Page 16 of The Doll Factory
“From now on, you’ll be my little Candy doll.Only twelve years old, okay?That’s why we have to put it in your ass, so that we don’t get my little girl pregnant.”
He must really be trying to make me vomit, but I maintain a firm gaze on the horizon.At the end of the long stretch we approach another black door that leads us into a white, sterile room with signs pointing to a Check Out area and beyond, a metal door that could be my way out.
Breaths come more freely as we approach.On the side are windows where a few women sit on stools and Freddy drags me over to one.
As soon as the man releases my hand and reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, I take off in a sprint.For some reason, I cannot speak, but a silent scream rips through my throat.
“Stop!What are you doing?Candy!Don’t move!”Freddy yells.
My brain tells me to obey, but I shake my head and keep moving.
It’s so difficult to operate this new body; everything feels foreign and disjointed.But I have to find the way out.
The bright lights in the hall change to a flashing red as a blaring alarm rings through the atmosphere, almost deafening me.I cover my ears with my hands, then shove a hip into the door bar to rush outside.
Busting through the door, I scramble to take in my surroundings.Brick alley of tall buildings.Metal fire escapes.Puddles of rain from the pouring storm above me that soak my now blonde hair into waves.It’s dark, desolate.Other than dumpsters, nothing else seems to be near.
I can’t remember the last time I saw the sky, but now it’s ferocious.Maybe it missed me as much as I did it.
I pick the direction to my right and head that way, running as fast as my elongated legs will allow.Figures emerge from the door I left and I hurry to the end of the alley as they search for me.Yells and splashes follow, echoing off the walls, creating a disorienting effect.
Freedom is only a few feet in front of me, but when I reach it, I make a silent cry.It’s a fence.Too high for me to climb.Nowhere to go under.Defeated, I turn and face my chasers, a group of security guards.
Am I resigned to this fate?
A small staircase leads underground and ends with a tiny metal door just to my left.I hurry down the steps and hope that I can enter it without my posse following.When I grip the handle, it gives and I toss it open, then hurriedly slam it shut.
My heart sinks.
The area I’m in looks familiar, like the labs I was transformed in.Though the red lights are still flashing at regular intervals here, the alarm has been silenced.With a hand tucked into the stitch in my side, I amble away from where the guards may enter, trying to find a spot to hide.
But as I round the corner, my breath halts in my lungs.
Dr.Miles stands at the other end of a hallway, leaning against the wall, one leg tucked up and his arms crossed over his broad chest.With the crimson waves flashing over him and the tilt of his head, his scar appears like it’s freshly cut, making his face look like he’s bleeding.And his eyes narrow as he spots me.
When I jerk to run away, I heard one command.“Freeze.”
I do.
Every synapse stops its messaging.Muscles grind to a halt.Even my panting breaths crystalize in my chest.
The doctor holds up a remote control, dangling it as if showcasing a new toy.“Your kill switch.”
With a strolling gait, he walks straight at me, stuffing the little box in his suit coat pocket.He stands before me with a slight smile on his face, an expression I have never seen him hold.
It’s absolutely terrifying.
“Youaremy most absolute perfect creation and do you know why, my doll?”He strokes his chin with a fist and pauses dramatically before continuing.“Let me show you why.Walk with me.”
My feet obey, but my brain is still trying to overcome his words.What if he truly hurts me?I think I may rather go with Freddy.If I’m traveling away from here, maybe there’s a better chance of escape.Perhaps he’s taking me back to my new husband?
Instead, we enter a lab room, probably one I’ve been in before.It contains a white leather examination chair in the center, with stirrups on the bent legs jutting out from the bottom.“Get in your chair.”
I do, all the while my voice wants to break free to scream.To resist.But my instinct to move the opposite as he tells me fails.
Once I’m strapped in, he lowers the top of my dress, exposing my nipples completely.Then, he stands between my thighs and digs his girthy length from his trousers.My pussy pulses at the sight of it, knowing how violated I felt earlier when he was inside.Not because of him being there, but because of the orgasm he made me feel.
It felt like it wasn’t programming and I hated it.
