Page 83 of Toy No More

Chapter 22

Apollo

Desperatelytryingtocatchmy breath, I lie on my back, staring at the glistening ceiling above the platform. The voices surrounding me sound muffled and distant, even though the people are right there. Several sit around the suspended bed in the middle of the stage, and three others are recovering after finishing up with me.

At least my work for today is over. Theseimportant and very demanding new business partners,as Jasper called them, seem satisfied after being shown all the things they can do to my body, both pleasure and pain. Mostly pain.

I close my eyes, still trying to push aside those memories and recalling the way Kobe made me feel instead. But it keeps slipping away from me. That peaceful, intimate feeling is fading faster and faster with each bitter touch.

As I roll my head to the side, convincing myself to get up, I notice one of the guys who fucked me is wiping his cock into the satin sheet. I don’t know why it hits me that much, but suddenly I feel disgusting and dirty and need to get away.

Pulling myself up, I try to avoid their sleazy glances. They seemed pleased with the spectacle, the performance, so that’s my job done. With a thin blanket wrapped around me, I stumble through the crowd toward the backrooms and the showers. No one else is here. Sadie and the others went home, since the Dollhouse has been booked for these business partners’ private enjoyment of me.

‘Business partners.’ Tsk…

I let the water drum against my back while desperately fighting the urge to throw up. Jasper didn’t even care to tell me, but I know who they were. The traffickers. Everyone’s been whispering about it. None of the dolls like this new alliance. It’s…too much. Too far. But what is anyone to do about it? Not even I dare to voice any disagreement to Jasper, because there’s no point. I’m not in charge. I have no power.

Usually, that wouldn’t bother me. It’s what I’ve been used to since pretty much as early as I could remember. So why can’t I silence my thoughts about it now?

With a disgruntled sigh, I start cleaning myself. They definitely weren’t gentle with me. My ass aches. My insides ache. I want nothing more than to go home, put on some comfortable clothes and sleep.

I yelp at the sound of the door behind me opening. No one was supposed to be here, so I didn’t even lock it.

Jasper leans against the frame, peeking in with an amused smirk. “Funny that you still do that,” he says in a response to me covering my privates with my hands.

I frown and roll my eyes at him. “You scared me,” I mutter and turn to continue washing off the soap.

“You’ve been here for god knows how long. Had to make sure you didn’t drown.”

It feels like I just got here. “Oh. Sorry. Must’ve lost track of time.”

He snorts. “Hurry, we’re going home.”

Home.Yes. I want to be home.

I finish up quickly and throw on some random clothes I have lying around my wardrobe. When we reach the car, Jasper walks to the back with me, which means Kobe is driving us. I get all nervous and excited at the same time.

Sure, I look like crap and I hate that, but I haven’t talked to Kobe since I helped him with his heat. Since we had that…moment.

As soon as I sit down, I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. He waits for me, his gaze as tender as it was after we ended up in each other’s arms. It puts a stupid smile on my face.

Jasper notices.

I see his jaw muscles clench in my peripheral and quickly glance at him. The second I do, his expression softens, and he flashes me a smile like nothing happened. He pulls me in for a kiss. I worry he’ll try to pull the same fucked up performance he did before, but he doesn’t.

The rest of our ride home is uneventful and quiet.

I take care to not give Kobe even a goodbye look before I leave the car, no matter how much I want to. A fight with Jasper is the last thing I need tonight. All I can do is imagine Kobe’s faint smirk and recall the warmth of his touch as I walk up the stairs.

Jasper enters first, holding the door open for me. As he turns on the lights, I can’t help but compare what I see to Kobe’s home. I don’t know why. I barely saw any of it in the brief time I was there, and yet it stands in a stark contrast to what is in front of me now.

His place was lived in. Filled with so many little things. Cute homely clutter. The couch in his living room looked like it’s been dragged from apartment to apartment, reused and loved, marked with years of spilled cereals and accidents with ice cream on movie nights.

I look around me, and all I see is spotless.Perfect.

I always wanted a place like this. Instead of a tiny, stuffy room smelling of cigarette smoke that had cockroaches lurking in every nook and cranny, I’ve dreamed of an airy, modern home with large windows and brand new everything.

That’s exactly what I have. I should be happy, grateful. Fulfilled. Only…there’s nothing more to it. The paintings with gilded frames hanging on the walls mean nothing. They were expensive and they show status. That’s it. There’s no story or passion behind them. The sleek, sparkly kitchen has state-of-the-art appliances, but they’re worthless if we never spend our mornings there together eating breakfast and laughing.

---