Clitless Archive

My Life As A Doll - by Kellyslarkin

As long as I can remember, I've always wanted to be doll. Ever since I first saw the smooth lines and tiny waist, even before I knew anything about sexuality or attraction, I knew I wanted to look just like that. When I was a teenager, I barely ate, trying to keep my waist as small as possible. I would play with my breasts and hope they would grow. I drank almond milk every day, and would fondle my breasts at night as I fell asleep. In fact, I did this for years even before I discovered masturbation. It made my feel so - lively, I thought at the time. Now, I know that aroused was the proper term. Perhaps all those years of arousal without release did something to me. I still fall asleep the same way.

When I discovered orgasm, my fantasies reached a whole new level. I couldn't believe that anything could feel that good. I used to imagine that was how a doll felt, and that I was a doll when I reached climax. I wanted to experience sex soon after. At first, I was very disappointed. Boys didn't know anything about what they were doing. They didn't get me off. In fact, the whole thing was over so fast, it wasn't really worth it. I never reached orgasm during sex, I kept my orgasm to myself, and would fantasize privately. One day, I asked to be called a fuck doll when having sex. The boy was happy to do so. This turned me on a lot. I still didn't have an orgasm, but he sure did! Seeing how turned on he was, and how fast he came got me off in a different way. He really believed, for a second, that I was a doll. That thought shaped my mind forever.

I cultivated the appearance of a doll more and more. I wore as much makeup as my parents would allow, shorter skirts, higher heels all the time. I got a rich boyfriend and got him to buy me a corset. He thought I was crazy, but he didn't mind all the sex. I would have him lace me tight so I looked like a doll, and fuck him silly. But I never let myself orgasm when I was with him. I realized, if I really wanted to be a total doll, a total toy, that I was there to be his plaything, to let him cum. After all, a doll is just there to be pretty for others to play with. I made it a rule to never have an orgasm during sex. Most boys didn't notice or didn't care. Sometimes, I would fake it. Sometimes, I would tell them I couldn't. A couple I told the truth. They either thought I was crazy, or we fucked all night.

When I went to college, I was pretty much a total slut. I would fuck anyone that was sort of cute. I wore a strict corset and high heels all the time. I had permanent makeup tattooed on me. I had my nipples tattooed to make them appear more rosy and aroused. I would go to sex parties all the time. I had threeways, with boys and girls now too. I still never would let myself cum, that was just for me privately. I got my tongue pierced so I could be better at pleasuring people with oral. And I really began to love being a fucktoy, getting other people off.

I started to play games, to see how long I could go between masturbating myself to orgasm. I found, the longer I went, the more eager I was for sex, and the more aroused I was. Also, the better I came when I finally gave myself release. First, it was days, weeks, and finally months. When I was a junior, I decided to go the entire year without cumming, just once, on my birthday. What a special day that was. It was by far the most amazing orgasm I have ever felt. I knew something special was going to come of that day. When I came, it seemed like minutes, and I knew inside, that this was the beginning of a wonderful transformation - I was really going to make myself into a toy.

What would that mean? From now on, I would exist only to give pleasure to others. I would cultivate a radical and sexy appearance at all times. And most importantly, I would not succumb to the temptations of orgasm. After all, a toy is supposed to be used for other people's pleasure, not their own.

So I was set on my course. I needed to destroy my ability to orgasm. I did some research, and experimented with some trial and error. Banding my clit was good enough to produce some numbness, but it did not last more than a couple weeks. My clit was still sensitive. Some research and trial and error taught me that a regimen of botox and marcaine along with banding was the way to go. I mercilessly injected it every night, banding for at least two hours. After doing this for two weeks, my clit was totally numb. There was no way I was going to be having orgasms with it any more.

But I wanted visible proof that I couldn't get off with my clit - it was going to have to go. I got a friend to help me. We clamped it to stop the blood, cut it off and cauterized it with silver nitrate. She thought I was crazy, but I thanked her in a very special way, and we started a relationship. I saved my clit, preserved it with alcohol and formalin, and encased it in plastic, with a ring. My plan was to wear it through a piercing of my clitoral hood.

Two weeks later, though, I realized that sensation was returning! I was making love with my new girlfriend, and she was trying extra hard to give me pleasure. There must have been some residual sensation in the nerve cluster behind where my clitoris had been, because she almost gave me an orgasm. I actually had to stop her before I got there, quite to our surprise. When she saw how serious I was, she offered to help me. We both noticed that as I got aroused, I got very much more into pleasuring her. And it did feel nice to have some kind of sexual pleasure, as long as it was helping to make me more horny, not giving me some kind of release.

So she decided to help me. She would try as hard as she could to bring me an orgasm, and if she ever started getting successful, we would proceed with more injections. It took about 5 or 6 injections into the site of my scar over the next three weeks to make sure I was good and numb. Just for good measure, we also injected various spots along and inside my vagina, to make sure I couldn't get off with a vibrator.

Imagine my surprise when after all this effort, she asked me if I would really want to have orgasms anyway. Despite all my sexual encounters, I had never given or had a G-spot massage before. She assured me it could bring me the most intense orgasms possible, it just took a little getting used to. She showed me the technique, and had me practice on her. Wow, combining that with clitoral stimulation, I was able to give her orgasms lasting minutes, and multiple orgasms like that for hours at a time. I had no idea it was possible. Finally, she offered to demonstrate on me.

Now this was a real shocker. I had imagined that I was already incapable of orgasm. Ten minutes with her finger on my g-spot proved me wrong. This was to be my greatest test. I was right at the brink of cumming for the first time in years, since my last great orgasm on my birthday. I was trying so hard not to fall over the edge into orgasm, and she was bringing me there. It was going to be extremely intense - my whole body started trembling and I had shivers going all over my skin. And then she stopped. "What are you doing," I asked?

"I thought you didn't want to have orgasms anymore," she beamed back, batting her eyes at me. "Now get to work." She rested her pussy on my face, and I happily began to lick away. Even more so when she started fingering my g-spot again, just enough to keep me horny and motivated. "Now, you wanted it this way," she said, "so we're going to make sure that the only orgasms you are enjoying are mine. I want you to be my pleasure doll." When she said that, she came, gushingly so, for minutes as I let her sweet and musky juices run down all over my face and neck, rubbing them into my breasts, and onto my own pussy. It felt so good and so erotic to be stimulated like that, knowing that after everything we had done, she alone had the power to give me orgasms. She just wasn't going to do it. And the erotic power of her words launched my mind on a supertrip - my heart racing, I wondered if I actually might be having an orgasm, but it was just my heart beating really fast. I really enjoyed her orgasms now.

Afterwards, she carefully injected my g-spot with botox. Just in case, you know, so we don't have any accidents. I had terribly conflicted feelings about this now. Now that I had thought I couldn't have an orgasm, I wanted one more than ever. I had already decided, but now I was given a second chance. And she had given me just enough of a taste to whet my appetite. But I waited patiently, as she slowly destroyed my remaining sexual sensation, injecting me every couple of days, and keeping me good and aroused in between. After a month, we tried again, really hard, to give me an orgasm. We did everything possible - stimulating as much of my vulva as possible, my nipples, clitoral scar, g-spot, using vibrators, even suction pumping. It really was final this time. I had achieved my goal - no more orgasms.

I confessed to her my secret desire for the past month - that she would actually bring me all the way to orgasm. And she confessed to me as well - she knew that. It was obvious, from the way I first responded when she stroked my g-spot. But what she wanted even more, was for me to not have that orgasm. She had taken away the thing that she knew I wanted more than ever, simply because the idea of me being permanently desperate, yet being content with just enjoying her orgasms was a big turn-on for her. We made love one last time, but after our confessions, we both knew our relationship had reached its climax. She trained me, conquered me, and set me free, a happy, loving, beautiful doll who will be horny and unsatiated for all eternity.

I truly exist only to give pleasure to others, and I do it all the time. My body no longer has any orgasmic sensation at all - I still have sensation in my genitals - my vagina has similar sensations to my mouth, and when a penis is inside me, it feels very much like a french kiss - very nice, but you have to really close your eyes and visualize the passion into it, because there is sensation, just not any real sexual sensation to it. The sexual part of it comes from knowing that you are there, pleasing your partner. My clitoral scar and my g-spot still have some sensation, about the same as my nipples - enough to remind me of what it feels like, but not enough to get me there. I actually had my clitoris preserved in bio-plastic, with a small ring set into it. Yes, you guessed it. I had my hood pierced, and I wear my clit dangling there, right over my clit scar. I've taken to showing off with it, as I usually have to explain why I have a removable clit, and that is always fun. Most of my lovers think I'm crazy, until they find out how nice it is to have a permanently horny nympho, who will do anything and everything to please them, especially one who demands nothing - actually who can't demand any pleasure in return. Meaning I must get all of my sexual pleasure from giving them greater and more wonderful orgasms. And especially one with a sexy hot body like me, large breasts, a tiny corsetted waist, and lovely stockinged legs, that when spread, reveal a lovely vagina - missing just one thing, with a smooth scar between my clitoral hood.

My relationships might not last long, but I leave knowing I have given my partners something truly special - a gift that only a doll can give. I'm very, very happy with my sex life, even if that might be hard for you to imagine. I very much enjoy being a fucktoy, always looking for my next partner, and never being able to relieve my sexual tension. When I don't have anyone to sleep with at night, I fall asleep rubbing my scar, imagining my last orgasm and how good it felt, then falling asleep slowly, fading out as I realize - I am a doll. Dolls exist for other people's pleasure.