Hey all, Annabelle here with the latest installment. The first half of this chapter is a flashback from Beth's perspective, so you are going to want to read from the beginning if you are new to the series. To that end, have you ever had to keep a secret? Even though I am busy, I still read every comment, every email I get. And so many of you have asked this question, and I so desperately wanted to answer, but it had to remain a surprise...until today. So without further ado, I pose the following question.
*****
What About the Creepy Doll?
"Actually, there is something." Mike carefully walked around the furniture in the room, pulling the doll from the mantle of the fireplace. He came back, handing it to her. The docile porcelain features of the doll gazed imploringly into Beth's eyes, as if it was sad to be leaving.
"I don't care how, just get rid of it." Beth realized that even she thought the doll was spooky. Staring into its painted eyes, she couldn't help but laugh.
"I'm on it. Have a good night, Mike." She left him, a stranger in a strange place, her heels clicking softly on the pavement of the sidewalk until she got to her car. Looking back, she saw Mike waving at her and gave him a wave in return. Entering her car, she contemplated the doll briefly before sitting it in the passenger seat.
"I don't think a seat belt is going to work for you," she informed the doll, starting up the car and pulling away. The house shrank away in her rearview mirror, a many layered mystery she was hoping to explore a bit more sometime. The drive to the office was fast-the home was in the older part of the city, meaning it was closer to the new business district that was built ten years ago. Stopping inside, she dropped off some of the paperwork Mike had already filled out for her, and then made a couple notes on her work computer. Getting back in her car, she smiled at the doll.
"You're much too special to just be tossed," she said. She had been obsessed with the house since she was little, and she wasn't yet ready to part with such an unexpected treasure, no matter how creepy it was. The doll had a porcelain face with a cloth body, and it wore a pale red dress. It stared out the car window as they drove, and Beth contemplated how ethical it would be to keep or sell it. Technically, Mike had given it to her for disposal, but now she worried what sort of implications it may have if it turned out the doll was somehow worth a lot of money.
She pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex. Beth lived by herself, and found that the Highrise was the perfect place to live. It had a gym that she frequented on a regular basis, a pool that was open during the summer, and she was only minutes from the big shopping center that had the best clothing stores for forty miles in any direction. She picked up her files and the doll, carrying them into the elevator and pushing the button for the top floor.
On the ride up, she held the doll gently, inspecting its face. The dark eyes looked sad, as if it somehow knew it had been given away. She wondered what little child had purchased the doll, once upon a time, and if it had been loved.
She also wondered if it was wearing underwear. Tilting the doll over, she lifted the skirt to reveal a carefully knit pair of white panties under the dress. Feeling weird for even thinking such a thing, she tucked it under her arm when the door opened, walking down the long hallway to her apartment. It was small, but it was hers. Only six hundred square feet, it had a small kitchen which turned into her bedroom. She never bothered having company over-there were plenty of more interesting places to meet friends in town. She set the doll on the counter next to her files and walked into the bathroom.
Finishing her business, she came back out to see that the doll was facing toward the bathroom. Had she set it down that way? Shivering, she walked into her kitchen to prepare herself some tea, pulling the loose leaf mint from its tin and stuffing it in her tea ball. She added a liberal amount of honey, stirring it with a silver spoon gently as it steeped.
"What am I going to do with you?" she asked the doll. The doll answered her with a blank stare. She picked up the doll and walked over to her bed. Above her bed she had installed cute little box shelves to place books and other collectibles in. Tilting a signed copy of The Hobbit to one side, she made a space for the doll. Fiddling with the doll, she realized that something was written on the bottom of its left foot.
"Jenny," she said aloud. The y had been written backwards, a testament to that long ago child that had loved such a thing. "Ok Jenny. I guess you're my new roommate for the time being."
Picking up her tea, she walked over to the large bay window that overlooked the city. She opened the curtains, letting in the waning light of evening, and turned the crank on the window, letting in some fresh air. The evenings were hard on the buildings aging HVAC system.
Beth sipped her tea, staring out the window of her apartment. The park across from her building was hosting multiple soccer games, kids of all ages storming the field, swarms of flesh and colors running back and forth on a green canvas. Beth's email was open on her MacBook, and she saw that the Historical Society had sent her an email already.
Beth sighed. Elizabeth was super persistent. She opened it to discover that Elizabeth had left some paperwork at the office for Mike to look over. In an odd way, she hoped that Mike would keep the house. There was something cute about his awkwardness, and maybe even a little sweet. He had been nice enough, and he at least looked in her eyes when she spoke to him.
Not that she would have minded if he had looked. Maybe just a little. She let her left hand run gently across the exposed skin of her breast, felt the lace of her bra through the thin fabric of her blouse. She shivered, picturing Mike's eyes on her body, imagining that monster in his pants swelling up. She had noticed that the bulge in his jeans was clearly tucked down one leg of his pants. It had been easiest to see when he had laid in the tub, his arms spread wide as he remarked on the largeness of the tub.
"Hop in. Plenty of room," he had said, that vulnerability about him momentarily gone. He had blushed, suddenly shy once more. It was everything Beth could do not to crawl in with him and pounce.
She shivered, the gnawing sensation in her gut growing larger. How long had it been? So many long hours lately, not enough time to enjoy the simpler things. Suddenly, her tea was too warm for her, the flavor too bland. She needed something stronger, something to help her loosen up. She meticulously washed the teacup out by hand in her kitchenette, staring at the foot of her bed, across from her mirror.
Not yet. She opened her fridge, pulling out the bottle of merlot. She smiled as she poured it, feeling her pussy getting moist already. It was a ritual, a familiar one, her Pavlovian response kicking in. Merlot was her weakness, a single glass shattering her inhibitions, the drink responsible for most of her sexual conquests. Drinking merlot almost always meant getting fucked, taken roughly, trying something new.
She put on some music, the Bluetooth speaker above her bed singing to her from her playlist. She sipped her wine, swaying her hips to the music, delighting in the sensation of her thighs squeezing together and catching just the tip of her lips through her panties, tugging gently down on her clitoral hood.
One hand held the glass, the other squeezed her breast. She was her own lover for tonight, the one that would pay attention to all her needs, the one who would help her toward that sweet release. The wine was half gone, and she set it down on the kitchen counter, approaching the door to her closet. She opened the closet door, kneeling gently to put her heels in the empty spot of her shoe rack where they belonged. Tucked to the side of the rack was a hard shelled briefcase that had once belonged to her father. It was black, with a pair of combination locks on the latches. Carrying it to her bed, she laid the suitcase on its side, putting in both combinations. While she wasn't worried about somebody stumbling on the case, she always took it with her when traveling, and she couldn't afford to have it accidentally open.
She opened the case, the afternoon light from her window illuminating the contents within. She sipped once more at her wine, contemplating the collection of erotic dildos inside. They weren't just ordinary dildos-each one was drastically different, meticulously crafted into odd cocks that could only be found in the kinds of fantasy novels hidden away from the public. There were six of them, organized left to right by width, and top to bottom by length.
She trailed her fingers across each one, shivering in anticipation. She needed something special tonight, needed to be paralyzed with pleasure, to shake until she collapsed. She pulled out the Delightful Dragon, nine inches of solid rubber, its head half the size of her fist with large bumps all the way down.
"You've come to take me away to your lair, haven't you?" she whispered to it, her voice tinted with the odor of wine. Holding it in her arms, she traced all along the head of the cock with her fingers, making circles around the nubs. "But I'm afraid my kingdom doesn't have any gold with which to repay you. Maybe we can come to an arrangement?"
She kissed the dragon dildo on its narrow tip. "Perhaps a mutually beneficial arrangement." Her tongue licked at the thick, wide ridge designed to hold the head inside of her. She paused to sip some more at her wine-she hadn't eaten in hours, and it was going straight to her head. She let the dildo rest between her breasts, savoring the shear heft of its weight against her bosom. It was by far her heaviest.