s willing to yield to him, and fully capable of bringing her to the point of willing surrender.


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Honoria Dore -- Honey to anyone who wanted to live -- swept her bobbed hair back impatiently into a messy ponytail, from which the shorter sections immediately began to escape, and then pulled her laptop toward her.
She’d just listened to the phone message from her friend James. The louse had backed out of escorting her to the Ironclad Resolution Ball on the weekend. Not, she admitted, that she could blame him, really. She and James were just friends after all, and they’d been planning to attend together strictly as a matter of comfort and convenience. It had always been part of their arrangement that “real” dates, with potential partners, took precedence over their own standing agreement to escort each other to social events.
And heaven knows, neither of them had anyone else they could count on to unblinkingly agree to attend social events that ranged from staid, respectable, boring golf club functions or office parties, all the way up through much more interesting parties and staged scenes. James was not only up for all that, he had the wardrobe required to step in at a moment’s notice and join her just about anywhere. He was the best accessory ever. She appreciated him, truly she did.
But, she thought now, frowning in annoyance, he had left things awfully late. He had every right to cancel, sure, but she did wish he hadn’t put it off until the last minute like this. Where the hell was she going to lay her hands on a well-dressed, well-trained male sub at a moment’s notice? She firmly quashed the faint, flickering hope of finding an equally suitable Dom instead. That, she well knew, was a nearly impossible task.
In the meantime, there was the much more achievable goal of finding a date for the ball. Honey had thought of the perfect solution.
A while back, she and some friends had attempted to order a sex doll for the shyest, most prim member of their group. It had been supposed to be a prank, but had gone weirdly wrong. The company they had ordered it from, the Living Doll Test Kitchens, had turned out to be some sort of freaky escort service. Instead of a deluxe adult toy, they’d dispatched an actual guy.
Luckily they’d somehow managed to send Delle her perfect man. The last Honey had heard, Delle and the somewhat mysterious Lexan were making wedding plans. Okay, so Honey wasn’t kidding herself that she was expecting that kind of commitment, much less that she’d find anyone via the hire-a-guy route. But, she thought now, surely the LDTK was the perfect place to turn to now, when all she needed was someone presentable in black leather to be her escort for a single evening?
A moment later she was browsing through profiles on the LDTK website. Back when they’d been choosing what they’d thought was a doll for Delle, Honey had found the site a bit strange and sickeningly twee. Creating “personality profiles” for dolls was just a bit too cutesy for her taste. It made slightly more sense now that she knew they were escorts.
But they were still the strangest profiles she’d ever seen. The categories, for instance, made no sense. Astral Wanderer? Reclaimed Demon? Intergalactic Traveler? Honey winced, trying and failing to imagine the degree of sheer crazy that had gone into thinking that one up.
Lexan, the guy they’d sent to Delle’s apartment, had been listed as a “Recently Freed Bondsman,” and his blurb had claimed he’d earned his freedom from servitude, had a memory wipe, and was looking for someone to belong to. Honey and the others had giggled themselves sick over it at the time. Cocktails had been involved -- many, many cocktails. Also, now that she thought about it, probably a little too much sun.
Remembering this now, she felt a slight surge of guilt along with the renewed hilarity. Oh, God, had Delle’s escort showed up expecting some sort of unspeakably silly role-play scenario? If that was the case, then no matter how well her relationship with Lexan was going now, Honey still owed her a whole world of apology for the embarrassment. She scribbled a reminder to herself to send them flowers and a bottle of wine or something. The humiliation must have been extreme, and not in a fun way.
Clicking through the improbable profile categories, Honey stopped suddenly, delighted. Fallen Angel? Now that was more like it. She pulled up the order form and whipped out her credit card.

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