Epilogue Dahlia
Bong. “Wake up, Dahlia. It’s time for breakfast.”
My eyes snapped open, and I glanced around the room. High end furnishing, art on the walls, plush carpeting, and mahogany wooden paneling. The bed was soft and warm, a refuge from the world. I didn’t want to leave.
“Hurry, Dahlia. Otherwise you will be punished,” the voice said again.
I tossed the covers off and stood, putting on my familiar gray sweat suit and sneakers. When I’d finally dressed, the door clicked, unlocked, and swung open. Out in the hall, I found the corridor vacant. As I walked down the hall, I ran my fingers across the wallpaper, enjoying the smoothness of it under my fingers.
As I approached the door to the dining room, I crossed my arms over my chest, slowed my steps, and put a look of fear and confusion on my face. When I crossed the threshold of the door, I cast my eyes about, taking in the room. Five people sat at a large table, eating pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. All five heads turned to watch me walk in.
“Oh, fuck,” a young man said. “Another one?”
“Wh…what is this place?” I asked, my voice shaking.
An older woman in her fifties stepped forward and took me by the arm. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s get you some food. We’ll explain.”
“Holy shit, Melinda,” a woman in her late twenties said. “You’re not her damned mother.”
I sat where the woman had indicated but didn’t reach for the food. Instead, I glanced around, panicked and terrified.
“Where am I? Who are you people? What the hell is happening?” I nearly screamed the last word, and I was proud of the tears I managed to work up.
“I’m Melinda,” the older woman said, putting a hand to her chest then pointing around the table at the others, naming them in turn. “Barry, Eric, Bella, and Sharon. We, well, uh, I supposed you’d call us captives.”
“Captives?” I gaped at her. “We’ve been kidnapped?”
“Damn, she’s a smart one,” the woman named Bella said.
“Who has us? Who are these people?” I asked.
The man named Eric finished swallowing a piece of bacon then said, “We don’t know his real name. He’s just a voice on the speaker. We call him Dick.”
“Does that, like, stand for something?” I said.
Eric laughed ruefully. “Uh, yeah. Dickhead, right?”
The others around the table chuckled along and continued to eat.
Bong. “Good morning, my lovely dolls. Please welcome your newest housemate. Her name is Dahlia, I trust you will make her stay very eventful.”
At the sound of the chime, the others all grew quiet, their shoulders tense as though waiting to be struck. I lifted my arm, showing them the device strapped there.
“What the hell is this thing?”
“Shhh,” Barry hissed.
Bong.“It seems Dahlia has spoken out of turn. Time to show her what our playhouse is all about.”
“Oh shit,” Sharon said, lowering her head even more.
“Dahlia,” Dick said. “Take the knife beside your plate and stab Melinda in the thigh.”
Melinda shuddered beside me but said nothing.
“What?” I gasped. “No. I won’t do that.”
“It’s fine,” Melinda whispered through a trembling breath. “I understand.”
Jumping up from the table, I backed away. “No,” I screamed at the speaker in the ceiling. “I’m not hurting someone. No way. Who the fuck are you?”
“I’m afraid I’ll need to punish you, Dahlia. For insubordination.”
A jolt of electricity burst through my arm, and I let out a little yelp, my pussy growing wet almost immediately, and I had to fight to hold back a smile and maintain my character.
“Melinda,” Dick said. “Punish yourself, or I will choose another doll to punish you worse.”
Without hesitation, Melinda grabbed her own knife and plunged it into the meat of her thigh, letting out a bark of agony as she did. Blood welled around the wound and seeped down her leg. She pressed a hand to her face and sobbed silently.
“Very good,” Dick said. “Do you see, Dahlia? Obedience is the only way.”
“Breakfast is over, everyone. Check your devices for your activities today. Dahlia, you will go to the music room.”
The door clicked open, and everyone rushed out, except Melinda, who hobbled toward the door and then out into the hall. I waited until everyone was gone before strolling out into the corridor. I made the well-practiced trip to the music room, glancing in at all the instruments, wondering when I’d get my next piano lesson, then walked past the room and further down the hall.
A large painting stood there, six feet tall and four feet wide. An oil painting of a young boy, with blond and combed hair in a black shirt and pants, on a chair beside him some type of small dog sat. The boy had his hand on the dog’s head. Hidden in the darkness of the painting, a small button sat inside the dog’s left eye. First glancing up and down the hall to ensure no dolls were present. With the coast clear, I reached forward and pressed it, enjoying the symbolism.
The button clicked, and the painting swung inward, revealing a small studio apartment. A bed, a small kitchenette, a bathroom, and a command center with a desk, computers, and over a dozen monitors. At the desk, Drake sat, a glass of what looked like red wine in his hand. As the concealed door swung shut again, he glanced up and smiled at me.
“Welcome back,” he said and waved me over.
“Did you have to shock me?” I asked, holding my device up.
Drake winked at me. “I thought realism would be important for your first time as a doll.”
“It’s not my first time, though,” I said.
He shrugged, and sat his wine glass down. “Semantics.”
“How are our folks doing?” I moved around the desk to peer at the video feeds.
“Fine. I have Sharon, Eric, and Barry in the gym. I’ve told them they need to do three hundred burpees in an hour. The last one to finish will be beaten by the other two.”
I picked up his glass and sipped at the wine. “You’re a real asshole, you know that?”
He grinned at me. “I think the name is Dick, actually.”
“What about the others?”
“Melinda is in her quarters. I’ve gassed her. In a while, I’ll sneak in there and tend to her wound while she sleeps. Bella has just arrived in the Playroom.”
“Oh,” I said, leaning forward to see better. “Which person did we put in there with her?”
“I chose the abusive grandfather. I thought that would have the best reaction compared to the boyfriend who raped her. He’s still in his holding cell. He’ll get his eventually, but Grandpa here will be a nice bit of therapy for our girl.”
On screen, Bella was approaching the old man in staggering steps, her hand to her face and tears streaming down her cheeks. The grandfather, bald with a thick gray beard hanging to his chest, struggled against the zip ties Drake had bound him with. We watched as Bella began to punish. First slapping him, then punching the man, all while tears and snot poured down the young woman’s chin.
Drake’s hand caressed my ass while the images played out on screen. Soon, Bella discovered the table of implements. She grabbed a hacksaw, and I reached forward to turn the sound on. Her sobs and the old man’s screams filled the small apartment, and Drake’s hands slid my sweatpants and panties down. I looked back and found he’d unzipped his pants and had his cock out.
“Oh my, that looks like fun,” I said, staring at his crotch. “Am I going to ride Dick’s dick?”
“Come here,” he growled and pulled me down to sit on his lap.
He slid into me, unleashing a moan of delight as he did. Sinking back, I rocked against his cock and watched as Bella began to work on cutting off her grandfather’s right hand. The hissing sound of the blade, the screams of agony, and Bella’s grunts of determination mixed with the sound of Drake’s panting.
Working my hips against his cock, a contented smile crossed my lips. This was my life now. Blood and pain, agony and revenge, punishment and redemption, all with Drake by my side. True love was a wonderful thing.
The End