The Dollhouse Pt. 02

Author's note:

This is part 2 of an ongoing series, meant to be read in order. If you haven't read part 1 please do.

~~~~~~~

An institutional haze of dust and grime wafted around Miki Lenz as she stepped through the front doors of the police station, the smell of stale coffee and Old Spice assaulting her nose like a sledgehammer. It had now been well over forty eight hours since she'd heard from her best friend, Gwen DiMatteo. This was an anomaly. By now, Gwen would have texted or called, especially since she stood Miki up for drinks at The Frolic Room. She squinted against the fluorescent lights and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself as she made her way towards the desk sergeant. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the worn-out furniture, that specific combination of navy blue seat upholstery and bruised wood desks only found in city stations, the scratched computer screens, inspirational management posters, and a muted flatscreen playing the news in the corner. It wasn't exactly welcoming, but it wasn't as depressing as she'd imagined on the way over.

"Excuse me." Her voice squeaked in a failed attempt to sound friendly. Maybe it was the knowledge that some day she would be forced to make decisions, as a lawyer or prosecutor, that would put her on the other side of the thin blue line, but she felt a little less comfortable here than she knew she should. The desk Sergeant peered up from his paperwork, his face impassive. "I need to report a missing person."

He nodded, showing no real interest, and pointed her down the hall. She made her way to a sign on the door: 'Missing Persons', swallowed as she opened it and stepped inside, taking a seat across from Lt. Derrick Thompson.

Thompson had a face like the backside of an old motorcycle jacket, weathered and worn but still holding some charm. He smiled at her, "What can I do for you today, Miss?" His slightly high pitched drawl was at odds with his otherwise hard boiled appearance.

Miki cleared her throat, trying to keep her emotions in check. "I'm here about my roommate... my best friend, Gwen DiMatteo. She's been missing for two days now." She fumbled in her bag, pulling out a picture of Gwen from last summer. Thompson took the photo and glanced at it before setting it on his desk. "What can you tell me about her?" He leaned back in his chair.

Miki described Gwen--her wild, free spirit, her passion for life, she even mentioned the rumors about her working as a prostitute or escort. Anything to bring Gwen back. She also mentioned how responsible Gwen was, how she never missed classes, and even when she was off on some 'adventure' she always checked in, a phone call or text. "We've been like sisters since grade school."

Thompson snorted. "Sisters, huh? Well, let me tell you something, sisters disappear on each other every day. Secret rendezvous, lovers' quarrels..." He took another drag from his cloyingly sweet smelling vape. "It usually doesn't end well."

Miki winced at Thompson's negative tone, especially the offhand comment about a 'lovers' quarrel'. Gwen never kept secrets from her. They were best friends; they shared everything. As it turns out, Gwen was full of secrets. "Gwen wouldn't do that."

Thompson studied her for a moment before responding, "You might be surprised what people get up to when you're not looking."

Miki clenched her left fist as she spoke, a jolt of anger welling up. "She's a psych major, we go to the same University, we live together. Sure, she's a little wild, and sometimes she stays out... but I just know something's wrong. She wouldn't drop off the radar for this long."

Thompson nodded as he blew out another billowing cloud of bubblegum vape, his expression unchanging. "We'll look into it. But most cases like this end in one of two ways: the person in question returns of their own free will, or... they don't."

"Just promise me you'll do something... find her." The taste of bile rose in Miki's throat as a litany of the worst scenarios infested her mind like angry hornets.

"Like I said, we'll look into it." he promised as he handed her a card with a number on it. "If she turns up, call me."

She nodded, taking the card. "Thank you."

Miki's heart ached as she made her way out of the station. The sound of keys jingling and metal chairs scraping against the floor echoed then faded away as she pushed the heavy glass doors open and walked into the brisk night air.

She ambled several blocks back to her apartment, looking for any sign of Gwen but knowing it was futile. Her mind raced. She wished she could see inside those motels and apartments, peek into the dark corners of every room to see where her friend was hiding.

~~~~~~~

Miki turned the knob on Gwen's bedroom door and pushed it open, resolving to find something, anything that could help the police locate her friend. The musty scent of old perfume and stale air hit her nose, driving home the message that Gwen had been gone too long. She took a step inside and felt the familiarity of her friend's intimate space wash over her, and was overwhelmed by the weight of her absence.

She'd combed over it once already, the empty bottles of vodka under the bed, pills tucked away in her sock drawer, and the clothes, slutty even by Gwen's standards. Secrets and more secrets.

And hour of searching and she'd found nothing helpful.

She poured herself a tall glass of iced tea and started again. Twenty minutes and three deja-vu later, there was something on the floor of Gwen's closet. It must have fallen out when Miki was rifling through her clothes last time: a torn piece of paper with a phone number. A guy maybe, or one of her study group friends. Something.

Emotionally exhausted, almost in a daze, Miki dialed the number. A sultry female voice answered. "Hello, you've reached The Dollhouse. How may I be of service?"

"Um, hi," Miki's mind raced, caught off guard. What the fuck was The Dollhouse? "I'm looking for Gwen, is she there?"

"Gwen? I'm sorry, we don't have anybody here by that name..." Miki thought she detected faint note of hesitation in the woman's voice, but she was frazzled and it could just as easily have been her own imagination. "...I've got another call coming in, would you mind being on hold for a minute?"

"Sure that's fine, thank you." Miki quickly made her way to her desk, opened a browser on her laptop, and did a search for 'The Dollhouse'. She clicked the top result, and a plain black page loaded, nothing on it but 'The Dollhouse' written in simple gold courier font in the center of the page. No other hints. She tried clicking on the words but nothing happened. She hovered her cursor around the page for what seemed like forever, finally clicking when her pointer transformed into the telltale cartoon hand indicating an html link. A new page loaded: 'Ladies and Gentlemen Available for Social Functions, Dinner Engagements, or Private Arrangements', whatever that was. Miki assumed sex. The pretentious capitalization of each word irritated her. She clicked on 'Ladies' and another page loaded, this time with portraits... or were they headshots... of alluring women of all races, types. It reminded her of a restaurant menu. As soon as the cursor hovered over a portrait, a floating price list loaded. Doordash with a side of happy ending.

Masia, a stunning southeast asian looking woman with black hair, olive skin, and crystal dark eyes could be hers for dinner for $500/hr, social functions for $800/hr, and private arrangements for $1200/hr. Was Gwen on here? Miki scoured the portraits but couldn't find her.

The sultry woman's voice came back on the line, "sorry to keep you waiting. Is there anything else I can do for you? I'm sorry we don't have this 'Gwen' for you, but we do have a number of lovely ladies on call tonight, if you tell me your preferences I'd be happy to help you make a selection."

"Hmm yes I see that, but I was really hoping for Gwen, a friend told me how great she is. If she's not available tonight is there a better time for me to call?"

"I'm sorry, we really don't have anyone by that name working here, I don't know what to tell you." The sultry voice had grown an impatient edge.

"Well that's ok, I'll try another time I guess. Thanks for your kind assistance."

"Of course, and please feel free to call back if you decide on any of our services, I'll be happy to help you once you know who or what you want."

Miki hung up. Her gut insisted that this was a lead, Gwen was, in some way, involved in The Dollhouse. Perhaps she could hire an escort, go through the list one by one, until she found somebody that knew more about what happened. If she could even afford it. There was still some money in her bank account... she looked over the 'menu' again, and one girl stood out. She couldn't put her finger on it, but if there was anybody that Gwen would have hung out with, or even been attracted to, it would have been Misty. She radiated a supermodel-next-door vibe that was right up Gwen's alley.

After twenty minutes of calculated mental plotting and consideration, Miki grudgingly decided she needed a man's assistance. It would have just been so much simpler to have an experienced man like Detective Thompson at the wheel. Any prostitute would smell Miki's ulterior motive from a mile away, but perhaps in the course of... erm... intercourse a man could penetrate the professional facade and extract secrets that a simple conversation would never approach. But Thompson was a cop, and it was ridiculous to think he'd fuck an escort for a case. Well probably not, anyway. She did know one guy who'd might be eager to help.

~~~~~~~

James opened the door wearing a white terrycloth bathrobe and holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate. He was about to turn in for the night, and here, to his shock, was Miki Lenz, the object of his unspoken desires for the last two months, standing in the hallway in front of his door, wearing a pair of semi-tight cut-off jeans shorts and a Ramones t-shirt, the same one she was wearing the first time he saw here, start of the semester, in the lobby of their apartment building. God... those legs.

"Oh wow, hi Miki."

"Hi James. You going to leave me standing here, alone in the hallway?" Miki knew she was playing dirty, but she needed James' help.

"Ha. No. Yes. I mean come on in." James adjusted his messy hair and motioned Miki to enter.

"Thanks. Nice place. Is that hot chocolate I smell?" She smiled and looked him in the eyes.

James avoided her gaze nervously. "It helps me sleep. Sit down, let me make you a cup."

Miki took a seat on the sofa. "That's ok, I'm on a no sugar no dairy thing." She adopted a very serious expression, "James... I need ask you a huge favor."

"Anything."

Miki filled James in on the events of the last couple of days surrounding Gwen's disappearance. Gwen and James weren't friends, but they knew each other a little and he seemed genuinely concerned. Miki locked eyes with him, this time putting on a soft, pleasant demeanor as she spoke, "so the thing is, it looks like she might have been working as an escort at a place called the Dollhouse right before she disappeared."

"No way. Gwen? Are you serious?"

"When I called they denied knowing her, but I got the feeling something was off. Can you help me, please?" She fluttered her eyelids for emphasis and immediately regretted the absurd display of emotional dishonesty.

"Sure. What can I do?"

"I need you to hire an escort."

James, speechless, stared at Miki with an expression of embarrassed disbelief. After a moment to regroup he replied, "you're joking, right?"

"I'm dead serious. I don't think I can pull it off, but they're not going to bat an eyelid if you do it. I've got the one picked out that I think Gwen would have gravitated to, as a friend or whatever, and maybe you can get what I can't?"

James looked nervous. Miki wondered if he was inexperienced, intimidated, weirded out, or just morally opposed to prostitution.

"You want me to actually... um... do them?"

'Do them.' For some reason this broke the ice with her. She laughed, reached out and put her hand on his knee. "Yes James, I want you to fuck her senseless, pump her for information, leave her in a quivering puddle of wet ecstasy begging to tell you her secrets."

"I don't know if I can do that. I mean I can have sex with her, and you're really putting me on the spot here admitting this, but it's not like I'm some kind of porn star, I'm just a regular guy who occasionally gets lucky."

"That's ok, maybe I can help you prepare."

James' eyes lit up.

Miki smiled and shook her head, "not like that. I mean tell me how you would, you know, approach this, and maybe I can give you some notes. From a female perspective." She pulled her shoulders back, knowing that her nipples were going to a little stir under the worn black t-shirt fabric. It was punching below the belt, but this was Gwen's safety at stake.

James took a deep breath. "Sure. Um... I guess I start with kissing. Usually. Some tongue. Do escorts do that, even? I never... you know."

"So far so good. Honestly? I don't know, either. Go on."

"If I feel like things are going my way, I guess in this case it's a given, I'd touch her boobs while I'm kissing her."

"Mmhmm, that sounds really good James." Miki swayed her shoulders a bit. Her breasts were too small for any real jiggle even though she was braless under the t-shirt, but she figured it would still catch his eye and keep him talking.

"And then maybe kiss her neck, down the side. I had a girl do that to me one time, it was amazing, so I'd really like to do that to y-- her. And eventually I'd touch down there. I never know if it's ok to just do that, but I guess if she's turned on, you know moving like that, making sounds? In this case at least I don't have to wonder too much." He knew he was babbling, but it was just so awkward and nerve-wracking to talk about these things in front of Miki Lenz of all people.

"You sound like an attentive lover so far. I'd add kisses on her nipples. I know I really like that. You could run the bottom of your tongue over her nipples, feel them get hard, then you know you can move on to the next phase."

James face blushed as he pictured his tongue on Miki's gorgeous little breasts.

"Maybe I'd ask her to undress, since I'm paying."

"Sounds fair."

"I'm assuming she's pretty hot, right? I'd be turned on. I mean my..."

"Your cock will be hard as a rock. She's beautiful, at least I think so."

"Ha. Shit. Ok." James inhaled deeply, tamping down some of the overt arousal he was experiencing as Miki talked about his hard penis. "It's hard."

Miki looked down at the bathrobe tent formed over James' crotch. It was pulsing a bit. She blushed.

"It looks very hard right now. You might need to, you know... relieve yourself so you can last long enough to get the information?"

"Like after we're done?"

Miki shrugged her shoulders, and then her cheeks flushed a bit. This was so fucking weird. Was she asking him to pull out his cock and show it to her? "I guess if it's too hard to wait I don't mind if you..."

James' face turned beet red. He looked like he couldn't decide wether he wanted to throw off his robe and leap on Miki or run for his dignity and his life.

Miki could tell she was at risk of losing him. She pushed his knee to the side a bit. "Ok, I admit maybe it'd be kind of hot to watch you." It felt a lot like when she and Gwen were younger and experimenting with nudity, showing each other theirs... exciting and naughty. As soon as she said it, though, she regretted it. This wasn't her 'sister', this was a guy she barely knew. So not like her, so fucked up and unfair to James, and it was probably going to become some kind of creepy sexual fantasy or total nightmare. But it did serve several purposes.

One: cement James' contribution to the cause.

Two: make sure he knows what he's doing.

Three: make sure he doesn't blow his wad too quickly when the rubber meets the road, so to speak.

These were professionals at The Dollhouse, and no doubt they were financially motivated to satisfy quickly and move on to the next client. She wondered how many strangers a call girl serviced in a typical workday.

James slipped his hand inside his robe and she could see the outline of his fingers wrapping around his pole. He was still beet red, and he clumsily moved his hand up and down, trying so very hard not to let the robe open, to not make too much commotion down there.

"Keep talking, I want to hear what you're going to do next to get Misty to open up."

"Fuck, this is so weird."

"Just go with it. I need you, James. Prove to me you can do this." Miki felt a surge of excitement at her power over him. She leaned forward, maintaining eye contact, then leaned some more and 'adjusted' her converse low tops, hoping that he got a little sneak peak at her little tits as the worn, loose shirt was tugged away from her breasts by gravity. He did notice. Her breasts hung so nicely from her chest, little white mounds capped by dusky areolae and long, proud nipples. He couldn't believe where this night was going.

She noticed him pick up the pace, his cock peaked out momentarily as his hand launched the robe fabric. It was so dirty, a little gross, and surprisingly a big turn-on. She could feel herself clench, her panties hot and moist already. But this was about Gwen, and not shitting where she ate.

James had given up on keeping the robe closed, his cock out on full display, stroking himself more earnestly now that he'd settled in and accepted the humiliating weirdness of jacking off in front of a 'fully' clothed Miki. She glanced down to get a better look. He had a very nice looking cock, as cocks go.

His forefinger rubbed the bottom of his head, the frenulum as she'd learned in freshman bio class, as his hand slid up and down, the soft, tacky skin pulled taught over the throbbing shaft in his grip. "I'd kiss her down there, her lips, you know. Get it all nice and wet, suck on them first, and then her little thing. Clit." He couldn't look her in the eyes, so he stared at her full lips, a hint of red lipstick but otherwise all natural, so kissable. He wanted to taste her lips so badly.

"You need her to suck your cock though, seriously. Give her some attention downstairs, but take control, be assertive, and take what you want. Believe me, lots of women like that." His cock was dry, it looked a little painful. Miki scanned the room hoping something lube-y would jump out at her. Nothing did. Ok... this was about to get ten times weirder... she leaned over his lap and spit on his cock, getting it nice and moist with her warm saliva, then settled back in her seat as if nothing unusual had just occurred. "She'd wrap her lips around your cock and then what would you do?"

James groaned. What the fuck was that? Her teasing was going to be the death of him. He could feel his orgasm pounding at the door, but he needed to show Miki he could perform, so he visualized soggy french fries and a third baseman spitting out a wet brown wad of Skoal chewing tobacco and pressed on. "I'd put my hands on her head I guess, and gently pull her towards me. Oh god, I'd shove my cock deep in her soft, wet mouth, watching it go in and out, her beautiful lips... Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I can't..."

"Not yet, James, we still have..." she pointed at her crotch "...down there to go, and you still have questions to ask. Don't mess this up." He almost bit through his tongue trying to hold back the rush of climax.

"I'd pull out of her mouth so I don't cum right away. I've already put my fingers in her vagina, so I know it's wet enough, or lube I guess, and then I'd lay her on her back, lean over her, and tease my cock at her lips, right by her hole. And then I'd push it in, slowly. Oh my fucking god. Better ask some questions right the fuck now because I don't have much time left!"