Dolly, Chapter 1: Go Ahead, Take Her & Chapter 2: Your New Home

In which Dolly is moved to her new home. This is introduction, light on sex stuff.

Chapter 1: Go Ahead. Take Her

Dolly lay on the cheap bed of her lousy bedroom in the crappy trailer her mother rented in the shittiest trailer park outside of Portland, Oregon. She was crying. She had just had a huge fight with her mother. Earlier, Dolly’s mom, Raylene, had been told that Dolly would not be graduating in June, having failed one of the classes required for graduation. Dolly had never been much of a student.

“What you gonna do without a diploma, you moron!”, her mom had screamed. “You ain’t gonna be able to sell that body! Well, ‘cept to perverts.”

Raylene knew a thing or two about being selling her body, having been a prostitute since she was younger than Dolly. And she was right about Dolly’s body. At 4’ 9” tall and barely 90 pounds on a good day, Dolly looked younger than her age. Most freshmen were her size. And with a 28A-22-30 figure, she did not offer much by way of womanly appeal, either. When she bothered to clean herself up, however, she was adorable, with bright blue eyes and long red hair, a cute face, and a lovely smile.

Not that she dolled herself up very often. Her clothes were all second-hand from thrift shops. Her mom, who is addition to being a prostitute also liked her drugs, whatever drugs she could get, sometimes spent their food money on narcotics, which accounted for some of the reason Dolly was so petite. The number of times Dolly had sat in her room while her mom fucked the landlord to get a break on the rent was beyond count.

Dolly had watched several times, cracking the door of her room open to look into the tiny living room. Her mom on her knees or bent over the couch, the trailer creaking and swaying slightly. Dolly and her mom were not popular with the women who lived by them, some of whom thought, correctly in most cases, that Raylene fucked their husbands or boyfriends for cash, too.

Despite this, Dolly had little experience with boys, although she knew some of the men her mom fucked had asked if Dolly had a price, too. Dolly’s sexual experience was limited to kissing a couple of nerdy boys, one of whom had the courage to grope her tit once, along with watching porn on the internet, when her mom bothered to pay that bill, and, a few times, masturbating as she watched her mother earn money.

What, Dolly thought, was she going to do? Work at fast food for a living? Her mom wouldn't support her forever, and she hated her life with her as it was.

There was a knock on the door, and Dolly groaned, not in the mood for listening to her mom get fucked. She did not notice that more than one set of feet entered the trailer. But she did hear her mother speaking, and another woman, with a slight accent, was also speaking.

Interested, she went to the door and cracked it open. There were two large Hispanic men with big muscles, ugly faces, and tattoos. While they fit right into the trailer park, the woman did not. She was beautiful, tall, with black hair and green eyes. She wore the sorts of clothes Dolly dreamed of when she fantasized about somehow getting rich, maybe winning the lottery. She even had on stylish gloves that accessorized her outfit perfectly.

“Dolly!”, her mom yelled, “Get your scrawny ass out here!”

Dolly came out of her room, somewhat shy in old pajamas too small even for her. The strange woman smiled at her.

“Yes, she will do nicely”, the woman said. From her purse she pulled out a band of hundred-dollar bills, along with a baggy that Dolly knew contained drugs. The woman set them on the table in front of Dolly’s mother. Five thousand dollars and who knows how much the drugs were worth.

Dolly’s mom picked up the bag of drugs, a clear sign of her priorities. Without so much as a second glance at her daughter, she said, “Go ahead, take her”.

The two men stepped forward and, before Dolly could react, grabbed her. Dolly screamed, but from that trailer in that park screaming was not unheard of, especially since there had been a lot of yelling earlier. One of the men had a syringe ready, and Dolly felt the sting as it went into her skinny arm.

Her last sight as she slipped into darkness was her mother was her mother, oblivious to her daughter, preparing to shoot up.

One of the men tossed Dolly’s limp form over his shoulder. The other man opened the trailer door and closed it again gently after the first man exited. The back of a nondescript van was already open just a few steps from the doorway, and the first man simply stepped into the back with Dolly and the second man closed the doors quietly. A few minutes later, the woman came out, got in the front seat, and handed the bundle of hundreds to driver.

“A bonus. The fentanyl was a great idea. She’s already dead. Overdosed.”

The van drove away. It was three days later before anyone noticed the smell from the trailer. The police came and did a cursory investigation. Raylene was known to them from a few possession and prostitution arrests, an overdose not at all surprising, and the needle was still in her arm. The case was closed inside a week, ruled a fentanyl overdose. Nobody even bothered to ask about the daughter. The neighbors did not mention her, and the cop on the case, overworked as he was, didn’t think to follow up on it. There was no family to ask questions, and the neighbors in the trailer park had their own worries.

2: Your New Home

Dolly awoke with a splitting headache, nauseous, and a dry throat and mouth. She was in some sort of dimly lit room, laying on a hard bed. She was cold, and all her muscles ached.

It took three tries to sit up, and she almost vomited and almost passed out. Sitting up made her dizzy. She closed her eyes and tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her eyes were itchy. She took a minute to steady herself before opening them up again.

The first thing she noticed, since she was looking down at her knees when she opened her eyes, was that she was not wearing pajamas. She had on a pair of panties, white and they felt like silk. That was all. Her small breasts were bare, her nipples pebbling in the cool air.

The second thing she notices was the bars that surrounded her on three sides.

She was in some sort of cell, eight feet by six feet and maybe seven feet high. The front and side walls, as well as the top of the cell, were made of bars like a jail cell, while the rear wall was made of cinderblocks. Outside the bars, there was a space three feet to the sides and front. The side walls were more cinderblocks, and the front had what looked like a rollup door in a self-storage place.

Her first thought was the self-storage place from Silence of the Lambs. Was she in a storage unit, waiting some serial killer who would come in and cut her up?

As her eyes struggled to focus, she saw that there were two lights on two corners of the space surrounding the cell, with two security cameras in the other corners. One side wall also had a large screen television bigger than the one her mom had in the trailer, as long as Dolly was tall.

The inside of the cage was more disturbing. The bed was basically a metal shelf with a thin pad stuck to it somehow, with no covers. At the foot of the bed, which was in one corner, was a large stainless steel bucket. To the side of the cell door, which blended in so well with the barred walls that Dolly did not notice at first, two pet dishes, one large with water and one small with what, Dolly assumed, was dog kibble.

She tried calling out, but her head hurt too much, and her throat was dry and sore. She was terribly thirsty. There was no way to lift the water bowl from the ground as both bowls appears to be bolted to the concrete floor. She tried scooping water with her hands, but found a lot of it just spilled onto the floor. With no idea of how long she would be there, she knew she could not afford to waste any, so she began sucking it up right from the bowl, her nose dipping into the water as she drank.

As she sat back down on the bed, trying to think, she heard a whirring sound from the corner. Looking up, she the camera move. Someone was obviously watching her.

She tried calling out again, covering her small breasts with one arm and waving with the other. She was terrified of who might come, but she was more terrified of being left alone there. For some reason, that was when she realized that the bucket was her toilet.

She yelled this time, but her head felt like it would split open. After what felt like an hour, she gave up.

Nobody had come, and the camera hadn’t moved again. So, she lay back down, doing her best to curl into a ball, both to cover herself from the camera and to keep warm. She fell back asleep.

It seemed like a minute later but was in fact two hours that she awoke with a start. The lights had suddenly gotten much brighter. Hope floated through her brain. Surely someone was coming to get her.

A long time passed. Dolly struggled with her bladder, which was full. There was no sound, no hint that someone was coming. Finally, she squatted over the bucket, pulled her panties down, and relieved herself. She had no idea how long she had been asleep the second time, let alone the first time, but she could tell by them smell of her urine that it had been quite a while. There was a roll of toilet paper on the ground next to the bucket, and she tore off a couple pieces to pat herself dry, tossing the used paper into the bucket. Then she sat back down to wait.

Finally, the noise of the outer door rolling up startled her from her stupor. Two figures were slowly revealed.

One was a diminutive Black girl, about Dolly’s size and age. She was wearing a maid outfit, although the skirt was far too short for a normal maid. The other person was a tall man.

His hair was dark, with a few sprinkles of grey, like salt on a black countertop. His eyes were dark, and he sported a short goatee. He wore a dark business suit with a red tie. Dolly did not know men’s fashion as she did women’s, but she could tell it was expensive, and she assumed the gold watch on his left wrist was as well.

Dolly sat back, cowering against the wall, her knees pulled up and her arms around them. Mostly, this was to cover her breasts, but the truth was she was terrified.

“Who are you?”, she yelled. “Where am I? I want to go home!”

The man nodded, his face expressionless. “I know, I know, a thousand questions. Let me see if I can answer the basics. Who? Where? When? How? And so on.”

His eyes never left Dolly’s hardly even seeming to blink. “Who am I? I am the man who purchased you. My name does not concern you. You will call me Master.”

Before Dolly could respond, the man continued. “Where are you? Well, you are on an island on the other side of the world from your trailer park. My island. More specifically, you are in a cell beneath my home on that island. We are far from any shipping lanes, far from any other inhabited place. Nobody knows that you are missing, much less where you are."

While the man spoke, the Black maid carried in a two-liter bottle of water that had been sitting out in the hallway out of sight. Dolly noticed there was a similar door across the hallway. The maid used the water to refill Dolly’s water bowl, pouring it through the bars.

“When?”, the man continued. “It is the morning of the third day since Ebony and her men took you from your mother. The date is not really important to you. Here, for you, there is only morning and night.”

“How did you get here? Ebony and her men took you to a private airstrip, loaded you into a box, then put the box on my jet, which flew you here. You spent the entire time sedated. I understand the side effects of the sedation can be unpleasant, but they will pass in a day or so.”

The man paused. The maid had come around to the side of the cage and unlocked, the opened, a small section of bars, a little door, by the bucket. She pulled out the bucket and walked into the hall, out of sight.

Dolly stared at the man. Finally, she broke the silence. “Why?”

The man gave a small chuckle. “My dear, you are the daughter of a whore. Surely you know why a man like me would buy a girl like you.” He did not elaborate, waiting patiently as the maid returned with the bucket, or at least an empty one to replace to used one. She unlocked the small door and put the bucket in and then locked the door, hurrying back into the hall.

The man hit an unseen button on the other side of the wall next to the door, and it began to roll down.

“Wait!”, Dolly yelled. “You’re just going to leave me here?”

The man called from the other side as the door rolled down. “For now. Try to get some rest. You will need it.”

The door closed, and Dolly was left alone with her thoughts and fears.