Rose's Dolly

This story contains themes and discussion of nonconsensual, rough, painful sex. Proceed with caution.

*

Dylan paced his room, thinking. Surely, someone of his genius level intellect should be able to find a way out of this situation.

It was Tuesday now, and if he didn't find a way out soon he'd have to go over to Rose's house and model girly clothes for her again and, probably, let her sodomize him again, or else she'd release the video of her fucking him in the ass the first time. God, he'd been so edgy ever since last Thursday. For one thing, the hickey Rose had given him still hadn't cleared up. Dylan owned exactly one turtleneck sweater, which he had been wearing every time he left the frat house in the event he unexpectedly ran into Kim, to be sure she wouldn't see it on his neck. He'd only actually hung out with her once since the thing with Rose, they'd grabbed dinner over the weekend and she'd commented on the sweater.

"Isn't it kind of warm for that?" she'd asked. And it was warm out, he was a bit too hot wearing it. She herself was wearing white short shorts and a loose fitting olive green tank top. Most people they'd seen around were wearing short sleeves.

But he had just said, "Pff, I'm comfortable." And, thinking back, he probably could have just left it at that, but instead he said, "Aren't you kind of cold dressed so slutty?" And she hadn't said anything to that, but she'd stiffened, her nostrils flared.

"Not to be, like, you know, judgmental or anything. No offense meant." He had fiddled with his fork for a second. "I like it, actually. You look good."

Not looking at him, she'd just said, "Thanks." They ate the rest of their meal in silence.

He knew he should reach out to her, say something nice, just chat, maybe even apologize if it came to that, but he couldn't think of anything to say. His thoughts were consumed by the situation with Rose, how she had him over a barrel, how she was just going to keep having her way with him for however long she kept wanting him. How trapped he was. But he knew he couldn't talk about it with Kim. If she didn't consider what had happened to be a betrayal, she'd for sure see him as weak, a sissy, a fag, forever after that. So if he had to be a bit of a dickhead to hide the situation from her, well, that's what he had to do.

He sighed. It really was an awful burden to be a heterosexual male. Can't be too much of a jerk or your girlfriend will be mad at you all the time, can't show any weakness whatsoever or your girlfriend will irreversibly find you unfuckable, forever. Can't blame them for it, really, it's just biology.

The biology of females, he felt he had a pretty good grasp on. The biology of the futanari, on the other hand, he wasn't so sure about. It ate at him, what Rose said about futa cum, how now that she'd jizzed in his ass he'd start craving girly clothes and futa cock. He'd never heard anything like that about futa cum, and he certainly didn't trust anything that came out of Rose's mouth, but he couldn't find anything on the internet that confirmed or disconfirmed the claim.

Obviously, her fucking him was on his mind constantly, how could it not be? But sometimes, he would get hard thinking about it. And his mind kept going back to when Rose had made him kiss her cheek, and his lips, his own lips, had left a lipstick stain. For some reason, he kind of... wanted it again. He had this recurring fantasy, now, about wearing lipstick to kiss Kim. But he didn't want to want it.

Of course, the darker fear was that he was always a depraved little sissy freak. After all, she had made him cum with her cock up his ass twice before he'd ever received her seed...

He shook his head. This is probably nothing, he told himself, she was probably lying about futa cum, and he was probably just psyching himself out over what she'd said, and probably all this stuff was creeping into his fantasy world because it was just always on his mind now, and probably all these weird feelings would dissipate with time.

Probably.

He tried thinking about it logically. Didn't it seem implausible that a substance put up his butt could affect his brain like that?

Crap, no, he knew alcohol could be taken rectally.

Okay, but could something put up his butt affect his mind long-term like that?

Well, there was syphilis. Dammit.

There were two other boys that he knew of that Rose had targeted that night she'd been in the frat house; Chris LaMotta and Brayden Bell, who called himself "The Bray". Chris had been avoiding him ever since that night, shooting him resentful side-eyed looks whenever they passed each other, so Dylan didn't really know what was going on with him. But Brayden... there were lots of rumors. Clay and Rick had both told Dylan in confidence that Bray had gotten wasted in the middle of the day hanging out with them one on one and tried really hard to suck their cocks, and Vic swore up and down that he'd seen Bray messing around on Grindr. Dylan had no evidence that Bray was into cock before Rose had gotten him, so he could really only see this as evidence that Rose's claim about futa cum was true.

He sighed and flopped down on the bed. It would ease his mind considerably to get some confirmation as to whether Chris had gone all faggy, but he didn't particularly think Chris would take kindly to being asked directly. If he could steal his phone somehow, check for gay sex apps or pictures of other men's cocks saved to his phone, or something, well, that would be more evidence.

If he found nothing, would that make him feel better? He didn't know.

A spark hit his brain. Of course, if he was going to go through someone's phone, obviously it should be Rose's. He supposed she might have moved the video she took from her phone, but if he could get in there and delete it... or, even better, find something in there he could blackmail her with then maybe, just maybe, he could escape from his current predicament.

Yes, yes, brilliant, he had a plan now.

So, under cover of darkness, he went out to Sodom House. He was wearing sunglasses and a hoodie, made it hard to see in the middle of the night but hopefully it would prevent him being recognized. He walked up the stairs to the house and gave the front door a tug. Locked. Well, that makes sense. He went over to the window right next to the door, to see if he could get that open. No luck. It occurred to him, much too late really, that he didn't have much of a plan to get in if none of the doors or windows were unlocked. He supposed he could just break a window and barge in. High-risk strategy, but if he could find something incriminating on Rose, it was all worth it.

Suddenly a light turned on in the house. He froze. He could hear footsteps coming closer. Oh God, oh shit, oh fuck...

The front door swung open, and Rose Nail herself, dressed in baggy sweatpants and a low cut white undershirt, stepped out into the night air. Her head turned over toward him. She gave him a wave. Nonchalantly she said, "Oh, hey Dolly."

Crap.

He started sprinting away, down the stairs and toward the sidewalk, but he hadn't even made it off the property before Rose caught up with him and tackled him to the ground.

"Hey, where ya goin'?" she hissed into his ear. Her arms were wrapped around his body, her body pressed against his back, holding him in place on the ground. "What were you doing here, anyway?" she asked, sounding more curious than anything else. "Something sneaky?"

He wriggled uselessly under her. "Let me go," he grunted.

"Ohhh, I don't think you want that," Rose said, grinning, "I think you're out here cause you just couldn't wait until Thursday to see me again. Isn't that right, Dolly?"

"Stop calling me Dolly," he grumbled. Oh God, he could feel through all the layers of clothes how hard her cock was, grinding against his ass.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to get used to it, Dolly. Tell you what," she said, "I've had this concept for a video starring you, it's just been burning a hole in my brain all week. Wanna go upstairs and shoot?"

He sighed. "No, no please, it's so late, I just wanna go... ACK!"

She yanked on his hair, pulling him to his feet by it as she stood up. "Yeah? If it's so late, then what were you doing out here in the first place?"

"I... I..." He couldn't tell her he was trying to find some dirt on her, obviously, but he had no lie prepared. Dammit, he had basically nothing prepared for this situation.

"You wanted to see me again but you can't admit it," she said in a taunting singsong voice. She was facing him now, they were both on their feet and she still was holding him firmly by the hair. With her other hand, she ran a finger up and down his chest. "Don't worry sweetheart, if you need to still be able to pretend this is all against your will, I can make it-"

Her hand on his chest grabbed his nipple and twisted it hard. He let out desperate little "Ah! Ah! Ah!" noises.

"Reeeaaaal convincing." She shot him a smug grin. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I wanna put you in your new outfit." She started dragging him to the door by his hair.

"Argh," he grumbled, "can you at least let go of my fucking hair?"

"Nah."

He sighed. Internally, he made some sort of peace with the fact that this was going to happen again. Just get through it and go home.

For whatever reason, he endured the makeup going on more easily this time. Less eyelid twitching when she did the eyeliner, which made everything go considerably faster. Red lipstick this time as opposed to pink, felt less undignified.

The outfit was... well it was a little less undignified, he supposed. A slutty schoolgirl type of look, long white socks that went up to his thighs, blue and white plaid skirt, unrealistically short for a school uniform, white blouse that could almost pass as a dress shirt. Once Rose had put it on him, she rolled up the sleeves past his wrist and stuck a few pens in the front pocket. She clasped her hands together. "Masterpiece!" she declared.

"Yeah yeah," he grumbled.

"Oh, cheer up, Dolly," she said, and she grabbed his chin, pushing it up slightly. "And don't slouch."

He just rolled his eyes.

"Hmm, we'll be adjusting that attitude of yours soon enough," she said, an edge of frustration in her voice. "Alright, I'm going to go to the bathroom. Put myself together. I'm playing a character in the video too!" She seemed downright giddy about this. She grabbed Dylan by the shoulders and pulled his body close to hers, giving him a big wet kiss on the cheek. In his ear, she whispered, "Don't do anything I'd disapprove of while I'm gone. I will find out about it. Okay?"

"Yeah yeah... AH!"

She had given his asscheek a sharp squeeze. "Hmm, I know you'll be a good girl, won't you Dolly?"

He took a deep breath. "Sure."

She spent one more moment looking him over, gaze icy, appraising, studying him. He felt like she was looking for some sign that he was going to act out, but he had a pretty good poker face, he thought. He hoped.

"Smart girl," she said at last, and a moment later she disappeared behind the door.

As soon as she was gone Dylan jumped into action, scanning the room. He was quite certain she was bluffing when she said she'd know if he did anything she'd disapprove of. And goddammit, now was the perfect chance, he was in her room, alone, probably there would be no better time to go through her stuff. She seemed to have taken her phone down to the bathroom with her, but there was a laptop on the floor near the foot of the bed. He opened it up. Password protected, damn. He cycled through some basic common passwords, like "password", "swordfish", "12345". No luck. Maybe "RoseNail"? Nope. Maybe "RoseNail?"? No, that didn't work either.

He heard creaking coming from the stairwell. Dammit, dammit, dammit. He quickly but quietly closed up the laptop and returned it to its place at the foot of the bed. He was scrambling toward the chair, when he noticed that Rose's keys were still sitting on the dresser. He thought he could identify the silver key she had used to lock the front door behind her. He froze, his mind racing. Risky to try and swipe it now, but he couldn't resist, couldn't let this all be for nothing. He crept over to the dresser, quickly rolled the key off the keyring (creaks getting louder, she was near the top of the stairs) and scrambled over to the pile of clothes he'd taken off to put the key in the pocket of his jeans. He could hear the doorknob turn as he stuffed the key into his pants pocket. He scurried over to the wooden chair in the center of the room, and his ass had just barely made contact with the seat when the door swung open and Rose entered.

He sat there, petrified, eyes enormous.

Rose just grinned smugly at him. "Yeah, I know, I'm positively breathtaking right now, huh?"

Dylan blinked, and finally started actually seeing Rose. She was wearing a black suit jacket over a white dress blouse, top two buttons unbuttoned to show off an ample amount of cleavage. A tight black skirt, same material as the jacket, that went down to just above her knees, her lower legs covered by dark nylons. A pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and her hair was tied into a tight bun behind her head. Same deep red lipstick as normal. It was striking, usually Rose dressed in a very casual, unprofessional way, but here she was all business.

"Yeah," Dylan admitted, "you look incredibly hot. Are you supposed to be a teacher?"

"You nailed it," Rose said, shooting him a wink. "Yeah, I've got this whole teacher-student scenario planned out. Shit, I should've given you the script before I went down, let you read over your lines while I got ready."

"A script?" Dylan shook his head, "Nah, I'm not really much of an actor-"

"What, more of an actress then?" Rose said, eyes flashing at him behind her glasses.

That made Dylan sulky. "Stop it. I just mean, this might go better if you had someone who did acting."

"Aw, but you're already here. C'mon, we'll go downstairs, there's a desk down there that we can use for the teacher's desk, and you can read over the script for a while. But you really don't need to get the words exactly right as long as you get the, you know, feel of the scene right."

So Dylan sat at a chair in front of the desk a floor below Rose's room, reading the pages she provided him while Rose set up the recording equipment. "So this is really something that was burning a hole in your brain, huh?" he said, skeptically.

"I mean, yeah?" Rose said, sounding annoyed. "Are you fucking negging me you little bitch?"

"It's just, the whole thing seems pretty cliche. The student seduces the teacher to get a better grade? It's, like, been done." He looked up at her. "A lot."

"Yeah? And are the student and teacher usually both dickgirls?"

"Well, no..." he conceded.

"Besides, there's a turn coming midway through, you know," Rose said, grinning at him. "A reversal of power."

He flipped to the second page. "I don't see anything like that in the script."

"Oh yeah, I only scripted so far into the scene. Figured the rest can be, you know," her eyes flashed at him, "roleplay. And I want the turn to come as a surprise to you."

That made him nervous. "Oh... okay."

She pressed a couple buttons on the camera. "Alright, we're ready to go." Wide, sinister grin at Dylan. "So you back away from the teacher's desk, once I say go you give me about five seconds of looking at papers, then you approach the desk and give me your line, okay?"

Dylan boggled at her. "I really don't know if I can get all these lines yet."

She waved her hand dismissively. "As long as you get the gist of them. Okay, go."

He waited a few moments, watched as she made some marks on some papers with a red pen, and then shuffled toward the desk. "Uhhhh, hey Miss Nail, I needed to, uh, talk to you," he mumbled.

Rose looked up from her papers. "Ah, Dolly," she said, "what can I do for you?" God, he thought, she had the persona of a teacher down, this sort of clipped, buttoned down authoritarian veneer, so different from the freewheeling casual persona she normally presented.

"Uh, I need-"

"Speak up, girl, I can barely hear you."

That wasn't in the script, and threw Dylan off. "Uhhhh, I need to do something about, like, my grade..."

"Stop," Rose said, facepalming. "Dolly, you need to put some emotion into this, okay? Not this awkward flat-voiced trainwreck."

Ouch. "I, okay, I can try to emote."

She gestured at him to back away from the desk. "Let's just take this from the top."

Another five seconds of her marking papers with red pen, and then, "HEY Miss Nail, I need to TALK to you."

"Ah, Dolly. What can I do for you?"

"I NEED to do SOMEthing about my GRADE. I HAVE to PASS this CLASS-"

"Alright, no, wait," Rose stuck her hand up, seeming irritated. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm emoting!" he protested.

"Yeah, badly," she sneered.

"Well, like, I told you I'm not an actor. And this scene is so weird and fake and artificial, I don't see how I'm supposed to be able to elevate this crap..."

At this, Rose got up from her seat to catch Dylan in her grip, arms wrapped around him tightly. Directly into his ear, she softly growled, "Like I said last time, you'd do well not to insult me."

He rolled his eyes. "Sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

He sighed, exasperated. "What do you want from me?"

She took in a deep breath through her nose. "Listen, here's the character. You're a sexy slutty little schoolgirl, you can have anyone you want and you know it. You've seen this teacher looking at you, and so you know, you know in your fucking bones you can seduce her. And you know she's got a dick and you want it bad." Rose paused a moment, took a deep sniff of his neck, ran her fingernails down his back. "The advantage you have in this scene, I hope you realize, is that you actually are in a similar situation to this schoolgirl. Like the teacher, I hold the power in my hands to completely mess up your future, and the one advantage you have that might get you out of it is that I look at you in that schoolgirl outfit and," deep shuddering inhalation, her voice dropped to this low guttural growl, "I want to fuck your brains out. So use it. Own it. Work it. I'm letting you have control, just this once. Swagger up to me, get under my skin, seduce me. I'll put up some resistance, you'll push through it. I'm given to understand you were a real lady killer before you met your little girlfriend. So I know you can knock this out of the park, okay?"

He nodded, stricken by her intensity. "Y-yeah, okay."

"Hmmm, good." Peck on the cheek, and she released him from her grasp. "We take it from the top."

Dylan still felt awkward shuffling up to the desk a third time, he knew he sounded bashful and not at all swaggering when he said, "Hey Miss Nail, I need to talk to you."

But Rose looked up at him from her papers, and when she said, "Ah Dolly..." he could see it, the unmistakable glint of attraction in her eye. Well, obviously Rose was attracted to him, he knew that well enough, but suddenly he could look at Rose and see the character of this teacher. There was attraction there, yes, but the teacher was trying to hide it, trying to stay guarded, keep it professional.

And suddenly it all snapped into focus. He knew what he had to do.

He opened his mouth and a giggle came out, a cutesy girlish giggle. He felt dirty, wasn't sure where that had come from, but he kept going, "I need to do something about my grade. I need to pass this class or my parents won't buy me a car like they said they would."

"Ah," said the teacher, adjusting her glasses. "Well, you know I have a policy of not giving extra credit, but you do still have a chance to pass. You'll need to do very well on the final, and, you know, you'll have to actually start turning in your homework assignments. But you can do it."