Page 18 of Dolly

Cathy’s body stiffens in preparation for the invasion.

“Go on.” He stands behind me, his chin resting on my shoulder. Thick cigar stench covers him, and he hasn’t brushed his teeth in a decade.

I spread her ass cheeks, and her dark ring of muscle clenches.

“Cathy…please…unclench,” I whisper.Make it easy, please god, make this easy.But I haven’t believed in God for years. And my lack of worship is earning a penalty.

She screams as I push through the tight ring, and every muscle in my body stiffens. Fuck!

“Breathe, Cathy. Just breathe.” I try to work her through it, but my spit isn’t nearly enough lubrication. And as far as I know, she hasn’t been with a man in years.

“Go ahead!” The prod strikes again, sending more scorching pain into my side.

I’m forced forward, and my cock shoves past the tight ring of Cathy’s asshole.

The shrill of her scream will never leave my memory.

Fuck.

Fuck.

“Huh. Look at that. He actually did it.” The bearded man laughs.

A shot rings out, taking away all sound from the room. I fall backwards onto my ass as blood splatters across my chest. It pools to the ground, and I blink, following the thick crimson trail to the source.

“Cathy!”

Her body is limp over the bench, blood spilling beneath her.

“I did what you wanted!” I scream, scrambling to my feet, slipping on her blood in the process.

Bossman stands over me, a cloth in his hand.

“I know. But we already have a dolly. And now we have a KenDoll. It’s been a while since we’ve had one of those.”

I’m shoved back to the ground as the cloth smothers me until the fog returns and my vision blurs into nothing.

Nine

DOLLY

Another hotdog.

I press my finger into it on the metal tray. Cold.

“You have to eat to keep your strength up,” Ken says to me from his cell.

He’s leaning against the wall, watching me from between the bars. I don’t mind when he stares at me. It’s not creepy and scary like when Beardman and Bossman do it. Because Ken won’t hurt me. He’s always checking on me. When Beardman brings me back to my cell, Ken doesn’t make me tell him what happened. He just tells me to make sure I wash the cuts the next time they bring us some water.

“Did you get one?” I ask, scooting toward the door so I can see into his cell.

“Yeah. I ate it already. It’s your turn.” He points to the tray. “Eat.”

He’s bossy sometimes. Beardman hasn’t taken him upstairs in a few days. He gets bossier the longer they leave him alone. I think he’s trying to come up with a plan.

I pick up the hotdog and take a small bite. My stomach rolls as soon as I swallow it, but I get the rest of it down. As gross as it is, I could eat three more of them if they were on the tray.

“Ken, they haven’t come for you in a few days. That means…” I don’t finish my though. It pulls my heart deeper inside my chest. Every time they take him, he comes back with bigger welts. He’s not giving into them the way he should. He fights them and doesn’t do what they want until they force him.

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