Millie got confused, sometimes.
Her life was pretty simple, so you might expect that wouldn’t happen. Most days were the same - wake up in the morning, then wake up Sir with a long, warm, sloppy blowjob. Offer him her pussy or ass, just in case he’s in the mood. Once he’s done, clean him up, and pick out some sexy lingerie for the morning. Fix his breakfast while he’s in the shower. While he eats, simply sit nearby, looking sexy. Possibly kneel next to him or let him play with her tits, if he feels like it.
After that, Sir leaves for work, and Millie does her chores. Cleaning the whole house, top to bottom. Every thirty minutes, drop what she’s doing and fix her hair and makeup. It’s important to look perfect at all times, after all - that’s what dolls are for.
Once chores are over, practice. Millie turns on Sir’s television, puts his enormous porn-training playlist on shuffle, and watches. Sometimes she just watches and edges herself, making mental notes on things to try. Other times she actively practices - taking out one of her dildos and fucking and sucking along with the girls on screen. She never really decides which to do, she just goes by instinct. Dolls don’t think.
After a while of that, it’s time to make Sir’s dinner. He’ll be home soon. Millie checks her appearance again - of course - and starts cooking. It’s always a pleasant experience - mind and body on autopilot, fulfilling a recipe without thinking.
Soon, Sir is home, and dinner is much like breakfast. Millie serves him, then perches on the counter like a good little ornament while he eats. If he wants, she slides under the table to service him while he has his meal.
In the evening, Millie entertains Sir however he likes. Often, they fuck for a while, then she keeps to herself while Sir does… whatever he does in the evenings. It’s not really her business.
Before bed, Millie kneels down in front of Sir’s chair, and he reinforces her programming. He makes her forget. He reminds her that she is nothing but his doll, his plaything, his eager fuckslave and maidslut and cocktoy. Millie’s mind, soft and pliable, soaks this all up and she never remembers a thing.
Then she goes to sleep, ready for a new day.
So, with such a straightforward life, you’d think Millie would never be confused, never be unsure. But from time to time, she is. Sometimes, she feels anxiety and stress for things she doesn’t understand - something shapeless and huge, something she can’t reconcile. Once, one of Sir’s porn-training videos was about a girl at school, studying for a test. Millie’s stomach was in knots watching it. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was supposed to be there - at school, in class, studying something. But that didn’t make sense.
Another time, she imagined a face. It came from nowhere - while she was cooking dinner, it just appeared, clear as day. A man - a nice, kind face, with shaggy brown hair and friendly eyes. A handsome smile. Dimples. When she pictured it, tears sprang to her eyes.
Millie had no idea who it was, but her heart ached when she thought about the face. It was like a memory with nothing she could attach to it. It just floated in her mind - this strange urge to find that face, go to him. Return to him, somehow.
When she got confused like that, Millie told Sir before bed. And he made sure to scrub her head extra-clean. Old memories didn’t bother her for a good long while, after that. Which was just how Millie liked it.
For bubblepopbimbo, who requested a story with some memory-change action. Hope this satisfies. Thanks for asking.
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