by Alta Hensley
“I had to do some shifting around with the casting.” I looked over at where Janie sat with her sprained ankle propped up on the ottoman. “With Janie’s injury that happened today, I pulled her from Berlin. We also have two new dolls who just arrived, and I don’t feel they’re ready yet in their posture to perform. Plus, I want everyone at their best for Japan. It’s a large show that I don’t want messed up. Berlin is much smaller and can be handled with a smaller cast of dolls.”
Ivy swung her legs over the edge of the chair and stood. “Okay, but what does any of that have to do with me? I’m not hurt, and I thought you were happy with my performance in Milan.”
I glanced around the room and noticed that all the dolls were watching, some more obviously than others. “We can discuss this in private if you want.”
Ivy followed me out of the main room and walked down the hallway, following me down to my study. When we entered, she closed the door behind her and stood with her hands on her hips. It was an odd sight to see her dressed like a cute little doll in a yellow dress and white tights, her hair in a long braid, and bright pink lip gloss staring at me with anger in her eyes. The contrast almost made me laugh, but I needed to remain firm so that Ivy knew I was serious.
“Did I not do a good job in Milan?” she asked, remaining by the doorway. “You didn’t say anything, and I assumed I had.”
“You did a good job.”
“So this isn’t about Milan?”
“It is in a way. But not in the way you think.”
She crossed her arms against her chest. “Well, then explain it to me. I deserve to know.”
Taking a seat at my desk, I hoped the space between us would keep me from walking up to her and taking her into my arms. I found her spark of fury sexy, but wasn’t going to show my cards if I could help it. If she really pushed, I knew I would fold in an instant.
“Watching you in Milan was hard,” I began. “I’m not going to sugar coat this, so I’ll just say it. It was hard watching you even then. Things have changed for us since Milan, so I can only imagine how I will feel now seeing others stare on with lustful eyes. I don’t want to share what is mine.”
“Excuse me?” She took a few steps toward the desk.
“Yes. As long as we are having sex, I’d prefer no one else admiring what is mine.”
“Yours? Because we have had sex?”
I looked up at her from the stack of papers I was pretending to sort. “Is that so hard to understand? Why maybe having you there could be a distraction? That maybe any man wouldn’t want his woman to be on display for others?”
The anger in her face dissolved and she nibbled her lower lip as I noticed she seemed to do when in thought. “What does that mean then? For me as a doll? Does it mean I’m fired?”
“No. Of course not. And this won’t change Japan. It just changes Berlin because the choreography is almost identical to Milan and we both know what that means. Japan isn’t as sexual, and the role I have decided to cast you in for Japan isn’t revealing at all. But Berlin is. I can’t have Allen and Joseph change the choreography for the entire exhibit because of what’s going on between us.”
“What’s going on between us?” She took a few more steps toward me as the safe distance I had set was shrinking by the minute.
I sighed and looked down back at my stack of papers. “We leave tomorrow for Berlin, and I have a lot of work to do before we do.” I glanced up at Ivy who I could see I just hurt with my diversion. “This is a conversation for another time.”
Ivy glanced down, her thick eyelashes hiding the pain in her eyes. “Fine. I’ll stay with Janie and the other girls I don’t know.”
Feeling guilty for being so short and so cold, I offered, “We’ll talk when I return, all right? I don’t want you to think I’m shutting you out. That isn’t the case at all. If you want the real truth, the thought of others looking at you engaged in those acts makes me jealous as fuck.” I offered a smile when she looked up at me in surprise. “So there you have it. I’m just a jealous man who doesn’t want to share his toys. Can you understand that?”
She nodded as a smile replaced the pain that was once there.
“I understand.” She turned to leave without saying another word, but I could tell she was leaving happy with the news I’d revealed.
Yes, I had no intention of sharing my doll. She was my toy. And I’d never learned how to share well with others.
Ivy
Pure exhaustion took over as the dolls entered the living room and settled in for the night of light chatter or reading. I had grown accustomed to the calm and quiet evenings. The new choreography today, before everyone got ready to leave for Berlin, had been by far the hardest most of us had ever done as of yet, and I had somehow held my own to some degree. I honestly believed a lot of my dance improvement was due to Victor and the way he had given me the boost in confidence I guess I’d needed.
Janie came and sat down next to me on the couch. “What are you doing tonight?”
I shrugged. “Maybe read and enjoy the silence.”
“I thought you weren’t good at quieting your mind?” She winked at me with a warm smile.
I shrugged again. “It’s amazing how much has changed about me since being here. I’m doing a lot of things I never pictured myself doing.”
I watched as Janie took off her shoes, the soles of her feet a mass of bloody blisters. I was pretty sure my feet, as well as the rest of the women’s feet, all looked the same.
Janie grimaced as she said, “Since I couldn’t dance today, I was able to watch you. You did really good today in dance, Ivy. I’m proud of—”
I cut Janie off by raising my hand and motioned for silence. I thought I heard a loud bang come from the foyer. Almost as if someone had kicked the door open. No one should have been in the house other than the few dolls who were in the room. We had all waved to the rest as they’d left for Berlin.
We both fell silent, listening to the sounds around us. We motioned for the other girls to do the same. I feared the silence, feared the hushed stillness more than anything else. I hated it.
“Why are you so quiet?” Janie asked. Her breath whispered against my neck as she sat closer to me.
I was afraid of what I thought I heard, afraid of the darkness that loomed around us, unsure of what my gut wanted me to believe. I disliked the night. Even in the calm, darkness held evil which crept down my neck and gave me the chills. I felt the exact same way this very moment. Something was wrong. I could feel it in the depths of my bones.
Were we in danger?
I shrugged my shoulders.
Janie sat back and left the subject alone. There was another crash in the distance, a fear-provoking sound that made my heart skip and my body quiver. “Somebody is in the house. I think someone just broke in.” I glanced at the other dolls who were watching me closely. “Get your shoes back on,” I whispered. “We need to get out of here.” I paused, listening for the sound again or any other sound that revealed what I was panicked to believe. Someone had broken in… I feared I was right, so I listened closely. Silence.
I listened hard, only hearing my breath and the heavy breathing of the other women looking at me with frightened eyes.
Silence.
And then the words…
“There are the precious Drayton Dolls.” A man walked into the room with a knife in his hand. Two more men followed close behind with guns. “I knew we would find the treasure if we looked hard enough.”
I turned to Janie. “Run! Try to get out of here and get some help. Run!”
Janie hesitated.
“Go! Everyone run!” I screamed.
The three women scattered and left the room through the other exits as soon as I screamed for them to run again.
“Get them,” the man ordered as he turned to look at me where I stood my ground. “Don’t let them get away!”
As the other men chased after the women fleeing for their lives, the man with the knife
charged, but I met his attack head on, hoping I would be able to distract him enough so at least one of the dolls could run for help. I plowed into his body with all my weight, knocking us both to the ground—his knife sliding across the room.
I could see that Janie had escaped from the corner of my eye. Before I could register relief, the man’s fist hit my face with a blinding force.
Sparks blurred my vision from the force of the blow. Blood poured from my nose as my attacker punched me again and again. The evil in his eyes shone in the soft light of the room. The yellow of his teeth and the stench of his alcohol and tobacco-laced breath only enhanced the nightmare I couldn’t wake from.
He’s going to kill you! Fight for your life. Fight long enough for everyone to get away.
Watching the blood drip from my bloody nose to the ground, I tried to struggle to my feet, but he was suddenly on top of me, restraining me on the marble floor, his jean-clad thighs prying my legs apart. I tried not to focus on the crazed face looming over me. His hungry sneer made it clear he wanted more than just to hurt me.
He’s going to rape you! Fight now!
His mouth came down toward my face, dried spit at the corners. I blocked the forced kiss with both hands, feeling his skin beneath my nails as I attempted to claw out his eyes. I fought the urge to let out a scream, I feared Janie or the others would come back to try to save me if they heard me screaming for help. I wouldn’t allow that. I wouldn’t allow them all to die. I had no choice but to save myself. Even if I died, this man wouldn’t walk away unscathed. His fucking DNA would be under my nails and all over my entire body when the police found me. Even if I didn’t beat this fucker in life, I would still get my vengeance in death when the investigation would ultimately find him guilty of murder.
He hissed between his filthy unbrushed teeth, beads of foul sweat dripped off the tip of his pointy nose. Sweat oozed from every pore of his body. Clearly, fatigue had set in. I could feel his strength weakening with every defensive move I made. His sexual need clouded his mind. Hope washed over me. I could still fight him off. I just needed to outlast his vigor. Resilience and wits could switch this situation around. I wouldn’t stop fighting until he killed me. I would not hand over my body without a damn fight.
“You are nothing but a kinky whore! You know you want it just as bad as me. You’re one of The Dollhouse girls. We’ve heard all about The Dollhouse and all you sick fucks. You want it! Stop fighting! I hear you are trained in this. Show me what a good doll can do.”
Breathing hard, his body wheezed with every struggle. He had me imprisoned on the hard floor, but I knew I had a chance to break free as his sexual need overpowered everything else. Daily dance, hours of posing, and exercise at The Dollhouse had made me strong and more physically fit than I had ever been in my entire life.
I thrashed my body more, refusing to look at his lust-filled face only inches from my own. Strength alone couldn’t fight him off. I feared he would eventually win. I needed something—
His knife. I needed to reach his knife.
I had sent it flying across the room when I met his attack head on. If only I could stretch out my arm just a little further, the weapon would be within reach. I needed to struggle more. Just a little bit more.
“Stop fighting! I’ll kill you if I have to!” Spittle blanketed my face. Nausea racked through me. “Be a good doll. Be a fucking doll and give me what I want. I’ll get it one way or the other, you might as well make this easy on you.”
His hands grabbed my breasts. His sexual need distracted him as I had hoped, slowly letting his guard down. “You know you want this. This is what you women are trained for. I’ve heard about what you do in those art galleries,” he murmured, despicable vileness clinging to his voice. “Let me taste some of that special sauce that makes you dolls famous.”
I opened my mouth to scream, but stifled my voice. My only chance of getting out of this alive was to outsmart him. Catch him off guard.
Reach for the knife.
“I may not be a rich man,” he continued, moving a hand to unbutton his pants. “But where I lack in money, I make up with the size of my dick. I promise you, I’ll make you feel good. Real good. I know you’re experienced, but I’m sure I can teach you a thing or two.”
Pausing in my struggle, acting as if him boasting about the size of his penis had worked in convincing me, I managed to fake a smile and nod.
“That’s a good doll. Just stop fighting me,” he spat. “Spread your legs nice and wide. You want me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whispered, the word almost burning my tongue.
His severe stare searched my face. “You’re not going to fight, right? You’re going to stay right here where you belong? Pose for me like a doll. I want a sex doll.” He released a wicked laugh. “Yes, pose like a sex doll.”
I managed another weak nod and an even bigger smile.
He returned the smile, a sneer that revealed gaps and crooked teeth. His thighs relaxed, loosening their hold on my lower body.
I forced myself to be patient. I had to wait for just the right opportunity to strike. I knew I would have only one chance. I would die before I’d let the monster take me.
The man slowly shifted so he could lower his pants.
Reach for the knife now!
The man must have been reading my mind, because he flipped me over onto my stomach as if I truly were a rag doll, reached for the knife, sliced off my panties like they were thin paper, and exposed my ass completely.
“That’s right, doll,” he hissed. “I know all about what gets shoved up this ass of yours.”
Without giving me time to process what was happening, the man took the handle of the knife and pushed it against my anus.
“No!” I screamed, but to no avail.
The edge of the handle breached my anus and started to enter me even though I tried with all my might to stop the invasion.
“I’m going to fuck this ass of yours with the knife first, and then my cock.”
Finding the last ounce of strength I had left, I shoved him away as hard as I could, knocking the knife out of his hand and out of my ass. With the same strength, I rolled toward the knife, and stabbed toward his charging body. It happened so quick, I didn’t have time to think. I let out an animalistic growl as I stabbed the knife into his chest again… and again… and again.
Blood sputtered from his mouth as he glanced down at his chest in horror. Blood poured from the wound, but it clearly wasn’t enough to kill him. His blood-shot eyes flashed with rage as he knocked the knife out of my hand, sending it flying across the room once again.
Chapter Sixteen
Ivy
“Leave her the fuck alone!”
The sound of another man’s voice brought tears to my eyes. Someone else was here! Help… a miracle… someone.
I shifted my head to see a man looming in the shadows of the room. His silhouette exuded power. His deep voice possessed strength. This man could be my savior.
Harley Crow?
Was the man charging into the room Harley Crow from Spiked Roses?
My attacker spun around at the sound of the voice. He quickly stood, and without any warning, he attacked Harley.
I managed to pull myself into a sitting position as I watched the two men struggling. They were on the floor now, throwing fists at each other, both attempting to knock the other one out.
From the corner of my eye, I saw the bloody knife I had just used lying across the room. Cringing, I managed to get into a standing position, head still spinning from the battering to my face. I drew in a deep breath, quickly making my way across the room.
I stood inches from the knife when my attacker shot up from the floor, evidently thinking the same as me. Not giving him the chance, I launched myself the remaining distance and grabbed the knife before the vile asshole could react.
Foolishly, the man lunged at me—no doubt hoping he could wrestle the weapon from my grasp. Without hesitation, I
stabbed the knife at him again. Seeing his crazed eyes, I pulled the knife back, and then slashed at his neck.
Bile rose in my throat as my attacker crumpled to the floor. I began to shake. Tears blurred my vision. He was dead! I’d killed a man!
“Give me the knife. Everything’s going to be okay.” Harley touched my forearm tentatively.
My head swirled in confusion. I looked down and saw that my bloodied hand still gripped the knife, scarlet now from blood I had spilled.
“He’s dead. I’m not going to hurt you. Just give me the knife.” The gentleness of Harley’s voice somehow soothed me in this awful storm of darkness. Trusting him because of Spiked Roses, I handed it to him, looking him straight in the eyes. I knew at that very moment, I was in safe hands.
“How badly are you hurt?” he asked as he scanned for injuries.
I stared at my hands. Parts of me felt numb, while other parts radiated in pain. I looked into his eyes and began to cry. He hesitated for a moment, but wrapped his arms around my beaten body. I clung to him as I sobbed, shaking violently. No longer able to stand, my knees buckled. Harley Crow gently lowered us both to the ground as he pulled away enough so he could look into my face.
“Where’s Victor?” he hissed. “Where is everyone?”
The harshness of the question confused me. I sucked back the last sob, and quickly tried to regain my composure. “There is a show in Berlin. Most of the dolls are flying there with him. A few of us not cast stayed behind.”
My heart stopped as fresh panic set in. “Oh God! The other women! There were two other men! They were chasing the dolls! We have to help them.”
“Fuck!” he said. “I heard rumors that a kidnapping attempt was in the works for The Dollhouse. I came here to give Victor a heads up, but clearly I’m too late.” He ran his hand through his hair and stared at the knife in his hand. “I fucking didn’t bring a gun. Fuck.” He grabbed his cell from his pocket, dialed a number and said into the phone, “Get here now. The Dollhouse. We’ve got trouble.”