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Lez Lewis

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A Doll's Story
by Lez Lewis   

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Copyright:  June 6, 2011 ISBN-13:  9780986634529

A Doll's Story
A Doll's Story

An erotic BDSM adventure

A Doll's Story is an explicitly erotic adventure in a defined BDSM context.
Designed to delight.
It is meant to appeal to those who delve into delectable deviance, A Doll's story outlines and addresses an adventure environment that allows for magical and demonic endeavors. This explicitly and erotically sexual book examines Domination and submissiveness within the context of a role play world where ‘the magic your mother never told you about’ is alive and well.

The Fall and Rise of Merr StahlRhune
This is the first book in the series. It tells the tale and sets the stage of Merr's arrival in the strange land called London and her fall into submission and slavery. All this is done in an explicit BDSM environment that also includes erotic magic.
Please note: This book is written exclusively for adult readers only and for this reason the care in handling and storage of all volumes is respectfully requested.

Chapter One:
The First Awakening
In the foggy darkness preceding the predawn light of London, a nightingale, trilling from the roof of a building looks down into the plaza below. The nightingale, eyes of ruby nearly iridescent red, sees a portion of the fog take on a glowing almost supernaturally intense brightness that gradually coalesces into a recognizable form. This form has the appearance of a statue that may represent a young girl. A statue, of a beautiful girl with golden blond hair, stands stiff and alone, waiting for the predawn light. A frozen figure, immobile until she coughs, quivers and opens her eyes. The nightingale, startled by the change, flexes his legs, leaps upward, spinning around as he opens his wings to fly quickly away.
There was nothing until my first sensation, the dewy almost clammy coolness of morning air on my skin. Something catches in my throat, so I cough and open my eyes into a gentle predawn light. Quickly glancing around, I can see nothing move and no one else in the small courtyard. I’m just standing there alone.
My name is Merr, Merr StalhRhune, I’m 21 years old, but there is nothing else. My memory is like a bare and empty cupboard; where there should have been, where there must have been, memories of friends, family, and history there is nothing. I just know my age and my name, Merr, nothing more. Try as I might I can not remember how I got to where I am, or even where I have been before. There is nothing in my memory to recall; nothing at all.
Looking around, trying to see in the dim morning light I find myself standing in the center of a short, dead end empty street bordered by three buildings, not a single thing I see is familiar; I am left without a clue as to where I am or even how I got here. Fighting down a wave of panic, frantically I scan myself while I look around for anything that could help or harm me. My hopes of finding out even hints of what could be happening to me are at war with the feelings of being in danger and the need for safety. I take deep breaths to steady my nerves and to steel myself as I start to examine the world around me.
It is semi-dark with the first glimpse of dawn’s blush beginning to arrive. I can see that I’m in an empty, cobble stoned plaza or courtyard with only one exit. Looking further, I find it holds three doors at street level; as well, there are several second storey barred windows for each door.
Moving into a shadowy corner, I feel somewhat comforted by having two walls to my back, while I continue my constant scanning of the small plaza. Frantically searching for anything that might give me a clue as to what has happened to me; I start to examine what I’m carrying. Looking into my pockets, my pouches and my pack, I desperately want to find something, anything I can remember. There is little except: a pair of thin daggers, a large heavy wooden and metal hammer; a wood handled tool with sharp metal hooks and a small bag of coins.
Looking at the tools I can see that they show no signs of wear, and appear to have been recently made as they are still clean and have an unblemished sheen to them. The daggers are matched with leaf shaped blades and short white bone handles. Holding them, strangely I feel that the handles are too short to hold comfortably or to use for cutting. I proceed to check the coins; the coins are heavy, small and somewhat worn with their one time silvery luster only imaginable, but no longer truly visible. One side shows the crowned head of a cruel looking man while the other side holds a whip crossed by a sword. I don’t know what these are for; I don’t know why I’m here or why I’m carrying them. These items only pose more questions than answers. Feeling the trickle of a cold sweat running down the small of my back, I focus on my clothes.
Meticulously examining the material of my clothing, trying desperately to take my mind off of my fears, I find that I’m dressed in a thin blouse, under a light leather jacket. These are both made of a coarse rough material, in a brown-green shade, the same color as the sturdy pants and shoes that cover me below my waist. Under garments were there, and feel to be of a similar course material; but perhaps, if they are of the same lack luster shade as the rest of my clothes, best left unseen.
Scared, puzzled, huddling in the corner my fears overwhelms me. I begin to cry softly, not knowing what to do or where to go. My fears seem to rise up in bubble after bubble of panic, fright and confusion. I stay sitting there sobbing while the sun rises higher in the sky, until its movement finally steals away the shade I’m hiding in. I have to take hold of my emotions; I say aloud to myself, “Oh now there’s a good idea Merr, just plop yourself down in a corner bawling your eyes out. Crying is not going to make you remember anything; and it is not likely that you’re going to have someone wander in, just to answer all your questions!”
It is hard to get hungry when you’re crying but I did it; worse than that I was also got thirsty and even a bit chilled sitting in the morning sun. Wiping my eyes, once again I give myself a mental shake before telling myself for the second time, that not even a good old fashioned cry can give me the information and sustenance, I so desperately need. Finally controlling the panic, rising above the tears and confusion I realize that it is up to me to explore, in order to begin to understand, where and what I am.
I don’t know what has happened. I just don’t have any understanding of where or even who I am. But I am getting hungry and thirsty. Licking my parched lips without relief, my thirst makes me realize that I do not have the luxury of feeling sorry for myself any longer. Locating food and drink will have to be my first task. Finding out the rest can and must wait. I can only hope that in doing this, what I want and need to know will be discovered.
Hardening myself, I rise and carefully move to the entrance of the plaza. I force myself to concentrate on my surroundings, in the hope of finding the food and water, without breaking into tears again.
Carefully peering out of the plaza into the street, I can see that across a larger road, there is a park-like forest. Ahead in the forest appear to be trees with fruit and ripened pods hanging from many branches. Those pods and fruits look good to eat and no one seemed to be around except for some half-seen figures deeper into the forest. The street itself is clean, but somehow shabby with the odd cobblestone or curbstone missing. While the light breeze does blow some old dead leaves around, there is no other movement in the deserted street. There is a dank smell, and what maybe a blood stains on the ground, suggesting it would be appropriate to be extra careful around here.
The buildings seem to be crowded, even too close together, with occasional narrow dark alleyways. Unlike the plaza where I had first found myself, these alleys are far too narrow for someone to even slide between; while at the same time it appears that windblown trash and litter has piled deeply into the spaces between the houses.
Moving towards the park like forest, eager to leave this depressing street, my hunger and thirst drive me to try to gather or at least taste some of the pods and fruits
Walking between two stone pillars I enter the park; the amazing forest air is clean and fresh, brimming with the aromas of trees and grasses. This air holds none of the dankness of the street, and seemed to welcome me in. I find myself walking on soft earth, through grasses that at full height, only extend up to just past my ankles. There is some shade from the larger trees but most of the vegetation seems to be shorter and almost brush like, but all this I ignore as my central quest for is something to eat and drink.
Finally, after reaching a tree and jumping up to grab a long pod hanging almost out of my reach in the branches; I first smell, then nibble a small portion, only to realize, with not a little disappointment, that the hard pod while flavorful would need preparation. I reach up grabbing another pod for later, tucking both pods under my arm, and then move further into the forest to get at some of the fruits. Picking several deep yellow, elongated globes from a tree, and tasting one; I am truly gratified by the crisp, rich pear flavor filling my mouth. Eating one completely, letting the rich juice spill down my chin as it escapes from my lips, I rejoice in the succulence of its thirst quenching brightness. First licking the juice from each of my fingers individually, and then even sucking every drop away, before then reaching for more.
As I look up, I start to become concerned, when I realize several of the formerly half seen figures seem to be moving towards me. Looking closer, I can see that they are a strange mixture of more or less human males along with some creatures who could hardly even be called semi-human, this combination of almost zombie like creatures are moving in a mechanical fashion towards me. So when I see that each is carrying a foot-long curved blade, I start to quietly move in the opposite direction.
They’ve seen me! They charge, waving their blades in a jerky fury. Jumping back, turning, then running desperately, carrying several pods and some fruit. I can’t go as fast as they can and soon find myself dodging to evade the slashing blades of the first five attackers. Running as fast as I can, trying to move away from the creatures I realize that I have been flanked. Dodging the swinging of a blade on my right, allows a human like man’s blade to slash my left arm. The biting pain, the blood from the wound, the shock of the sudden attacks makes me run even faster, but still other blades bite. My right leg is now bleeding badly; I can feel where my back has been cut, as well; panic and pain drives me on, stumbling and running. I throw some pods to the left and fruit to the right, then drop the rest in front of me, jumping over the small pile and am rewarded to hear the confusion of tumbling bodies behind me. Then I really stretch myself, running desperately, not watching my footing, but merely dodging the trees and bushes in front of me until finally, I frantically lunge back into the street.
There is now a tall man in the street, wearing dark heavy clothing that does not seem to have noticed my plight. Screaming to him in desperation, while running toward him, I hear the footfalls of those behind me drawing closer. I scream once more.
“Please help me!”
I see him look up. He looks at me, his face lights up, alive with a cruel maniacal grin. He raises both of his hands; I feel a wave of heat that blasts right past me. I’m staggered by a hot explosive force behind me and looking back I see the attackers surrounded in a raging ball of flame. Looking at him I see him move with the same economy of motion that a predator would use. Taking few or no visible precautions, he walks over and almost casually kills the survivors with a long curved blade.
I step back in horror at what I have just seen. I watch him lick the blood from his blade before wiping it on a sleeve and replacing it. But the look he gives me, the lecherous smile and cold cruel laugh, send a spasm of fear through me. He has just killed those who chased me, this is good, but now I am his prey.
He leers at me and I take a step back. He gestures for me to come. In horror, I see him reach around behind, bringing out a pair of handcuffs, then with his other hand grab his crotch, while he licks his lips, looking at me in the most appallingly avaricious way. His words are hard cold and commanding “Come here now girl! Or you’re going to wish you had!”
Still tired and bleeding, I desperately turn, and see a corner further down the street. I can’t let him handcuff me, so I run. I run with every bit of strength I can find, searching for an escape, running now, not just for fear of my life, but from a man I have to believe is a cold and a cruelly murderous predator. Realizing for the first time, the fiends of the forest are perhaps not the only monsters or even the worst fiends here today, my feet fairly fly over the bumpy cobblestones.
Before I ran for my life, now I seek only safety, a place of refuge from the residents of this frightening place I have found myself in. I’m now running full out, desperately gasping for air, my blood landing on the cobblestones as it spills from my many slashes. Hearing the man call to me again, I look back, not really seeing where I’m going. I’m running hard to make the corner hoping to find a place to hide.
The man behind me is not gaining, but he is still coming. I push myself, reaching past my pain and fatigue; delving deep inside myself for the speed I need. The uneven cobblestones are now my enemy, every foot fall is a struggle. I teeter to balance myself, as I must keep going, but am forced to slow and watch my footing. The edges of my vision are getting hazy. Each stride weakens me and hurts more than the last. I have to get away, I’m going as fast as I can but know I’m losing strength quickly. As I turn the corner I look back to see how far he is behind me.
Impact! My body stops dead as I collide with a woman in hard armor, hurting myself as I hit her head on. I feel her hands grab my arms hard and hold me tight.

Chapter 2
The First Command
Nearby another is moving, but not in the panicked desperation of Merr. As Mistress Copper strolls along, she finds for once that she is neither hurried nor worried. The tall proud woman only having the need to get some air to clear her head after a night of lovely foods, intoxicating drink, and being wrapped in the loving arms of those who adore her. She walks with a satiated aura and a contented smile as she saunters down a street just past the Greenwich bank. Her self satisfied glow is disturbed when she hears the distinctive CUURMPH of a fireball going off. Looking round the corner she sees a young girl, in the shabby clothing of a new arrival.
This one looks like she has already been to the wars. She has numerous bloody wounds, but is also quite a cute, busty, golden haired blonde and is running as if her life depends on it. Mistress Copper also sees a local pimp and slaver, purposefully striding after the girl. Stepping back to one side and taking a deep breath, she prepares herself. Seeing how close the pimp is, she estimates that she has little time to convince the girl to come with her. At the very last possible second, she steps out, fully in front of the girl and takes hold of her arms firmly.
I’m stunned by the impact! When I look at the one who has caught me, I see a tall red haired woman holding my arms. She smiles at me warmly, not like the man’s leer. I feel her gaze, as she looks at me with concern, rather than with the man’s greed and lust. Caught in the woman’s arms, I sob and fall forward saying, “Help me please!”
Looking once more behind me, seeing the man still approaching, I turn to look up into her eyes and cling to her, rather than try to fight free.
The woman looking at me gestures and intones a single word. The pains from my wounds are gone! Surprised I look down at my arm and see the ragged slash close itself and heal. Shocked and surprised I look at her holding my arms once again, and see my rescuer calmly examining me. A slow inviting smile appears on the woman’s lips.
Suddenly, the armored woman moves so fast, I barely see the whip that I feel wrapping around my throat. My eyes go wide in renewed panic, while trying to grab at the whip binding my throat. In vain I struggle hard to pull free, but stop when I hear a soft but insistent hiss in my ear.
“Girl, you need to come with me now, to safety and supper or stay here and be used.” The tall woman continues by urging, “Come my dear, I’m going to help you survive but we must hurry.”
Looking into her eyes I see no deceit, only worry. I can hear close by, the labored breathing, thudding footfalls and the angry shouts of the man pursuing me. In the back of my mind, I can almost see the beasts with bloodied blades from the forest, as I slam ‘door number one’. The slam of ‘door number two’ echoes shortly after and keeps out the maniacal man with manacles. Nodding to the woman, gulping out the words in agreement, I finally sob out “Please help me! I only want to be safe.” Thinking to myself, I guess, I just chose ‘door number three’.
My horror further eases as she pulls me away from the man in pursuit. We break into a quick jog, her supporting most of my weight, nearly carrying me as we rapidly move down a street. Our frantic rushing finally stops at the door of a large structure where I’m pushed into the shadowy doorway by the woman. My fears ease again when I hear the words whispered into my ear.
“Come with me girl, you need to be groomed and trained, not abused and maimed by one such as he.”
Looking up into her face, I swallow hard and nod, accepting her direction once again. Weakened by my wounds, the run had exhausted every last bit of my strength. When she releases her hold on me by turning to the door and letting her whip fall free, I slump back against the wall. I watch as iron bound doors open to her key revealing a windowless hallway inside.
Looking back, as if to ensure I was still there, she smiles gently and loosely takes my arm, urging me into a hallway lit by flickering lamps. Preceding me, my rescuer holds my arm more firmly and I find myself being led down the passage. We move past several closed doors, to the blank and bare dead end. There to my surprise a concealed door opens to her word, gesture and touch. Partly pulling, partly guiding me, the tall red haired woman brings me through the concealed door. She gestures with her fingers, speaks more of a sound than a word, and the door slams shut with a dull thud and the sound of a lock falling into place.
Releasing my arm, she turns to me and smiles almost eagerly. She then commands, “Let me look at you girl!”
Waiting for a moment, frowning slightly, she steps away, walking all the way around me. Stopping in front of me, she begins to tap her toe impatiently and says “I want to see all of you” then after a short pause she continues in almost a growl “Strip Girl, Now!”
My eyes open wide, my jaw drops in surprise and amazement. I feel like the floor has dropped out from under me. Too startled by the sudden change in her manner even to respond I just stand there, dumbfounded at the order I have been given. How could this be happening? I had trusted her and she had saved me from that horrible man, now she wanted me to strip off all my clothes. Feeling the hot tears of the betrayal well up in my eyes, I glance from side to side to see if there was a way out of here. There is no escape from my rescuer. There is only myself and her.
She steps closer to me and with hard steely eyes, her gaze bores into me with a captivating intensity. I just can’t prevent myself from taking a step backwards.
“Stay!” she commands.
I freeze like an animal caught in a hunter’s lights, paralyzed, unable to move. I feel myself shrinking from her now in fright.
She speaks softly, but with so much force, her meanings cannot be misunderstood.
“Can you get food for yourself?
I lowering my eyes, I shake my head and very quietly say “No.”
The woman continues drawing closer as if to underline every word.
“Do you know your own name?”
Softly I whisper “Merr”
“Can you begin to look after yourself here?”
Once again I shake my head and quietly say “No.”
Then the woman, with her face scant inches from mine, so close I can feel her hot breath as she speaks the words.
“If you are to survive here you will need to do what I say, when I say it, and how I say. Isn’t that right girl?”
I know she is right. The small part of the morning I have endured, has already convinced me I need help. Choking back a sob, I try to be brave and answer slowly with both a nodding of my head, with that one fateful word.

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