Hollow Dolls, The by MT Dahl

against his tight bindings. His face
had gone vanilla, his body finally rested as still as the marble. Everything
about Phillip had a darkly polished rich-boy finish. He had the markings of a
bad wolf.
    Mel had been studying where the veins and arteries were on the
human body. She ran the blade gently along the side of his temple, opening the
skin and severing a superficial temporal vein. The blood streamed freely onto
the marble, leaving a deep red glisten on the blackness. His cock was still
hard.
    “What did he feel inside now, this bad wolf?” they all wondered.
    She tapped the tip of the blade on his ball gag, which made him
blink. “Nervous?” she said, and cut a tiny slit into the corner of his nose.
    Phillip groaned and again tried unsuccessfully to generate a bit
more freedom of movement out of his bound predicament. Mel lifted her hips
up, careful not to let him slip out. She r an the
knife edge gently along his inner thigh, opening the skin to a shallow depth.
As she crossed his belly with the blade, blood trickled down his abdomen and over
his testicles. She pushed the sac to one side with enough pressure to open the
sagging skin. A testicle popped out like an eyeball.
    “Phillip, your tools are nice and sharp,” she said.
    Soon Phillip had lost enough blood to become unconscious. Mel
pulled the gag out of his mouth. His comatose lips slowly closed. The curved
knife slipped easily through the skin on his neck severing the carotid. Blood
gushed. She dipped her finger into the flow and painted a smile. Now she was
the little man inside the machine, handing them out to the plastic dolls. Candy
smiles. She smudged his blood all over her legs and hips, belly and breasts, as
she sat on him. He’d gone all soft now. Massaging her hood ring, his cum and
blood mixed on her fingers. The stickiness triggered them into a three way
orgasm. They walked around the room, each in their own way released. There
would be no turning back from their mission now.
    In the full length bathroom mirror Mel gazed at a horror movie
image. She was a naked poster girl; blood smeared everywhere on her pale white
skin. The seriousness of what she’d just done came over her.
     It was time to clean up.
    Mel showered, then gathered plastic gloves and a spray bottle
filled with some watered-down bleach. She covered her tracks, cleaned
everything she’d touched.
     
    The Xanax she ’d taken that stuck to the back of her tongue came loose as she guzzled the last of the nouveau. The colorful
trailing stars she saw through the living room window told her she was spun again. In his photo stash, some of the girls were
so hideously carved up, they resembled slaughterhouse beef.
    “Note to self,” she said. “Quit being so easy on these fuckers.”
    On his cell phone were dozens of girls’ pictures. Mel shook her
head looking at Oksana’s. She’d only met her by chance in the club because Jugi
got too high. Her first clue of what was really going on around her. Now,
reluctant to admit that she hadn’t seen any of it, Mel blamed Melanie for
dragging her into an infatuation with Cara.
    “Stupid little cunt.”
    Melanie often made her angry, and the little brat knew she was in
the wrong. Although it wasn’t totally true. Mel had been the one who trusted
Cara, who cared for her so much. But Melanie quickly disrespected Cara verbally
to Mel. Cara had entranced Melanie. She took the blame and for allowing Cara to
make her feel like a sister and begged Mel’s forgiveness. Cara was losing
appeal now for both of them, since they’d learned of her betrayal. A common
enemy. They’d never been able to share this directly. Mel confessed to Melanie
that she’d been too quick to let some girls in the past know too much about both
of them. She told Melanie it is was a weakness of hers. They felt better having
shared.
     
    Mel placed the folder and phone on the passenger’s seat after
she climbed into Winnie’s car. She had the slave-girl’s photos