Page 71 of Dolly

I pull the rope, lifting him off the floor until his toes barely touch the tiles. His face ripens to deep red with a tinge of purple as he dangles. He makes it worse on himself by wiggling, but he’s probably trying to find some way to lessen the pressure on his throat.

Won’t happen.

I dated a girl once, right after college, who was into all sorts of kinky shit. Breath play was one of them, but not just ordinary“Choke me, Daddy”sort of breath play. No, this girl liked to be strung up. It took a while, but I learned what I needed to play safe with her. Safety first and all.

I’m not looking to get his pussy wet.

I loosen my grip on the rope, letting him crumple to the floor. More gasping and coughing. He spits.

“Enough rest.” I pull on the rope until he works his way to his feet. His breath comes in big huffs. There’s enough tension on the rope that he has to stand straight to avoid choking himself out. His wounded knees have to be killing him.

Dolly’s lips pull into a wide smile, and she hops off the table.

“Do you like my dress?” she asks him, fanning out the skirt and curtseying slightly. “No? You always picked this one. The white dress with all the lace. And the makeup. I didn’t have time to do my face for you today.” She touches her cheeks.

“S-S-Stop.” Romero’s voice is scratchy and raw.

Dolly pauses in her step and tilts her head. “Why do they keep asking me to stop when they never once gave me a moment of mercy?” She turns her question to me.

“Because weak men do what he did. Weak and spineless.” Keeping the same pressure on the rope, I kick him in the back, sending him forward.

Dolly laughs.

“Maybe we should see if he has a spine.” She twirls her knife in her palm. She’s become quite fond of that tool. I didn’t bother with suggesting she grab the toy bag from the truck. She has everything she needs in her hand.

“We can’t take too long,” I say firmly.

She frowns. “I know. Because he couldn’t last even a week without hurting someone.” She fists his hair, pulling his head back until he’s looking right at her.

“You made the perfect dolly,” he sneers. Apparently, he’s changing tactics. He won’t be begging for his life; he’ll be tempting her to end it quickly.

But Dolly isn’t stupid.

“I did everything hoping it would stop. But it never did. And never will so long as there are people like you out there.” She presses the tip of her knife to his chest.

“Yeah, you did. You took those cocks so good.” More taunting. I tighten my hands around the rope. If he hurts her, I’ll jerk him off his feet again and finish him myself.

Dolly studies his face, dragging the knife down his torso, over his rounded belly. His eyes clench shut, and his mouth screws up into a silent scream.

“I wanted to do so many things to you when I found you,” she says softly, plunging into his stomach.

Romero grunts, and she removes the knife.

“I had so many plans to make you hurt, make you squeal.” The knife pierces his abdomen again, and he cries out. “But then I saw Sarah and met your daughter. They’re more important than you.” She stabs his stomach again and again and again, until the front of her dress is covered in his lifeforce.

I hold tight to the rope as his wiggling continues. He can fight, but there’s nowhere to go.

He coughs and spits blood, but he’s still breathing.

She pulls his head back farther. Blood drips from the side of his mouth. His eyes are barely open, but she’s not finished with him.

“You don’t get to have another moment of my life.” She raises the knife to his throat and sticks the blade in the center of this throat.

Wet gurgling emits as he grapples for his last breaths. Dolly doesn’t release him until the sounds have long stopped and his body falls limp on the rope. She steps back, letting him flop forward when I release my end of the rope.

Silently, she stares at him, unmoving.

“Dolly—” I start in a whisper, but she holds up her hand.

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