Dolly, Chapter 3: Life's Remaining Pleasure

Dolly (who I should point out is 18) is bored, but finds something she can do. Title is an homage to an erotic photo by Paul Alexander.

Dolly spent most of the day asleep. First because her body was still tired from the trip to the island, sedated. Second, because there was literally nothing to do.

There was very little sound. Now and then, there would be the soft sound of the ventilation system. The air grew a bit warmer, evidently this “Master” guy had realized a mostly-naked skinny girl would be pretty cold. The cameras would whir briefly as someone decided to move them a tad. She shuddered wondering who was watching and what they were doing watching her. It got so quiet her breathing seemed loud in her ears.

She supposed she should have been grateful there were no bugs, or mice. Vermin were not unusual in her trailer, her mother’s housekeeping being no better than her ability to put food on the table. She almost wished a roach or spider would scuttle across the floor just to give her some sort of company.

So, she slept. After a while, her nausea gone, replaced by hunger, she tried the kibble. It was dry, not particularly disgusting, but definitely not something she wanted to eat. It was, on the whole, not much worse than her mother's cooking sometimes was. She ate enough to take the edge off her hunger, then lapped up more of the water. At least the kibble she could pick up rather than drinking like a dog.

“Go ahead, take her.”

The words, and the scene with it, played over and over in mind. In a way, Dolly was not surprised at her mother’s betrayal. It had only been a matter of time before Raylene would have kicked her out of the trailer to make her own way in the world. Or maybe she would have pimped her daughter out, either for extra money or just to get a break from getting fucked herself.

“Go ahead, take her.”

Dolly was apparently worth five grand and a week’s supply of drugs to her own mother. She broke down and cried for a long time.

The light eventually went dim again. Apparently it was bedtime. She had finished all the kibble in her bowl, as well as almost all the water. The room smelled vaguely of piss from the bucket. Dolly’s stomach turned at the thought of shitting in the bucket and having to smell it all day.

She slept fitfully that night. The bed was hard, there was no pillow, and there was nothing to cover up with. She had slept all day, and whenever she did doze off, she soon dreamt those words.

“Go ahead, take her.” Four little words that had taken Dolly from hopeless poverty to…whatever this was.

The lights got brighter again. Dolly woke up, relieved herself, and wondered how she would get more food and water. She was used to being hungry, but at least struggling to make herself eat the kibble gave her something to do.

She did not have to wait long. The door rolled up, and the man and the maid were there. The maid went about her work, and the man spoke with his prisoner. The man was wearing khaki slacks and a polo shirt today, with loafers. He held a folder under one arm.

“Good morning, Dolly”, he said cheerily. “Did you sleep well?”

Dolly had been raised to not complain. At best, she would just be ignored. At worst, she would get smacked. Either way, whatever she was complaining about rarely changed. So she just shrugged.
“Dolly, when your master asks you a question, you answer. Now, did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“Better. Now, the correct way to answer is ‘yes, Master.” The man waited, clearly expecting an answer. When she just shrugged again, he shook his head. “Dolly, I can always make your living conditions less pleasant if you do not obey.”

Dolly was good at reading a person’s tone of voice, and used to avoiding confrontation. “Yes, I slept okay. Master.”

“Good. Now, I have some questions for you. It is important you answer honestly. Some questions I already know the answers. Some, I’ll be able to figure out if you are lying. If you lie, you will be punished.” He thumbed his belt. “It would be a shame to make that cute ass of yours as red as your hair, wouldn’t it?”

Unsure if she was expected to answer, Dolly replied, “I’ll be honest.” After a pause, she added, “Master.”

“Good girl.”

He had quite a few questions. Some seemed routine. Did you know your father? How did you do in school? What was your favorite subject? Dolly had liked English class if she liked any of them. Other questions were much more personal. Are you a virgin? Have you kissed a boy? Have you gone further than kissing? What about kissing a girl? That one made Dolly giggle, but the answer was no.

Do you masturbate? Yes. How often? Dolly was not sure, really. When mom wasn’t home, which was not often. When did you start? Dolly was not sure, really.

The maid had disappeared when she was done with her duties, and the questions must have lasted an hour. Finally, Master pulled out the folder and stepped to the bars. Inside the folder were several sheets of paper with columns of typed words and phrases, along with a small digital tape recorder. He showed her how to use it, which was simple.

“I want you to read all the words and phrases on these pages. Read one, wait a couple seconds, then read the next. Go through all three pages three times.”

Dolly looked at the pages, wondering why she was being asked to do this. Some of the words were benign, like Master, happy, and come. A few were overtly sexual, including cock, pussy, and fuck. The phrases were all parts of sentences. I love. I want. I need.

“Have it done before bed time, Dolly, or there will be consequences.” He turned to leave.

“Master? Could you turn the television on? Or could I get a book to read? There is nothing to do in here.”

Her master paused, considering. “I tell you what. When you finish your task, wave to the camera. Then wait a minute and wave again. I’ll have someone come down and pick up the recorder and papers, and I’ll have something play on the screen for you.” He looked at her intently and added. “Do a good job, Dolly, and tomorrow I will bring you a reward. Do a bad job, and tomorrow you will be punished.”

The man left, and Dolly immediately set to work. Wondering what the reward would be, she worked slowly, pronouncing each word clearly, taking her time to get it right. There were roughly one hundred words and phrases on each page, three hundred in all, some repeated several times. It took her a bit more than an hour to complete.

She looked at the camera and waved. A minute later, she waved again, and then again, and again. She had no way of knowing if anyone was watching.

Her arm was tired by the time the door opened. The figure on the other side was new. A bald man, shorter than her Master, but built like a professional wrestler, wearing khaki shorts and a t-shirt that strained over his muscles. His legs were as thick as Dolly’s waist.

Without a word, he held his hand up to the bar. Dolly kept her distance handing over the papers, and shook a little when she had to get closer to hand over the recorder. The man grinned at her obvious fear, leering at her exposed breasts, which Dolly had forgotten to cover, having grown used to be topless.

The man left, and Dolly waited for the television. She was not expecting what came on.

Porn.

Video after video of sex. Most of them featured petite, skinny girls, like Dolly. A few even had red hair. Most of them had sex with one man, invariably one much bigger than the girl. The sex was mostly pretty rough, the girl being manhandled. Some of it had two girls and a guy, some just two girls. Every once in a while it was just a girl, masturbating using her hands or a variety of toys.

The sound was not loud, but definitely too loud to ignore. The girls clearly enjoyed the sex, or at least they were decent actresses. They begged for more. They called themselves names. The man’s climax was almost always a money shot, the girls usually asking for it, although now and then one seemed disgusted or overwhelmed.

All day long, porn played on the television. Dolly, with nothing to do, watched. She imagined herself as the girl on the screen. Eventually, without even realizing it, her hand went to her groin, stroking herself softly through her panties. They grew damp, and she slipped the hand inside.

She completely forgot about the camera as she rubbed herself. She was quiet, having always known her mother would hear her if she made noise. First one, then a second finger slipped into her drenched pussy. Her nipples were standing up, hard, and her other hand began to rub her little tits, stroking the sensitive buds. She alternated fingering her wet cunt and rubbing her engorged clit. Being used to making it quick, she knew how to get herself off. Soon, her legs clenched together, she let out a tiny, muffled squeal, and her fingers were soaked as she orgasmed.

The second day went much more quickly than the first, now that she had something to do.