Mommy feeling super guilty the next morning when she sobers up. She doesn't talk about it, or what she did, but you can tell by the way she avoids looking at you.
She takes you out shopping to buy you treats and a new stuffie.
Later in the day, you see her pouring away the alcohol she keeps under the sink. You can hear her softly crying while she does so. She quietly tells herself she will never ever drink again, never ever hurt you again.
Before you go to bed in the evening, you go to a hidden spot in your closet. Feeling extremely guilty, you pull out a bottle of vodka. Sneaking to the kitchen, you half-hide it on the counter, making it seem like she just missed it.
Taking a cutie clothes shopping. Helping them into and out of outfits in the dressing room. Getting increasingly touchy and listening to their cute noises.
Acting completely innocent as they start to whine. "What is it, sweetie? Mommy is just trying to help you find an outfit."
Continuing to play innocent until they're forced to admit what they want.
"Ohhhh, someone's all excited? Goodness, what a slutty little thing you are, getting so horny in public. Well, I can't have you being this frustrated when we have so much to do today."
Telling them to turn around, and pulling some lube out of my bag (because of course I came prepared), then pulling the clothes they're trying on aside and lubing them up.
"Be quiet for me, baby. We don't want anyone to overhear how much of a slut you are."
Life since I got back from that scary Institute place has been so much better. It was frightening being there. The staff told me I was having all these bad thoughts, that I was misremembering things, like-
graduating university, having a job, and other silly things I couldn't possibly have done. I felt so guilty for my brain being broken, but also a crippling loneliness. The staff were nice, even if the place felt really scary.
Thankfully, they eventually helped me to remember my Daddy. I can't believe I forgot about him. I still feel guilty about it. Despite how fear-inducing the Institute could be, the staff were so proud and encouraging when I remembered things correctly.
"You look so pretty all tied up spread eagle for Mommy, babygirl." My eyes scan over every inch of your body. From the tips of your toes, to the ropes around your ankles, to your squirmy crotch, to your beautiful face.
"Mamaaa," you whine, weakly pushing your crotch towards me.
"Oh, does my special little angel want attention?" I sit myself down on the bed next to you.
You give a discontented whine in response.
"What was that, cutie? I have some ideas about what you might want, but I'd hate to be mistaken." I don't hide my smirk.
"Mamaaaaaa!" You whine, louder this time.
"Use your words, baby. Mommy wants to hear you say it." A sure fire way to fluster you.
The whiny sounds you make tell me how desperate you already are. The squirming and pulling on your restraints only adds to my delight.
#doll#dolls#emptyspaces#nsfwtwt Part 1 has no/little doll stuff depending where I cut it. Setup. Dark, moves into wholesome sfw?
You should've known better than to go off into the woods alone. "There's werewolves, Nightstalkers,-
gruesome predators, and those are just the ones that will kill you! There's a lot of fates worse than death the deeper you tread," they had told you, over and over. You always were headstrong, even to the point of being foolhardy.
For the first few hours trekking through the woods, you smugly congratulate yourself. There is nothing dangerous out here. It didn't matter if there was nothing important either. Proving your friends back home right would be satisfying enough. You always were smug.
Mommy bursting into your room. You can smell the alcohol on her, even from a distance. You know what's coming. Drunkenly, mommy slides under your covers. Despite how used to it you are, you still squirm and cry, but she's much too strong for you.
"I'm sorry, baby. Please just relax. Mama...Mama needs this." You can hear the guilt in her voice, not that that makes it any better. With your face buried in the pillow, you can only hear her spitting, before her wet hand finds its way between your legs.
Her fingers continue, getting you ready. It takes even more spit, yet she's able to open you up enough for her. not enough for you, of course. but you have little choice in the matter when she's this wasted. She always feels guilty afterwards, but that hardly makes up for it.