Page 14 of Dolly

No! NO! NO! I can’t stand it. I won’t survive this. Being prodded and beaten bruises my mind, but this total violation, this utter degradation, scrapes out my insides. I’ll never be whole again.

Over and over, the dildo goes in and out. No matter how much I struggle, it continues.

The pings get faster.

“They’re loving their KenDoll tonight,” he says, tweaking my still-hard cock.

“Now, for the last part.”

Beardman stands in front of me, gripping my hair until I’m facing his groin. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt and shoves down his dirty jeans.

His short, fat, veiny cock emerges from his pants.

I’m going to kill this fucker.

I’m going to kill him.

Kill him.

Kill him.

Eight

Brian

“So, what happened with the mayor’s daughter?” Cathy asks as I accelerate onto the highway.

“It was the deputy mayor’s daughter,” I correct her with a side glance. “And you want to talk about that now?”

She throws her foot over her knee. “We have at least twenty minutes till we get there, and I could use the distraction.”

I get what she means. We aren’t exactly headed toward tea with the queen. We may not know what we’ll find when we get there, but we know it’s going to keep us up at night for months.

“Ella Romero was seventeen. Shetoldme she was twenty-one, and she looked every bit of it. We were at a bar for shit’s sake.” I curse at the slowpoke in front of me and merge to pass. “With all her makeup and the outfit she had on, I swear, she looked of age.”

“You won’t get an argument from me.” She puts her hands up in the air. “I made Sarah change her clothes more than once when she was in high school. I can’t tell you how many Saturday nights that girl was trying to walk out of my house looking like she just graduated college.”

“Exactly.” I point a finger. “Well, she was all over me—you know how it is.”

She gives me a hard eyeroll. “Yeah, I know, you’re a big stud.”

“Right. So, we had a few drinks, then she asked if I could drive her home. Her friends had partnered up for the night. I’m not leaving anyone stranded, so I said sure.”

“Hoping by drive her home she means do the horizontal hustle in her bed.”

I shoot her an incredulous look. “Who the hell talks that way?” I laugh.

She waves a hand. “Never mind. Go on.”

“Any changes from Todd?” I ask, gesturing toward her phone in her lap.

“No. Still the same place. Now, go on.”

She must really need the distraction. This story circulated the station for a month. No way she hasn’t already heard it.

“So, I drove her home.”

“And?” she presses.

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