Finishing School

[script offer] [M4F] Finishing School [RAPE] [Mdom] [evil makeovers] [misogyny] [sexism] [forced fem???] [tomboy breaking] [dehumanization]



[I'm imagining this narrator mostly vacillating between irritated and condescending in tone]

Oh, no, this won't do at all. No. I see why they gave you to me.

No, everything about you is wrong. That hair... [sigh] No cure for that but time. I'll have someone come in tomorrow and see if extensions are possible until your natural beauty has grown back. No. Who ever heard of a doll with short hair?

Your face... Where's your makeup, darling? Do you think you can just stand in front of me with your bare face, making no effort to please me? No one wants to see that. I should look at you and know you spent hours thinking about how to be pretty for me.

Speaking of standing... I suppose, technically, you have decent posture. Why is it you look like a soldier instead of a lovely little dancer? Mmm. Something about that awful face, again, I think. A good girl should be shy, and look down, not stare me in the face so crassly. A good girl knows she's weak, and men's tempers are dangerous.

[multiple slaps]

-My- temper is dangerous. Look at the floor. Remember you are a delicate, pretty, -breakable- thing. You've been allowed to run around like a wild animal, but that stops now.

Open your hands. Dolls don't make fists like that. You don't -fight-. Don't let me catch you doing that again. You don't even think of fighting me or anyone. You will behave with -grace.-

Show me your hands. Mmm. The salon did good work, hiding those nasty, chewed up things. See how lovely they are, with your callouses filed down, and pretty long nails? You don't make fists. If you snap off one on those nails, I will beat you until the rest of them come off, too.

Now, I let you keep your clothes, while I sent out for these, but it's time for them to go. It's disgusting, seeing you dressed like a boy. I don't ever, ever want to see my doll without a skirt on again. No, put them directly in the trash. You will never see them again.

[indrawn breath]

You have hair. Why do you--the most simple, basic, obvious thing, and you failed at it. Dolls aren't -hairy-. You will fix that tonight. Get some panties on. Make sure the bra matches. You should never wear anything without thinking about if it's pretty for me. Now the dress.

Sit on the bed, I'll pick your shoes.

I don't like that face. Fix it.

Better. You're -happy- to be dressed by me. Dolls like to be played with. Girls like to please men.

There. Now, I hope this isn't necessary, but I'm going to be kind and take your temptation away. They told me you can't walk in heels--which is pathetic, by the way, at your age--and you're never going to learn if you're allowed to take them off. So this little ankle strap here? It locks. You should walk laps around the room when I'm not playing with you, The faster you learn to walk like a real girl, the sooner you get these off.

That's a little better. Still more sow's ear than silk purse, I'm afraid. [sigh] No good dressing you up if what's inside is all rotten. How dare you look -angry-? All you have to do is be a good little girl and you'll be taken care of, and you look angry? How dare you?

[slap. maybe more than one. Not a light one, either. Mr Narrator is NOT happy]

We've been so -patient- with you. Taking in a nasty, wild little brat like you, teaching you manners, teaching you how to be a real girl, buying you these dresses, and you -still- look at me with that disrespectful face? Do you -want- to go back to the basement?

[pause. a slightly more mollified tone]

That's better. Yes, dolls are allowed to cry. Good. Remember you're weak, and small, and you should hope that men take pity on you.

A -little-, cry a -little-, that's not cute, God, how are you messing this up, too? I'm sick of you. Turn over. Put that disgusting face in a pillow and lift your skirt up. I can't get hard looking at that, and if you aren't going to get me hard, what good are you?

-Faster-. Pull your panties down.

[belt unbuckling sounds]

If you won't be good and sweet, then you can't expect men to be good to you, either. Cry into the pillow, don't mess up your outfit.

[grunting, whatever sort of noise you find appropriate for someone pushing inside a woman who is not ready]

-God-, at least you're tight.

[rest of this delivered while fucking someone fairly roughly, so, you know, tone as would be appropriate]

You know, if you hadn't been so disrespectful, I was going to use lube. Good dolls only get hurt as much as it takes to please me. But you don't deserve that. You deserve to hurt. Until you learn to be a real girl, you deserve to get bent over and rutted like a dog.

In the pillow, I said. I don't want to see your face. Aren't you ashamed? You should be.

Take it. Do -something- right. Be a good doll.

[improv to orgasm]

[heavy breathing, coming down]

That's it. That's better. Are you done crying? A few tears are cute on a girl, but no one wants to see some snotty mess. Wipe your face off.

Look at me.

Mmm. That's better. That's what I like to see on a doll's face. Open up. Lick me clean, you got blood on me.

[satisfied noise]

There you go. That's what a pretty little mouth is for. Not looking sullen, not speaking out of turn, not raising your voice. You -never- raise your voice.

Alright, that's enough.

[sounds of a man putting himself back in order, if you care to]

Much better. Looking at the floor, like a good, shy girl. It's not so hard, is it? Just be a sweet little doll and let the men handle the rough work. I know you can do it.

Now. I gave you some gifts today. What do good girls say, when men give them gifts?

You're welcome. Practice in those shoes, when I leave. Now kiss me goodbye, if you want dinner tonight.