The Dollhouse Society: Isabelle (New Adult BDSM Erotica)

by Eden Myles

  “Christ, Belle, I love the feel of you inside. You’re like heaven on earth.”

  “Thank you, sir…oh god!”

  He entered me a little ways before withdrawing. No matter how many times they took me, in whatever new way, it seemed I never got used to how big they were.

  “I’m working on a new song, Belle. I haven’t wanted to write in years, but with you, Belle…you make me want to do it again. You’re my muse in music the way you’re my brother’s muse in flesh.”

  I sighed at his admission. He kissed along the back of my neck, held me down, thrust into me fully, filled me.

  Just as we had discussed at the beginning of our association, we’d shared our medical records some weeks ago and had agreed to be exclusive. At my last OB-GYN appointment, I’d gotten an IUD implanted, so we wouldn’t need to worry about unwanted pregnancies or the need for condoms. We were protected and could be all to each other. My hips moved automatically, thrusting back against him to welcome him deeper still. His free hand went to my clit, and he ground the callused tip into it even as he pounded my ass.

  Since my sex was so sensitive from being recently used by Dorian, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he brought me. Damian thumped my ass with everything he had. He was much more vocal than his brother. As he took us both over the edge into release—my second of the evening—he shouted his release, held himself deep inside me, and drove his seed in a series of hot pulses deep inside me that left my legs shaking like gelatin.

  Damian held me against the desk to keep me from toppling to the floor and kissed all along the back of my neck. “My good girl,” he said, pulling out and yanking my skirt down over my dripping wet sex. He gave my ass a loving squeeze and added, “I needed that, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure serving you.”

  ***

  Myles finished talking about his emotional progress, how he had come to accept what had happened to him and was beginning to move on. As had become the ritual for our little support group, we finished the meeting with a group hug, then retired to the coffee machine for a cup of joe and the donuts that Lacy, one of the girls in our group, had brought.

  While I was munching on a chocolate-cream-filled donut, my favorite, Myles came up to me and said, “Thanks for sharing your story earlier, Iz. It really helped me think things through, you know?”

  “I’m glad,” I said, licking chocolate cream off my fingers. “I’m finding it’s a lot easier to talk about things these days.”

  “Me too.” His handsome face split in a wide grin and he said, “Would you like to hang out sometime? Catch a movie, maybe a bucket of chicken? My treat.”

  I’d half expected this would happen. The last few meetings, Myles was always talking to me, and sometimes he insisted on walking me through the darkened student parking lot to my car. In the beginning, I’d thought he was just being nice, but now I knew something was up.

  Before I’d met the Michaels brothers, I would have been flattered and elated to have landed a catch like Myles. But now I was sort of…taken.

  By two amazing guys. God, even my grandma didn’t know!

  He must have read my expression wrong, because he said, “I know you said you don’t date. If I’m triggering you…”

  “You’re not triggering me,” I told him honestly. “It’s not that. It’s…well…”

  He waited expectantly.

  I felt terrible for breaking his heart this way.

  “I’m kind of…involved with someone.” It was only a small lie, I figured, since there were two someones.

  “Oh.” He forced a smile, shrugged. “Forget I said anything. I just thought with you saying you don’t date and all…”

  “It’s kind of a friends-with-benefits type of thing,” I admitted, shrugging to show it was okay. Myles was sweet, and I really didn’t want to accidently lead him on, so when he offered to walk me to my car, I graciously declined.

  Unfortunately, I soon learned to regret my decision.

  The student parking lot was dark, and the few lights around the perimeter didn’t throw much illumination. I held my purse close, almost like a shield, and started across it to my car as quickly as possible. I was only vaguely aware of a sound behind me. But when I stopped to listen, I realized there was indeed someone walking a few yards behind me in the lot. I turned and squinted into the dark. “Myles?” Maybe he’d come out to watch over me anyway.

  No one answered. My heart ticked in my throat, faster and faster.

  But now I heard no footsteps.

  “You have to stop this, Iz,” I told myself. “You can’t jump at every shadow. We’re getting our shit together, remember?”

  I nodded at my own internal monologue, turned and started toward my car once more.

  The footsteps—now unmistakable—resumed behind me. The sound of them—heavy, male—made the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I thought of every slasher movie I’d ever seen. My heart quickly went from ticking to thudding thickly inside me.

  Again I stopped. And the footsteps stopped with me.

  I definitely knew something was up. Fear turned the air electric around me and made my mouth taste bitter. With a gasp of breath and a quick spurt of speed, I started racing toward the corner of the lot where I knew my car to be.

  The man behind me started running as well, matching me step for step. He was big and he overtook me easily.

  I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

  I reached into my purse for the pair of scissors I carried with me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find them. Shit. They were heavy; they’d fallen to the bottom.

  I was still digging when I finally reached the driver’s side of the car. I gave up searching for the scissors and pulled the keys from my pocket instead. The footsteps were just behind me now, not more than two feet. I felt hot breath on the back of my neck…

  There was no time to unlock the door. I spun around, lashing out at the man behind me with the keys, but he easily knocked them from my grip. The keys—my only weapon—spun off into the dark, glinting as they fell harmlessly to the asphalt. I opened my mouth to scream, to alert the others I was in trouble, wondering why I hadn’t done so already, but the man was suddenly standing there right in front of me, pinning me to the side of my car, and fear froze my voice inside me.

  I immediately recognized him—his trim, Gucci suit, his smug expression, the flash of his Rolex watch. “Clark…” I began, but he grabbed me around the neck and forced me back against the glass window of the car. The impact knocked the breath from me. My hair flew over my eyes, briefly obscuring my vision, but not enough that I couldn’t see the angry expression on his handsome face.

  “You fat, mouthy bitch! What have you been telling them?” he growled, drawing his face close to mine, then banging my head against the glass so my vision wavered.

  “W…what…?” I gasped for breath, unable to answer him.

  “What have you been telling them about me?” he repeated. “What have you and Christa been discussing?” His voice was ice cold, dead. He slammed my skull back against the glass again.

  Oh god, I was like a rag doll in his grasp. I couldn’t move; I could barely breathe. I gasped, his fingers painfully tight around my throat. I scratched at them, but it was like he felt no pain. “Nu…nothing!” I managed to gasp out.

  “You better not say anything. I told you what I do to bitches with big mouths! They get cut. They get hurt! You wanna get hurt, cow?”

  He slammed my head against the glass once more and I slumped down to a sitting position against the wheel well, my vision swimming, the parking lot teetering back and forth dangerously. I gasped and coughed, ripping at the collar of my university pullover so I could breathe better.

  He stepped back but pulled out a box cutter with an orange handle from his suit jacket, the kind you can buy from any home store. The sharp, triangular blade glinted in the sodium lights. “Keep your fucking mouth shut or I’ll mess up your
face. Then I’ll mess up your grandma. You get me, bitch?”

  “Y-yeah!” I coughed out.

  He was gone in seconds, like a boogeyman, like he’d never been there at all.

  Oh god, I thought. Oh god. Like a mantra it rolled round and round my brain. I covered my face with my hands and cried myself out before climbing back to my feet and getting into my car.

  ***

  “Earth to Belle, earth to Belle, come in, Belle.”

  I stopped vacuuming the same patch of carpet over and over and looked over my shoulder to see Damian standing in the doorway of the living room. He looked stunning in a tight blue T-shirt and snug jeans. There was a lopsided expression on his face and a B.C. Rich Warlock bass guitar around his middle. I’d never heard him stop playing in the other room. “Are you all right?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” I said. I turned off the vacuum and turned dutifully to face him. “Can I help you in some way?” I said. “Service you in some way, sir?”

  He laughed. “Not right now. Dorian’s in a consultation, and I’m writing your song…but I was wondering if you were free tonight for dinner?”

  “Yes, of course.” I beamed a smile. We didn’t go out every night, but when we did, the Michaels brothers always took me to some romantic little bistro or trattoria in an out-of-the-way place in the city that I’d never heard of before, and they’d insist I buy the most expensive thing on the menu. They often bought me ridiculously expensive gifts, completely spoiling me. Tonight would be no different. “What time should I be ready?”

  “We’ll pick you up in front of your dorm at seven. We have something to ask you tonight, something important.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m looking forward to it.”

  He looked me over with a frown and at the patch of carpeting I was killing with the Dyson. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “If you’re busy with schoolwork or have some other plans…?”

  It was Friday night. I had no plans, and even though Stefan and I often went to a movie, he’d recently met some hot football guy on campus. He was on cloud nine—and in the honeymoon phase of his relationship. As a result, we hadn’t had many platonic dates of late. I admit a part of me mourned what I feared might be the passing of our close relationship, but another part of me was really happy for him. He needed to find someone and be happy. He hadn’t had much happiness in his life so far.

  Besides, I needed to stop spilling myself to my best friend all the time and ruining his fun. Admittedly, he’d be pissed with me if he knew I wasn’t telling anyone about Clark’s return, but, I’d reasoned, Clark wasn’t his problem. It wasn’t anyone’s problem. It was mine. Eventually, when I felt a little bit safer, I would go to the police and confess everything.

  I’d get help. Soon.

  Of course, I’d been telling myself that for the past two weeks, and I still hadn’t gone. It was hard to feel safe these days.

  “I have nothing planned,” I told him honestly.

  He raised his roguish eyebrows. “Certain? You’ve been somewhat distracted of late.”

  I smiled winsomely. Over time, I’d learned to smile in a totally innocent way that made no one question what was going on inside my head. “I’m fine. My grandma isn’t feeling very well, but I know she’ll be all right. Plus, midterms are coming up. You know.” I shrugged.

  “Well, if you need to go visit your grandma, or need time to study, you let us know, all right?”

  “I will.”

  Damian ducked out of the room and I bit my lip and turned back to finish my vacuuming.

  ***

  Dinner was at a Mediterranean place. We had oysters on a half shell with tobacco sauce, one of my favorites. The three of us sat at a cozy-small table in a private room in the upper Manhattan eatery and I smiled and blushed as Dorian fed me oysters by hand and told me what they intended to do to be tonight. Damian sat beside me, occasionally licking the oyster liquor from my lips. He kissed me, his tongue twining with mine, which made Dorian frown with annoyance.

  Dorian disliked the way his brother sometimes monopolized their time with me, but just to show him how much I loved him as well, I slid my hand under the table, over his knee, and squeezed his sizable package. He was hard and I could feel the fullness of his testes through his tailor-made trousers. He grunted at my touch, and I leaned across the table so he could kiss me. “I can’t wait to feel you all the way inside me,” I told him.

  A few weeks ago I would have been mortified to talk so dirty to a man, but I trusted Dorian and Damian, was at ease with them. Loved them. Unfortunately.

  He touched my cheek and his eyes narrowed in that dangerously sexy way he had that made my heart flit like a wounded bird in my chest. “No worries. Tonight, Belle, I intend to send you home well used.”

  “Speaking of home,” Damian said, clearing his throat.

  “Oh yes,” said Dorian. He trailed his fingertips across my cheek, looked me deep in the eyes. “What would you say about being our partner in the practice and becoming a more permanent fixture in our lives?”

  My heart jumped. “What do you mean?”

  He looked at his brother and they passed that psychic signal between us. “Damian and I have decided we’d like you to come live with us at the house and manage our financial affairs. You said you were graduating with a major in business management, and, frankly, we could use a little management.”

  Damian laughed at that. “Dorian is too busy with the actual surgeries to be much help, and I’m no good with numbers, never have been. Besides, I’ve been thinking of starting up Suicide Kings again.”

  Dorian rolled his eyes. “If Damian does that, he’ll be even more indisposed. And, well, you’ve seen the office.”

  I had. Damian was perhaps even more disorganized than I was.

  “Of course we’ll pay you a fair wage,” Dorian said as if afraid I might turn him down. A “fair wage” to Dorian Michaels generally meant two or three times over what he ought to be paying me. “The playroom will be your room. The office will be your exclusive domain. We’ll pay you whatever you ask, both as our business manager and our courtesan.”

  I bit my lip. The first thing I wanted to say was yes, god yes, but then I re-thought that decision. I knew Clark was still out there. Just yesterday, after getting back from my support group, he’d slipped a note under my door that read Stay quiet or I’ll kill your grandmother, which meant there was no way I could go to the police now. I wasn’t even going back to my support group for fear that Clark would misinterpret it as some kind of conspiracy to come after him.

  God, when had my life turned into such a nightmare?

  I knew he was shadowing me, watching me. He’d know if I moved in with Dorian and Damian. He’d probably come around to threaten me. Then I would be putting the Michaels brothers in danger as well.

  On the surface, that didn’t seem like a big deal, and I was sure they could handle themselves, but they had not just a small operation theater, but also a convalescence hall for their more high-profile celebrity patients like Ms. Veronica, and sometimes they took care of pro bono cases at the house that required additional attention, the way Stefan’s many surgeries had. I’d be putting a huge amount of people—doctors, patients, celebrities, and regular folks—in danger by living with them.

  I knew Clark wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t back down. He was loaded. He could get out of anything the police threw at him. I just knew he would try to kill me.

  So I bit back that yes and said, “But what about my duties as housekeeper? I couldn’t possibly handle the office and the housecleaning.”

  Damian laughed. “We’ll hire a housekeeper, Belle.”

  “Can I think about it a while before making such a big decision?”

  I thought it was a reasonable request, but Dorian looked hurt, the first time I’d seen such an expression on his usually stoic face.

  I scrambled for an excuse. “I mean…Ms. Veronica sort of offered me
a chance at modeling,” I told him, which was not entirely a lie. But although I was flattered that she considered me pretty enough, I really had no desire to walk a runway or endure all the crap that models had to put up with. What I wanted was to stay with Dorian and Damian and be their business partner, their courtesan. There was a good, stable future in that. And besides, I loved them, and I think they loved me.

  The brothers exchanged one of their secret looks. They looked less than happy.

  “Of course.” Dorian took my hand and kissed my knuckles in that Old World way he had. “Take all the time you need, my dear.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Meanwhile…” He withdrew a diamond-studded collar from the inside of his suit coat and belted it tight around my neck, then attached a thin leash to the O-ring in it. He fisted the leash, drew me close, teased his tongue over my lips. “Let’s go home. You’re ours tonight, Belle, and we want to show you heaven.”

  ***

  My cell went off at two o’clock in the morning. I know because when it started doing its little vibrating dance on my bedside table, I peeked an eye open and saw the digital clock. My heart immediately started fluttering in my chest. After all, you only get bad news at two in the A.M. I immediately thought of my grandma. We’d spoken last night before I’d gone to bed, and she’d been in good spirits, not even overly anxious about her upcoming surgery, which I’d been able to fund.

  I snatched it up and looked at the unfamiliar number. That slowed my heart somewhat. I hit TALK and said in a groggy tone, “’ello?”

  “Iz?”

  I recognized the husky voice immediately. “Myles, what’s up?” I said, pulling myself up to a sitting position on the bed.

  “Iz…are you there?”

  “I’m here, Myles, what’s wrong?”

  “You didn’t come to tonight’s meetings.”

  “I know,” I said. “Some stuff came up.” I’d planned to quit formally, but just hadn’t found the courage to say goodbye to the bunch of people I considered close friends.