The Dollhouse Pt. 01

Author's Note:

This is my first submission to Literotica, thank you so much for reading. This chapter contains exhibitionism, masturbation, rough oral and BDSM.

Subsequent chapters will explore themes of reluctance, dubious consent, non-consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism, BDSM, and prostitution. If any of these categories aren't for you, then this story is probably not worth reading.

This is a work of fiction. All characters portrayed are over the age of 18, and any resemblance to persons real or otherwise is purely a product of your own paranoia and/or imagination.

Thank you so much for considering this work,

EF

~~~~~~~

"Class dismissed." Professor Deal ended the lecture with an air of finality. The students rose, an orchestra of rustling papers and shuffling feet, but Miki Lenz remained seated, clutching at the hem of her semi-sheer summer dress. She shouldn't have worn it to class but it had been such a beautiful, warm morning she couldn't resist. It clung to her, revealing more of her athletic physique than she would have liked. She gingerly closed her copy of Federal Judicial and Civil Procedures, stuffed it in her backpack, stood up, and self-consciously straightened her light summer dress. Thank god her tits were smaller than her friend Gwen's, but she could feel her nipples pressing against the light fabric and her cheeks flushed red.

She'd bought it for herself as part of their 'get laid' summer. Gwen DiMatteo, Miki's best friend since grade three, practically her sister... it was her idea, reckless and over the top as usual. Quantity wasn't an issue for Miki, plenty of guys were interested in the beautiful, athletic 20-year-old, but somehow it felt like she wasn't enough. The more men she attracted, the more her optimism about humanity withered. She had encountered countless terrible specimens of the male gender - superficial, self-centered jerks who just wanted to fuck her with little to no regard for their partner or desire for a genuine connection. And what did that say about her? Gwen insisted she was self-sabotaging and needed to modify her standards if she was actually serious about getting some. But what had really kept Miki on edge the entirety of the two hour lecture on civic and federal law was her financial situation.

Miki had fucked up badly, something very out of character for her, and therefore all the more disturbing. Facing her coming second year in Law School had thrown her off, scared her, and she did a very non-Miki thing: she let Gwen talk her into partying a little (way) too much. The four grand her parents had given her to get through to Christmas was all but gone, blown on booze, Ubers, clothes, and an old Honda CB350 that they were supposed to share but had so far turned into a derelict money pit. She needed to find a job quick, or it would be another three months of abject poverty.

As Miki exited the lecture hall she noticed James Darden briefly glancing at her. He was a post graduate physics major, so had no business in this part of the school. Was a bit galling to see him popping in and out of her perimeter so frequently, but it was also nice to have a little attention, even if he wasn't her type. He did have seriously nerdy good looks, kind of a clean-cut Buddy Holly thing going for him: strong jaw, a little thin, and tall at around six feet. She'd noticed him since the start of the semester, stealing glances, helpfully picking up any items she dropped. His voice was soft and timid, yet there was a hint of intelligence and humor behind it. Whenever he spoke, it was with a slight nervousness, as if he was always afraid of saying the wrong thing. He obviously liked her; it was sweet and more than a little pathetic. But Miki just wasn't interested. For better or worse, she was attracted to men with fire and intensity, and James' passive manner left her skirt cold and unlifted. Worst of all, he lived down the hall from her. To his credit he kept his distance there, never tried to invade her private space or invite himself over. As tempting as it might have been, a mercy fuck would inevitably have come with unwelcome consequences: don't shit where you eat.

~~~~~~~

Miki flipped open her laptop and took a look at the job postings on the university website. She would have preferred to work on campus since she didn't have a car, but there didn't seem to be anything available besides daytime cafeteria cashier which clashed with her daily class schedule. A wider employment search revealed a considerable number of minimum wage job openings in the exciting fields of food service and retail, neither of which she felt particularly drawn to or qualified for. She filled out an online application at a coffee shop within walking distance of the campus.

A thump, followed by a muffled curse let her know Gwen was awake.

Gwen was family. She was also the embodiment of rebellion, a constant presence in Miki's life since they were young, and everything Miki wasn't: carefree, unpredictable, and unapologetically herself. Though their friendship was deeper than blood, Gwen's shitstorms usually caused more trouble than good. But to Miki she was still the sister she never had, and she couldn't image her life without her untamed alter-ego.

Gwen had been part of the Lenz family since her parents abandoned her at age six, first by serving a ten-year stretch in a federal minimum-security penitentiary for interstate mail fraud, and then for just simply being shitty human beings who never bothered to come back and be parents. It was, Miki knew, for the best, but that kind of abandonment leaves a deep wound, and Gwen had been changing the dressing on that bloddy, gaping hole ever since. First it was sugar, then boys, then alcohol and drugs; she was a party girl, at times an unstoppable wild thing.

Miki had always been the sensible one, the one with discipline, career goals, and a near obsessive dedication to success. Gwen was a dreamer spawning new desires on a bi-weekly basis. Miki studied her tight little ass off, devoted herself to The Law and its Studies, and rarely indulged in booze, drugs, or men. Gwen made sure Miki left her house once in a while to have fun, and Miki made sure Gwen didn't hop in random cars with strangers offering candy. They suited each other in unlikely and powerful ways, it had been that way right from day one.

Gwen peeked out from behind her bedroom door. "What day is it?"

"Tuesday. One thirty. P.M."

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm so late. Why didn't you wake me up for fucks sake?"

Miki threw a stern look in poor Gwen's wretched direction "I knocked an hour ago."

Gwen had a schedule, honed to perfection by the end of her first year at college. As a psych major she had a challenging load of labs and classes her second year, still considerably lighter than Miki's workload, leaving plenty of room for 'fun'. She'd wake up somewhere between 11am and 1pm, head to her classes, all scheduled for afternoons and evenings, then spend the rest of the night doing whatever it was that Gwen wanted to do. It usually involved drinking, men, women, and the occasional intervention of law enforcement. There had been rumors going around about Gwen. She was uninhibited, something Miki actually was a little jealous of. But some of the rumors were more disturbing, that Gwen had gone from party girl to professional.

Miki chalked it up to the typical gossipy bullshit that flew around college, but Gwen had definitely taken some kind of turn lately. She'd been gone for almost a full twenty four hours this time, and she looked like shit, which in her case was saying a lot - bloodshot eyes, disheveled hair, the stench of alcohol and drugs clinging to her skin. "I made you some breakfast, but it's cold now."

"That's cool. I'm just going to hop in the shower and GTFO though. Let's meet up tonight at Frolic Room? I really want to hang out, I miss you, Miks."

"Sure. I can't stay out late though." Gwen was gorgeous, even half dead with a hangover. Miki admired her bouncy tits as her friend shuffled stark naked down the hall to the bathroom.

Miki made it to her afternoon lecture half regretting agreeing to meet Gwen. She needed to keep looking for work, and no real time to fuck off at a bar with her libertine friend.

~~~~~~~

Gwen hesitated at the entrance to the dark room. She felt a mix of excitement and fear, it happened before every trick, like the first time she dove off a high diving board as a child. The air reeked of stale sweat and alcohol, and she could almost feel the weight of the bitter secrets that stained the walls.

"Come." a deep voice beckoned from the shadows. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw what she assumed was George Karamides sitting alone in a chair in the back corner, next to a lit, empty stage. His weathered face held a subtle smile, his eyes at first seemed passive and kind, but she could feel a predatory afterimage burned in those dark brown irises.

Serena Lane, Gwen's boss at the agency had set her up for this, last minute, with a considerable emphasis on how important it was to satisfy Mr. Karamides, the money behind Serena's agency, and likely a lot of other lucrative and shady enterprises. She could smell the money and the power. Polly, his usual, had been out sick with COVID and Gwen jumped at the chance to earn some extra money. Her growning opiate addiction was threatening to outpace even her significant earnings as an escort.

Taking a deep breath, she sauntered over, the shimmering, gold lame material of her tight fitting dress hung on Gwen's body like a second skin, accentuating her significant curves. Her high heels clicked rhythmically on the wooden floor, announcing her approach like a clock ticking down the last seconds of a condemned prisoner's life.

"Sit." Karamides spoke quietly.

"Nice place you have here," Gwen said, forcing a sultry smile onto her face. Something about him had her nerves up, on alert. She employed her slut façade to disarm men like him.

"Is it?" he replied. He looked her up and down. "It's the people that make a place."

Her pulse quickened as Karamides gestured to his lap. She hesitated for a moment, then settled herself onto his powerful thighs and let out high pitched giggle. His hands immediately found their way to her breasts, kneading them roughly through the thin fabric. She bit back a gasp.

"Good girl," he murmured in her ear, his voice thick with lust and control. "I can tell we're going to be very good friends."

"I hope so." Gwen replied, her defense mechanism of choice now unbridled enthusiasm. And, she had to admit to herself that the setup, her sense of danger, and his understated power trip were turning her on.

As if sensing her distraction, Karamides pointed to the stage. "Go on."

Gwen rose from his lap, her legs trembling ever so slightly beneath her. As she ascended the steps, she felt the weight of his gaze on her, heavy and possessive. Once on the stage, Gwen closed her eyes briefly, then swayed and began to dance to the silent room.

She peeled off her dress, revealing miles of tanned skin, and then slid out of her panties, leaving her clad in nothing but her high heels. The rhythmic motion and sense of vulnerable humiliation began to work on Gwen's libido, she felt herself gush a little as she sunk to her knees and laid her back down on the hard stage floor. She ran her fingers down her stomach and over her mound to her shaved pussy lips, first teasing, then spreading them wide open for Karamides.

"Beautiful." Karamides stared at her lewd display as he muttered under his breath.

She could barely hear him, but besides the sound of her own breathing, her heart pulsing in her chest, the room was silent.

"Enjoying yourself?"

"Yes darling. Very much." he replied, his eyes dark with desire. "I do have some other things in mind."

Gwen knew there was more to come before she was done earning her money. She could hear her blood rushing through her ears as she finished her lewd solo act, beads of sweat trickling down her tanned skin, leaving a shimmer under the hot stage lights.

"Come here." Karamides strode onto the stage.

Gwen obeyed and dropped to her knees before him, swallowing her nagging discomfort as she reached for the bulge in his slacks.

She unzipped his pants and pulled out his erect cock, taking a deep breath before she opened her luscious pink lips and took his manhood inside her mouth. The taste and feel of him filled her senses. This was Gwen's comfort zone: strong, handsome man, putty in her hands, mouth, pussy, or ass. She swirled her tongue under and around his cockhead, then pushed herself further onto him.

George Karamides moaned, gripping her long, dark blonde hair as he thrust deeper into her mouth, her eyes watering from the effort. He suddenly had the urge to see tears roll down her pretty, soft and smooth cheeks. He gripped her hair tightly in his fists and forced his way just a little deeper. Gwen had plenty of experience holding back her gag reflex, but she knew this man wanted her to struggle, she could sense it, and the anxiety she felt stirred a wave of nausea deep inside her gut. She barely held it back, pulling back hard against his grip on her hair, gasping and choking as his cock slid out of her air passage, drool cascading down her chin and chest.

Karamides growled, pulling Gwen away from him. He walked to a trunk on the side of the stage, leaving Gwen to recover, and pulled out a set of steel wrist and ankle manacles.

~~~~~~~

The Frolic Room's Jukebox was legendary. First of all because jukeboxes had almost completely gone extinct, and second because it had an insanely weird collection of singles. Everything from "Believe" by Cher to "Lick My Decals Off, Baby" by Captain Beefheart, and whatever might be found in between. "Keep Me Hangin' On" by the Supremes drenched the kitschy chic deco room in a frothy emotional density as Miki took a seat at the bar. She hated arriving first to anything social, mostly because she felt shy and awkward, but also because it was just a matter of time before someone tried to pick her up. She'd decided on a white t-shirt, black leather jacket, and the shittiest pair of jeans she could find that didn't make her look dumpy or fat, in hopes she'd fly under the man-radar for the evening. Now she just needed to order something, the ritual of it might help settle her down, make her feel a little less tightly wound. On cue, the perky blonde bartender looked her way. "Hmm... Gin and Tonic please. The cheaper the better."

A couple sips in and she felt better.

~~~~~~~

"Put these on," Karamides ordered, tossing the metal restraints to Gwen. "This too." He held up a Jennings dental retractor gag, its surgical titanium frame glinting in the light.

Gwen hesitated. Serena had mentioned there might be some BDSM, but Gwen had been busy trying to hide the sweat from her opiate withdrawal and counting how much money she'd spent on drugs the last couple of weeks: it went in one ear and out the other. But she couldn't back down, she needed the money too desperately, which had become a recurring theme lately. She was going to have to do something about her habit, but not just yet.

She smiled and took the restraints and gag, fastening them around her wrists and ankles, then placing the titanium gag in her mouth against her upper and lower teeth. The cold metal pressed against her lips and she felt an immediate loss of control. Karamides gave her a gentle, concerned look as he ratcheted the jennings gag, forcing her jaw into a wide-open position that she had no ability to resist.

Good girl." He gazed over Gwen, now reduced to three helpless holes to be fucked. Her pussy gushed again. She mulled the idea of writing her psych dissertation on this very subject, and the title popped into her head just as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end: 'Sexual Assertiveness as Handmaiden to Sexual Submission'. She pictured the furrowed brows and looks of disapproval at the use of 'Handmaiden' in this context and tried to chuckle, but it sounded more like a hiccup with the gag prying her jaw open.

Gwen's world tilted as Karamides forced her onto a small bench at the center of the stage. The cold, hard surface dug into her back, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from the man looming above her. Her bound limbs prevented her from doing anything more than writhing helplessly beneath him. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her vulnerable form; it was simultaneously electrifying and terrifying.

"Open." Karamides commanded. He grasped his large cock, already slick with her saliva, and guided it towards her gaping mouth. Gwen closed her eyes and tried to relax for what was coming. His cock slid over her tongue. Her lips were too wide open to get much contact, but as he traveled further into her mouth she felt him fill her up. She felt the urge to regain some control and made a show with her eyes and brows of pleading for mercy, gagging and choking on her own spit. She could tell he wanted to control her and make her suffer, hopefully only a little. Karamides pushed forward, forcing his thick length past her lips and down her throat. Her gags and choking became all too real as his glans reached the back of her mouth and pushed against her epiglottis, the barrier to the entrance of her throat giving way to his forceful invasion.

Gwen found it hard breathe, and a panic rose as her body's natural instincts fought against the obstruction, demanding air. She tried to pull away, but the restraints and Karamides' grip on her hair held her firmly in place, the pain a sharp counterpoint to the suffocating pressure of his cock now lodged deep in her throat.

The veins in her neck bulged and pulsed, straining to provide her oxygen-starved brain with the blood it so desperately needed. Tears welled up in her eyes, streaking mascara down her cheeks and mixing with the smeared lipstick that now covered her chin. She looked broken.

Karamides looked down at her, his focus shifting from her bulging neck to her tears and mascara stained face. He reached down and wrapped his frighteningly large hand around her throat, pressing down against the bulge his cockhead made in her throat.

Gwen's thoughts raced, even as her vision blurred and darkened. She tried to choke out the words "Stop. Please... Can't breathe...", but it came out as unintelligible gurgling.

Karamides' lust overrode any semblance of humanity he might have otherwise possessed. He didn't relent, didn't give her the chance to draw a breath. Instead, he continued his brutal assault, driving deeper into her throat, squeezing his hand tighter, her need for oxygen just not a factor in his desire for pleasure.

Gwen's vision narrowed, the edges of her world fading to black as her body screamed.

And then, everything went black.

~~~~~~~

Where was Gwen? It was definitely like her to be late, but two drinks in she started to wonder if she'd been stood up. Wouldn't have been the first time. Two guys in the neighborhood of rich / frat / finance douche took up position next to Miki. She held out as long as she could, but the moment the words "...she looks kind of desperate, you got this, broham," collided with Miki's auditory cortex she was out the door. Fucking Gwen.

Miki burned out her anger studying, then made herself a hot tea and climbed in bed, compartmentalizing her financial stress into a quiet basement section of her brain so she could drift into sleep.

The alarm clock's shrill cry shattered the fragile web of sleep Miki had managed to weave around herself, dragging her, somewhat unwillingly, into the new day. The room seemed to sway as she sat up, a wave of exhaustion washing over her.

This week she'd been cutting her mom's archive of digitized episodes of "Murder She Wrote," "Cold Case," "Crossing Jordan," "CSI," and by special request, "Law & Order: SVU," into digestible chunks for Professor Deal's class analyzing the procedural process. It was a grind to get done on time, but last night's outing had put Miki behind. She threw on yoga pants and an old t-shirt, whipped up an omelet for breakfast, then began the arduous task of reviewing the questions from her upcoming review session on wills. Still no Gwen.