The Dollhouse Pt. 04

Author's note:

Thanks so much for reading Chapter 4.

In Chapters 1 through 3 we've gotten to know second year law student Miki Lenz, some of her interests, frustrations, and potential. Her best friend since childhood, Gwen, has gone missing under suspicious circumstances, and Miki has spent the better part of the first three chapters trying to gain access to The Dollhouse, a brothel and escort agency where she discovers Gwen was working up until she fell off the radar.

In this chapter, Miki takes the bull by the horns, so to speak, and makes her first foray directly into The Dollhouse, so this chapter includes some dubious consent. Miki makes her own choices, but she's being dealt a very challenging hand, and must do things well out of her comfort zone, things she wouldn't otherwise agree to, or she won't be able to make any headway finding her missing friend. If that bothers you, please reconsider reading this installment.

All characters are 18+ years of age, and bear no resemblance to any real persons, living or deceased.

This work is 100% fiction and sexual fantasy.

~~~~~~~

It had been over two weeks, and Gwen was still missing.

No calls, no texts, no sightings. Having made only a little progress with James' 'interrogations' of two Dollhouse escorts over the last two days, Miki was at a crossroads. Take the next step, crazy as it truly was, or leave Gwen's fate in the hands of the police. All she needed to back out of her self-admittedly insane plan to go undercover as an escort at The Dollhouse, was a shred of hope, and that's exactly what she was looking for at Lt. Thompson's office. With any luck he'd found some kind of tangible lead and Gwen would be back home soon.

Miki couldn't decide if he was bored or tired, his expression was impassive as he motioned for her to sit, his undersize and overaged chair squeaking like fingernails on a chalkboard with every little motion he made. "I've been through my notes, Ms. Lenz," he began, fingers tapping on his desk. "Your friend Gwen is quite a piece of work. She'd been on the Dollhouse website for about a month, and then poof, her profile is pulled." He paused, looked Miki in the eye, and took a deep breath in something of an effort to punctuate what he was about to reveal. "She was taking money for sex."

A sick feeling settled in Miki's stomach as she processed the information. "That seems a little obvious now, doesn't it? All I care about is finding her. Are you any closer to that? Or are we getting to the part where she's 'just a sex worker' and we can sweep this whole thing under the bureaucratic carpet?"

Lieutenant Thompson shrugged. "It tells us where and how much she was at risk. And we're still hopeful. But no, we're not any closer." He sounded more tired than bored, like he was trying, but couldn't quite muster the energy to sound sympathetic to Miki.

Miki exhaled. She wanted to scream, but what she really needed were results. Instead, she gazed coyly down at her hands. "Don't you have any undercover officers? Could they go in?"

Thompson leaned back in his chair. "For a missing persons case? I'm sorry, Ms. Lenz, but that's not how it works."

"But like there are undercover officers, right? If you did have one how would you go about it?"

Thompson rolled his eyes. Miki backpedaled. "Purely an academic inquiry. Help me understand, as a law student, how you would build a case, say for future prosecution, against The Dollhouse and its operators?"

Fucking lawyers. Always thought they knew more than cops. He was going to play along to get rid of her, but he didn't have to love it. "Ok... first it would have to be a criminal case. Murder, drugs, kidnapping, something like that. We'd choose an officer, build a backstory. In this case it's tricky, because we can't ask our officers to enter a situation like this where they'll have to... you know."

"Yes Lieutenant, I can only imagine the H-R nightmare trying to sign off on a city employee selling her... self." Miki raised her eyebrows and smirked.

Thompson continued, unironically, "...exactly. So we'd have to use a contractor or an informant. Informants are best, but I've confirmed we don't have any there at this time. So one of our officers would 'run' a contractor, getting regular reports back, so forth, until we either gathered sufficient information to make arrests, or deemed the case non-viable."

"So they're just like going to do this for the money and thrills? And what happens if the undercover person is in danger?" This was the actual point of Miki's question.

"We attempt to exfiltrate them. Usually they just get out before the poopoo hits the fan too hard, but you never really know, and getting sufficient evidence to put a case together can mean taking serious risks."

"Sounds dangerous. Why on earth would anyone choose to do that?"

"People get into this for all kinds of reasons. Some do it for justice, some for kicks, who the hell knows."

She stayed silent, her chest tight with questions she couldn't ask about all the unknowns that lay ahead.

Lieutenant Thompson rose from his chair, signaling the end of their meeting. "Miss Lenz, all I can tell you is we'll keep looking."

~~~~~~~

Back at home, Miki studied the card that Misty had given James last night. Once she made the call she was committed. There was no point in backing out, unless Gwen miraculously showed up, and that was looking less likely with each passing day. No, she accepted that she was going to have to jump down this rabbit hole. But first she needed to calm the fuck down. She poured herself a glass of cheap red wine and downed it, then another, until the last butterfly in her warming gut sputtered and drowned. Then she dialed.

"Hello, you've reached The Dollhouse, how may we be of service?" It was the same sultry voice as when Miki dialed the number she'd found on Gwen's closet floor.

"Hi. My name is M... Niki. I'm looking for Serena Lane, please." She held the phone away from her face and exhaled her terror.

"This is Serena, how can I help you Niki?"

"Oh, hello Ms. Lane. The reason I'm calling is... I'm looking for... um... work."

"Are you aware of the nature of the work we do here, Niki?"

"I am. My friend James told me about you. He said he had the best time of his life with Misty. And Honey. And I've been wanting to do something like this for a while."

"We don't normally set up interviews with anyone we don't know, is there anyone that can vouch for you?"

"Just my friend James, like I mentioned, he hired Misty day before yesterday, and Misty and Honey last night." Miki could hear the telltale tip-tap of a keyboard over the phone, and then ten seconds of dead air.

"Come see me tomorrow at four thirty p.m. We're at 1856 DeHaviland Dr."

"Oh thank you so much Ms. Lane. I'm really looking forward to meeting you."

"See you tomorrow, darling, and don't be late."

"Bye."

Miki hung up. Her vision had tunneled halfway through the conversation, by the end she was hyperventilating and on the verge of blacking out. She steadied herself and took a few slow, deep breaths. I can do this. I'm going to be ok. I'm going to find Gwen.

She'd ticked off the first task to start next phase of her investigation. Now she needed to look the part. Going through her wardrobe she realized the sexiest article of clothing she owned was the summer dress she'd bought with Gwen, but it didn't scream 'Dollhouse'. She needed something sluttier, but a quick scan online confirmed she didn't have enough savings to buy any of the things that came up on her search. She dialed James. "Hey, it's me, Miki."

"Oh hey."

"You like thrift shopping, right? Is there a cool store around that might have something... slutty I can afford?"

James chuckled. "Try Plastic Fantastic. I'll text you the address."

"Anything closer?"

"Yeah but not as good. I'll give you a lift, I need some stuff from there anyway."

"I don't know..." She already felt like she was in above her head, and this felt potentially... invasive.

"C'mon, just a lift. I'll keep myself busy while you find what you need."

"Ok thanks." Maybe it would be better with him there.

~~~~~~~

James held the door open as Miki entered the wonderfully air conditioned store. It had been unseasonably hot and she was grateful for the rush of cool air. "So where is the slut section?"

"Not sure there's a 'slut section' per se, but there's usually some spicy items in the two rows near the back wall."

Miki b-lined for the racks he gestured towards, she was on a mission. James peeled off to the right, as promised, and settled in at the counter, browsing the selection of rings, flasks, wallets, patches, and other accessories.

She wasn't a fan of clothes shopping. She'd ordered most of her wardrobe on Amazon since starting law school, and it showed. Ill fitting, bland, boring. This place, in contrast, was an inspiration, and well worth the effort. She picked two outfits with the kind assistance of Roman, a Roxy Music era Brian Eno lookalike, and stepped into the changing room to see if these things even fit.

"James...," she called out from behind the closed curtain. The strapless black leather bustier corset fit very tight, she was going to need help getting the zipper in the back all the way up.

He stood just outside the room. "You find anything?"

"Um... yeah. I need help."

"Are you decent?"

"Not exactly, but come in anyway."

For the second day in a row James' jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Miki wore fishnet stockings, a wicked little black lace thong with an art deco floral lace trim on the semi sheer y-front (and nothing but a strip of floss in the back), and the half zipped bustier. It's wildly oversized, highly polished stainless steel zipper reminded him of a barracuda's grin. The front of the piece was even more bizarre, with two rows of what looked like little polished steel ski boot buckles and leather straps for a cinching corset effect. It wasn't a herringbone torture chamber, but it was tighter than anything Miki had ever worn.

She pointed at her back. "Close your face and zip me up."

James went to work, struggling to get the zipper topped out, his manliness at stake. He finally decided to work smart and unbuckled the front, managed to easily zip the back, then snapped the buckles back on the front side. Miki winced, then settled in. Her tits, what little there were, spilled over the low cut top, the crests of her nipples peeking out. The bottom of the bustier corset was quite short, leaving plenty of Miki's sexy tummy and hips to for hungry eyes to feast on. They walked out of the tiny curtained room together.

She was mildly shocked at what she saw as she came to a stop at the full length mirror. James took a deep breath. "You look... amazing." Roman's subtle nod and sly grin almost had Miki feeling like this was a good idea.

"I look like a half dressed vampire hooker. Which is good, I guess. Gonna try the other one." Miki stopped at the entrance of the changing room and pointed at her back again.

James wrestled with the zipper, too embarrassed to grope Miki's front for the buckles twice in the same day, finally drawing it all the way down. He paused momentarily to take in the sinews and muscles in her naked back, rippling under her taught alabaster skin as she clutched the bustier against her with both arms to prevent it from falling. "I'll be right outside, let me know if you need me."

Miki stepped out of the dressing room and stood awkwardly at the mirror next to where James was waiting. She looked extremely delicious in a tiny black rubber miniskirt and an orange, super-fuzzy, synthetic angora tube top that struggled to cover both the bottoms and tops of her little breasts, leaving some cleavage and a hint of underboob to the elements, and to the admiring eyes of anyone who happened to be looking in her direction.

James swallowed. "Fuck... me...".

"Do I look ridiculous? Feels like Garfield and a hipster alpaca gave birth on my chest..."

Roman shook his head, "that one was made for you. Takes big balls and just the right body to pull it off."

Miki forced a polite smile of appreciation, but her face was beet red and she was more than a little embarrassed. She was hyper conscious of how much of her ass cheeks hung out from under the too short skirt, how much of her body was exposed in this public place she'd never been before. She tried to tell herself it was like going to the beach, but there was a reason she'd stayed away from there most of her 'adult' life.

She also realized this was but a small taste of what she'd have to endure if she actually went through with her hare brained scheme to infiltrate The Dollhouse as an escort. Shaking off her embarrassment, she changed back into her sensible, comfortingly modest clothes, then paid for everything she'd tried on. It was a bargain at only ninety five dollars, the most expensive item being the thong panties which were, mercifully, not vintage.

"I'm starving." Miki needed even more comfort after the embarrassment of being near naked in a public place.

They stopped at a deli and James paid for two sandwiches, then returned to James' beat up orange 1992 Volvo 240 station wagon and devoured their food. James looked at Miki between bites and his heart raced. It was a little bit painful. He loved the glimpses of her he'd been treated to these last few days, physical and otherwise. Yes, she was so beautiful, but she was also funny, resourceful, and crazy smart. So why on earth was she still dead set on going through with this surely-doomed-to-failure plan? "I really want you to think this through, Miki... what you're about to do."

"I have."

"I know you want to help your friend, and I do too. But you can't do this."

"James, the cops have nothing. I can't just abandon her."

"No, not abandon her... but you're not a prostitute. You're a beautiful, smart, and responsible law student. I know I'm going to sound like a huge dick for saying this, but Gwen's an adult —"

"...and she made her choices. Yeah, I got almost the same speech from Lt. Thompson. So let me ask you, do you have a better idea?"

"Yes. Stay away from The Dollhouse and just be a responsible law student..."

Miki smirked.

James looked her in the eye. "Ok, say your mind is made up and this is going to happen. What are you going to tell this Serena Lane when she interviews you?

"Well Ms. Lane, it's been my life's aspiration to let a stranger fuck me in the ass for money...". She looked pissed.

James couldn't let it go. "I don't know what kind of shit they ask in situations like this. And then she's going to want to see your... wares. Like what if she wants to try you out, or has some goon there to take you for a test ride?"

"Fuck James. I don't know. Sounds like you've got a whole fantasy cooked up there. She's going to ask me whatever questions and I'm going to be honest: I'm a law student, I'm flat broke, and I need money to pay tuition and expenses." Some of the steam went out of her, it was all so true.

"Right, and when she gives you a 'physical' inspection? I mean why would she hire someone who's stuff she hasn't seen?"

"Fuck off."

Their food finished, James started the car and drove off in the direction of home. "I'm sorry. I'm just really worried for you. And Gwen."

"No, I'm sorry. You're trying to be helpful and I'm being a bitch. If I have to get naked I'll get naked." She knew she sounded delusional.

Back at home Miki laid her smutty new costumes out on the bed and wondered how she'd manage being seen in public in those, let alone take them off, if asked. Her stomach cartwheeled as she pictured herself standing naked in front of Serena and her random 'test driver'. James was right. She needed to get comfortable with all of this or she was dead meat.

She hopped in the shower and let the hot water sooth her tight muscles and frayed nerves. When she was done she toweled off, dried her hair, applied sparing amounts of mascara, eyeliner, and the sexiest red lipstick she could find, then took a long look at herself in the mirror. Could she? Was she good looking enough to even get hired at The Dollhouse? James thought so, but he had a crush so he was unreliable. Roland at the thrift shop seemed to like her in both outfits, but he was making a sale, so equally unreliable.

Before she walked into her meeting with Serena one thing was for sure, she was going to need some serious confidence, confidence she didn't have right now. She put on the bustier and finished the ensemble with stockings and her thong panties, then threw on a brown, knee length wool overcoat to cover herself. She went to Gwen's closet. Their feet were the same size, and she was sure Gwen wouldn't mind. She picked the most fuck-me pair high heeled sandals she could find. They had clear plastic straps and there was just something extraordinarily sexy about how her feet barely fit into them, the angle they held her in, the way they accentuated her calves and ankles, and the virtual nakedness of her foot. She held her phone in her hands for around twenty seconds to gather courage, then dialed James. "You home? Can I come over?"

James opened the door to Miki hiding inside the overcoat, holding the thrift store shopping bag. She smiled at him and entered. "I need practice."

"Practice for what?"

"This." Miki dropped the coat, blushing again in her lewd state of dress. He'd seen her in both of these already, but still her bluster had fled as she pondered how far she was going to take this. Her breasts were pushed up so tight they were almost the same color as her cheeks, and her nipples were staging a semi-successful prison break, she could see more of them with each move she made.

James could not take his eyes off her. The fishnets accentuated her legs, from her shapely calves to her firm thighs, crowned by her tight, ample ass. The faint lines of a six pack under the white skin of her tummy were made all the more enticing as they disappeared beneath the black leather corset-like bustier, and those breasts... how he longed to touch them. And that thong wasn't fooling anybody. Her pussy was right under there, barely a few millimeters of semi sheer fabric separating it from fresh air and prying eyes, and acres of delectable ass on the other side.

Miki's head was all over the place. She felt awkward and embarrassed, yet she couldn't help but notice the effect she was having on James. He was staring at her chest, her crotch, all over, and it wasn't making her baseline uneasiness any worse. As she stood, taking shallow breaths in the restrictive and oddly comforting bustier, anxiety waned, yielding to relief, and a twinge of delight. He was reacting well, made evident by the bulge forming in his pants. If she could just get over the initial butterflies here... like Gwen used to say: 'you have to face your fears, and the only way to do that is to embrace them and push on through.' Wise words from someone so lost. "I don't know... I feel like a skank."

"You look beautiful, Miki."

"I'm glad you like it. I still need some time to get used to these." She pointed at the Plastic Fantastic shopping bag.

James nodded. "You can use my bedroom to change."

Miki disappeared into the bedroom, and minutes later emerged wearing the black rubbered fabric miniskirt and orange fuzzy tube top. "I kind of like this one. I'd actually wear it if my butt and my boobs weren't hanging out so much."

"I'm going to say that is, for sure, part of its charm."

"Which do you like better, my butt and my boobs, or both outfits?"

"I like all four of your things." He looked a little exasperated. She was baiting and he fell for it like a hormonal pubescent.

"I'm just fucking with you, James."