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Domestic Doll Services: The Billionaire & The Bimbos

By Barbara R. Wetzel


Copyright 2018 Barbara R. Wetzel


License Notes

This book is fiction. Every name, place, character, and event are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is pure coincidence.


This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


Author's note: All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.


Table of Contents


Domestic Doll Services: The Billionaire & The Bimbos: John Davidson, self made, in his own estimation at least, billionaire, is fed up with his current girlfriend, the vapid pop star Savannah Sweetness. Twice divorced already, her uppity attitudes have grown old and, bored with her, he turns his eye towards her college dropout, activist, daughter Melanie, who has just returned to the fold after being shamed out of her college after a falling out with the activist crowd. With the help of Domestic Doll Services, John is able to get the women in his life to see that their duty and purpose to is to be good, obedient, bimbos.


Excerpt From Domestic Doll Services: Guilt Alleviation


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About The Author


Author's Note


Other Stories Written By Barbara R. Wetzel


Coming Soon


Bonus Story: Employee Reorientation

Chapter One

Kaylie Cullen stood on the auction floor alone. Mrs. Cullen had been Kaylie MacPherson, introverted scion of a climate destroying oil conglomerate. She inherited the company after her father's sudden death and had given it all up to marry her husband William Cullen, who was the CEO of Domestic Doll Services. They gave her fortune away to charity and she settled into the happy life of a docile housewife. DDS offered lifelike assistants for a variety of domestic and public resource uses. As society became more automated, the need for full time workers was further alleviated by Domestic Dolls.

Oh, right, they were also used for sex. It is probably important to mention that at this point.

The Cullen household was filled with Domestic Dolls. Mrs. Cullen's personal assistant Isleen was a Domestic Doll as was their maid, cook, and driver. Kaylie now ran a charitable service, mostly in an honorific sense, she did drop by the office once a week, that helped at risk young women get their lives right to find success as women in the modern world. They had Domestic Dolls as counselors, with some human supervision, and their security also came from DDS via their new Domestic Doll Soldiers line.

Today, however, Kaylie was seeking a Domestic Doll for sex. She had asked her husband for permission to purchase a new Doll for their home. He had been going on various trips recently on DDS business that kept him away for extended periods of time. While her personal assistant was an amusing distraction, she thought of Isleen as a sister in service to their Master and less as some kind of fuck doll. What Kaylie wanted now was someone, a woman, of course, who would live for her pleasure. Of course, they could also rent her out when not needed and eventually flip the Doll into a profitable sale if a buyer, male or female, becomes fascinated by the Doll. Kaylie did get bored with the toys Master gave her.

She leaned against a wall reading messages from her work account. Despite much of the job at the foundation being honorific, there were still decisions to be made and details she wanted to be involved in. Her very short pixie cut blonde hair framed a small face that also wore black glasses. A sweater dress, stockings, and pumps accentuated her increasingly toned body and an impressively augmented chest. No matter how large her breasts were, or how hard her trainer worked her, at the end of the day Kaylie was a wallflower and an introvert. She would rather do work than socialize any day of the week.

After a few minutes of being left alone, a middle aged man approached her with a wave. Kaylie ceased texting and smiled at him, which she had been trained to do. Her default focus was always on men, but especially if they were going to purchase a Domestic Doll. That helps her husband, which was the duty she lived by. She forgot about her phone and placed her manicured hands in front as trained.

“Hi,” the man began. He had blond, slightly graying, hair and an awkward smirk on his face. His expression seemed familiar to Mrs. Cullen. Kaylie's retinal scanner alerted her that he was John Davidson the billionaire scion of the founder of a leading health care company. Unlike her rejection of the selfish, planet destroying, values of her own father's company, Davidson had gleefully taken up the mantle of his daddy's company and inherited it when he died. He had already gone through hundreds of millions of his father's money and after two divorces was now dating some pop star. She internally rolled her eyes at his inability to not stare at her chest.

“Oh, hello, um...” She feigned not knowing who he was to hide the fact that she had, indeed, been converted, at her request, to a Domestic Doll to help purgate herself of the sins of her family. Kaylie's conditioning was, according to Mr. Cullen, one of the easiest due to her enthusiasm for it.

“John, uh, John Davidson,” he replied with a very firm handshake. If Kaylie's skin was not coated with an unseen nanite fiber to avoid injury, it probably would have hurt her a lot. What is it with men and handshakes? Macho men bored her.

“Kaylie Cullen.” She stared to him blanky from behind her black glasses. Just outside of their view, workers began bringing in the Domestic Dolls for sale. Each was gently posed while in the “off” position.

“Oh yeah,” John said with a chuckle, “you're the one who is married to one of the heads of this whole thing. You gave up all that oil money. I thought that was a mistake.” He kept staring at her chest.

Kaylie internally tensed up at his forward nature. Men were so rude. “Well it all went to charity. We've started--”

“Charity,” he scoffed, “yeah I have a few of those. Good for tax credits!” He grinned in a way that was clear he was quite impressed with himself. His lawyer had gotten a bit uppity with him about some of the more creative deductions he had come up with, and after a trip to Domestic Doll Services she had begun to see it his way and now eagerly worked to keep his money where it belonged, which was in his bank account and not those idiots in the government.

Kaylie went to respond, but the auctioneer began the auction. She already knew which...product...had caught her eye and would be bought tonight, so the pixie haired Domestic Doll wife decided to step back and observe the room. There were about twenty people, men besides one woman, in the room preparing to make bids. Most had done prep work beforehand, so they were just waiting for their turn. However, one person was still making decisions.

John remained standing where he was, shifting awkwardly, staring at the Domestic Dolls being wheeled onto the stage. Each was frozen in place, mostly at attention, but a few were posed differently. When Kaylie looked over at him, she was stunned to notice the hard on barely hidden by his pants. He seemed unaware of it because his focus was on staring at the frozen Domestic Dolls on the stage. Did he get sexually excited by that? In her time married to William, she had heard about some...odd...fetishes, for sure, so Kaylie just giggled to herself and waited for the Doll she sought to purchase was brought onto stage.

Kaylie's Doll was the last one of the night. The Doll was German and Polish with long, blonde, hair, and deep green eyes. Her permanent, slight, tan brought out beautiful cheekbones and a pouty mouth. Mrs. Cullen had a virtually unlimited budget for this purchase, so she doubled an opening bid plus a little more to make sure she won the auction and did, easily, win the purchase. Beyond the bid being quite high, the other buyers deferred to her due to their business dealings, if you will, with her husband.

Once the purchase was confirmed, the Doll blinked into life and swayed over to her new Mistress in a pink dress, white stockings, and high heels the same color as her dress. She bowed, slowly, and rather sensually, rose back up, and then softly smiled. “Mrs. Cullen, this Domestic Doll has been purchased by Mr. Cullen to aide you in pleasing him. How will she serve?”

Kaylie ran a hand over her deeply feminine face. She loved the idea of the money not being hers. Having financial independence just sounded exhausting. Why would any woman want that? “Please report for personalized conditioning. I am staying over tonight and will pick you up tomorrow morning.” She leaned in and gently kissed the Doll. It swayed away to obey the command.

Kaylie watched for a moment and then went to say goodbye to a few people she knew. You began to see the same sorts of people at these events and others were known to her through William, so there were many who were familiar to her. She was a very introverted person, but did enjoy coming out to these kinds of events sometimes. If anxiety flowed her body, the Domestic Doll could always run a pleasant programming script to get through a social situation.

John was on the other side of the room trying to chat up another woman who had purchased a female Domestic Doll. It was pretty clear this was because she was not interested in the Y chromosome, but that did not stop him from hitting on her. Kaylie came over, said hello to the woman, who she had met previously, and gave her a chance to leave, which she gave the blonde Domestic Doll a grateful smile for in return that had a hint of flirtation in it.

“Hey, why didn't you buy a Doll?” At this point, Kaylie was genuinely curious about his reasoning given his hard-on earlier.

“Oh,” he said with a dismissive, distracted, shrug, “I decided I didn't want any! They just didn't have what I want I guess.” The last few words came out like a pout.

“Huh,” Kaylie replied after a moment. They said their goodbyes and John gave her an awkward wave. The blonde Domestic Doll humanitarian barely remembered the conversation after it ended. She could not wait to return to the feet of her wonderful husband and Master.

After taking the elevator to the private parking lot for...special...clients of the hotel, John quickly made it to the town car that waited for him. His leather mini-skirt clad driver, a beautiful African American woman named Tasha, came out of the town car she had been waiting in “sleep mode” for him to greet her Master. “Take me home, this was stupid,” he angrily spat at the former model who had spurned his advances at a party. Having been reconditioned by Domestic Doll Services, she would do anything to please him now.

He sighed after getting into the back seat of the car. “Tasha, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong.” Why did he yell at what was essential a tin can with skin? Why did he bother to apologize? She was basically a machine at this point! John shuddered at how much more personable he was with machines than with people. He knew it was weird, but what could he do at this point?

“Yes, Master,” she replied in a quiet monotone. Tasha was not much of a conversationalist. Her response file only consisted of “Yes, Master,” and “No, Master.”

John had his driver take him back to the large 30 story building he inherited from his father. He lived on the top floor, but there was another floor which held a deep, dark, secret. It had bothered him a lot when Kaylie asked why he had not bought a Domestic Doll.

It was true that he had shown up with all intentions of buying one as a surprise for his new girlfriend, the failed pop, then country, and finally an embarrassing attempt at a rap album, singer Savannah Sweetness. She was pushing 40 and now looking to reset herself in the public via a new relationship. The blonde beauty had begun dating John with that in mind. He knew it and also remembered what had happened to his previous wives, but the billionaire was certain he would do it again. The Dolls were never perfect enough, at least until a few changes were made. He did, even though about to indulge his perversions, hope things would turn out right with Savannah and her 19 year old daughter. They had a big falling out when he began dating her and had left a note saying to not contact the college student.

In the elevator, John entered a special code and then inserted a key that he only had access to outside of his security team. After a few seconds, the elevator hummed back to life and began moving to a special floor. A special floor which held his former wives.

Kaylie's question really had bothered John, and his entire evening had been shaken up. It made him anxious enough that he just had to visit them. The lights came on as he entered the floor. A series of podiums displayed different posed women. His two former wives, a model, and a few random women who had caught his eye all were kept frozen bent over, at attention, kneeling, masturbating, and with a look of deep surprise respectively. All had been converted into Domestic Dolls and kept in this frozen mode.

John ran his hand over his second wife's body. She stood at attention in a pink maid uniform. Her platinum, teased, hair as high above her head as the heels on her feet. Mariska had been a great wife for awhile: Looked great, fucked like a machine, got lots of free press for him by acting like an idiot in public, but eventually he lost interest just like his first wife. She began demanding stuff...bigger allowance, more time with him, and then the final straw was the Finnish model's desire for a family...he shuddered at the thought of it.

His first wife had two adult aged children already, so they were already done growing up. He made a pass at the daughter at the party celebrating her college graduation and Svetlana had moved to divorce him almost immediately. Lana was now permanently bent over in a tiny skirt, pumps, and a torn top that exposed a bit of her augmented right breast from behind. He turned her “on” once in awhile to take the Ukrainian beauty from behind, and she thanked him, as she had been programmed to, afterwards, before returned to her pose. The daughter had been altered to desire only the life of a vapid party girl until her overdose took over the headlines when one of John's companies had a terrible day at the stock market.

Both of them were occasionally brought out for a public appearance, but also asked for privacy because they had decided to lead a life outside of the public eye. The morons who followed celebrity gossip blogs ate that crap up and thought it was so “brave” of them.

Just as John was about look over to the kneeling, frozen in place, model who had once slapped him at a party, the echoed clicks of a pair of high heels could be heard entering the secret floor. A dark haired Domestic Doll wearing a very brief maid uniform swayed towards him. “Finally! You know what to do.” She knelt before him, undid his belt, and began sucking him off with her pouty mouth. He had not even bothered to name the literally Domestic Doll. She cooked, cleaned, and sucked with proficiency.

John grunted loudly as he shot cum all over her face. He loved treating women like things. There was no time in his days for those who did not comply. It unnerved him when they did not fulfill his needs or desires. Having orgasmed, he felt a bit better. The stress of the day, especially that conversation with Kaylie, had left him.

Tomorrow, his assistant had an important meeting to attend for him. At lunch, he would meet up with Savannah. She had said there was something they needed to discuss. He sighed, walked to the door, buckling his pants on the way, and turned the lights off on the frozen women and left the floor for his private apartment.

End Of Chapter One

Chapter Two

The next day, Savannah and John met up for lunch. The pop star walked into his apartment wearing a white miniskirt, high heeled boots, and a snug sweater. He stared at her bare legs as she crossed the room to kiss him. She should be wearing some kind of hosiery like he always wanted! They had gotten into a fight about this issue last week, so he bit down and decided not to raise it again. Nevertheless, it bothered him.

Savannah began blathering on and on about some such thing or another. She never stopped talking whether it was about herself, or some shopping trip, or, on their last date, how maybe the key to her music career would be combining rap and country on a new album. John got bored fast, but tuned back in when she began talking about her daughter Melanie.

“She just ran off! Didn't want to be found. Ugh, she is such a jerk. I gave her everything!” Savannah pouted, her full, collagen filled, lips making a frown. Suddenly, she brightened. “I bet you know someone who could find her! Use your millions for it.” It was clear this relationship was going nowhere, but if John could at least find her daughter it was worth it.

“Billions? Do I have billions now?” John chuckled to himself, obviously very impressed with the joke. “Yeah, uh, I think I can do something.” He suddenly brightened. “Oh! That reporter who just interviewed me! She used to do investigation for that other newspaper. Rossi!”

Savannah nodded. Jacqueline Rossi was a former investigative reporter who now served up puff piece celebrity gossip to the same morons who bought Miss Sweetness' albums. “Oh, yeah, I know who she is...she interviewed me when my album came out.” She meant the currently at .03 out of 5 stars rated attempt at a rap album after her failed country album, which was after her pop career fell apart. What neither knew was that what they knew as Miss Rossi was actually a clone. The real Miss Rossi had been converted into a Domestic Doll after attempting to interview Domestic Doll Services' CEO Simon Ward to get dirt on him. He decided to keep her for himself and had a clone created that would sell out her ideals to turn towards banality as a final humiliation.

“Well, okay, yeah,” John muttered, “I can talk to her and see what she can do!” He looked around distractedly, wondering when their lunch would arrive. That maid of his needed a stern fucking later.

Savannah suddenly stood up and stood before her lover. “Do it today! John...John,” she took his hands in her own, “you always get so distracted. Make the call now,” she leaned in and kissed him, “and I'll give you the best blowjob you've had this decade.” She stared at him with a deep look of arousal, mostly faked, on her face.

John quickly pulled his phone out and flipped through his address book to find Rossi's private number. He had gotten it from Domestic Doll Services in case he ever needed any help with publicity. As his fingers touched the “call” button, Savannah began undoing his belt and knelt down to suck him off. He stammered through the conversation and explained that his girlfriend needed to find her daughter, who had run off somewhere.

Savannah's mouth ran up and down his hard cock. Sucking dick was meaningless to her at this point. The brunette's first break as a singer came after letting a big wig producer cum all over her face. It was just how it was for singers. She had done it a number of times...talk show hosts, interviewers, a Hollywood mover and shaker or two, and using her mouth to get John to focus enough to make the call was, she thought as he came in her mouth, a fine enough trade off so she could find her absent daughter.

She cleaned herself up and then returned to the room. The conversation had been around ten minutes or so. Savannah was skilled enough to keep him from cumming until the call ended. “How did it go?” Knowing John he probably mentally pictured Jacqueline while she had fellated him, trying to catch his attention again. For the record, he totally did picture Miss Rossi.

“Um, yeah,” John awkwardly began, “she said that she doesn't really do investigations anymore, but knew others that did. She forwarded what you want to someone at Domestic Doll Services. They have some military thing now that can go undercover and find her wherever she is and then bring her back.”

“Domestic Doll Soldiers,” Savannah confirmed. A few weeks ago, she had been out shopping when a protest broke out down town. The latex clad soldiers, as mindless as the average Domestic Doll, had been there just to “observe,” but were terrifying in their hive like actions. They looked like they could kill someone in a split second. The empty looks in their eyes were haunting.

“Yeah!” John confirmed her quiet statement. “They'll find her and bring her in. I'd like to meet your daughter.” Melanie had left for parts unknown right when he had begun dating Savannah. He was suddenly very curious about the nineteen year old.

Savannah suddenly looked really serious. She walked over, heels clicking across the hard floor, and hugged John. “Thank you. I do hope they can help, but I don't want her harmed. I've seen those soldiers...they seemed almost human, but then when they turn towards you they look right through you. It's like their programming doesn't allow them to see any human as anything but a target.” This was truer than Miss Sweetness could even conceive with her bubble brained mind.

John held her for a moment, unsure what else to do. These kinds of situations were always weird for him. Showing appropriate affection was something he did not do well. He never felt like he did the right thing. “Well, hey, we can get her help? If she left something must be wrong, right?” A second passed before he realized how bad that sounded. “Like, I mean, you're a great mom and all, but a lot of women rebel and all. Not all of them can be so...pleasing...like you.”

Savannah sighed. “Honey...” She moved forward a ran a long nail over his arm. “...You just keep focused on making sure Melanie comes home.” The pop singer paused and paced the room briefly. “Maybe she does need some help. I don't know, maybe I didn't get her enough structure? I was a star by her age and I resented how much control my parents had over me. I didn't want that for her, but maybe I should have been more strict? I was already married, the first time, and about to have her by then.”

Her pouting gave John an idea. Yeah, a good idea. “Maybe that would be best...she might need someone to help her...find her place in the world.” His mind began racing, which calmed him down and made his commentary seem much more normal than usual. “It might be good for you too.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I know a guy...he helped one of my exes a lot...yeah...a lot. She was a lot better after talking to him. He's really good.” That he was a hypno-therapist and had been involved in the brainwashing of his former wives was information Savannah did not need at this point.

His girlfriend nodded, but also frowned. “I don't want to end up a recluse like them though! I am still going to revive my career. I think I might try getting into musicals since everyone seems to love them now! I could do a reality show...maybe you can help with that?” She patted her lashes at him seductively, but John just shrugged as he barely noticed her flirtations while his mind raced with ideas for what his friend could do with them.


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