Dollhouse

The first warning sign should have been how Marcus arranged his wallet. Elena noticed them when he handed over his card to the bartender--a perfect stack of business cards, memberships and credit cards, all facing the same direction, edges aligned with mathematical precision. He sat up extremely straight despite ostensibly spending all day on the computer. His eyes held the particular intensity of someone accustomed to getting what he wanted. She caught him occasionally glancing down at her cleavage. She'd decided to wear a particularly slutty dress in the hopes of making him nervous, but he was pretty unflappable.

"So you're out there hunting for lonely people," she'd said when he'd explained his startup over the bar's dim lighting. "And trapping them?"

He'd smiled then, not the practiced smile of someone selling something, but the crooked grin of someone who'd been caught. "Yeah."

He was a bit much, but mildly interesting and very hot. She wondered if he was any good at fucking. He had the aura of someone who would obsess over his fingering technique (or whatever) until it was maximally efficient. Which might be fun. She dutifully laughed at his jokes (they were few and far between) and looked all doe-eyed and impressed when he talked about his job until he suggested they head back to his place.

The Uber wound through the industrial bit of Greenpoint, past warehouses being gutted for condos, while Marcus spoke about user retention metrics and "taming the demons" in his AI training runs with equal zeal. Elena found herself studying his profile against the passing streetlights--the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his fingers flickered around as he explained things.

"You work with your hands a lot? As in actual work, not, like, coding?" she asked abruptly.

"Actually, yes. I'll show you."

"Oh will you now?"

His building was a converted textile factory, the kind of place where artists used to live before artists couldn't afford to live anywhere. The elevator was the old freight variety, all exposed mechanics, rising through floors of tech companies and design studios.

"I should mention," Marcus said as they reached his floor, key hesitating at the lock, "I have a.. weird setup in my apartment. Some people find it strange."

This was the first time in the whole evening that he didn't seem sure of himself.

"Okay." There was a pause. "Are you going to explain?"

"Where's the fun in that?" The confidence seemed to be back. They entered.

The apartment was ascetic but expensive-seeming--clean lines, strategic lighting. Money spent on emptiness. But it was the far room that drew her attention, where warm light spilled from what appeared to be a custom-built chamber. He saw her looking.

"Want anything to drink?" he asked.

"I'm good, thanks. What's in there? It's kind of spooky."

"Spooky? I don't think I'd describe it that way. Come on, let's look."

He led her through a doorway into what must have once been the master bedroom, now transformed into something between a museum and a prayer room. The floor was a single, massive diorama--half of it a miniature town that sprawled in perfect detail out from the left wall. Streets wound between buildings no taller than her knee, each window individually lit, each street lamp casting its own pool of amber light. Gardens bloomed in thumbnail parks, and she could make out the tiny figures of people huddled in groups. They were all women, for some reason. She spotted a couple of well dressed ladies chatting in a side street. The rest of the diorama was a mix of rivers, forests, and little hills with plenty of crags and jutting rocks.

"I make dioramas," Marcus said, watching her face. "It's not finished, of course. For instance, I need someone extra there." He pointed at the two ladies in the street corner. The insane amount of effort all this must have been was kind of both extremely off-putting and interesting at the same time.

"I thought you tech guys like, went climbing or did LSD in your spare time," she said.

"I'm saving doing LSD for if I get a bout of depression or chronic fatigue and I want to reset my neural pathways. I imagine it helps with psychedelic-assisted therapy if you've never done it before."

"Uh huh."

At the room's center was a circular void, a well of space where one could step down and be surrounded by the miniature city on all sides. Above, a narrow balcony ran along the wall, offering a god's-eye view of the entire landscape.

"Stand there," Marcus said, indicating the central space, his voice carrying an odd formality. "In the middle. You have to see it properly."

Elena kicked off her heels and stepped down into the viewing well. The city rose around her like the walls of some fantastic crater, each building rendered in obsessive detail. She could smell wood glue and paint, the faint ozone of tiny electrical circuits. From this vantage point, she was both giant and ant, towering over and dwarfed by the diorama.

"How long did this take?" she called back at him.

But Marcus had already moved to the balcony above, his silhouette dark against the city's glow, looking down at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Diminuere corpus, spiritus maneat," he began, his voice taking on a strange cadence. "Per virtutem artis meae, fiat voluntas mea."

"What are you--" Elena started, but the words felt thick in her throat. The room began to tilt, or maybe she was tilting. The miniature buildings around her seemed to grow taller, their windows brightening, their details sharpening with impossible clarity. Weirdly, her pussy started throbbing wildly, like all of the sensation from the outside world was pooling inside it.

Her body felt like it was falling upward and shrinking inward simultaneously. Her vision blurred, then snapped into hyperfocus. When it cleared, she was no longer looking down at the diorama.

She was in it.

Elena found herself standing among towering pine trees, each needle distinct and sharp.

The ground beneath her bare feet was actual earth, damp and cool, scattered with tiny pebbles that felt enormous against her skin. As if possessed, she reached down into her panties and touched herself. She jumped in shock. Touching her clit felt amazing, it was a hundred times better than it normally was. Despite everything, she found herself masturbating, moaning uncontrollably. She slid down to the forest floor, and came, with the orgasm lasting impossibly long, like the volume was turned up.

Eventually, the sensation subsided. Weird. Maybe horniness was a side effort of... whatever the hell just happened to her. Panic shot through her as she realized the scale of her predicament--she was maybe six inches tall, lost in what had been Marcus's forest section.

"What the fuck," she whispered, her voice sounding strange and small in the vast woodland. She clambered up, and spun around, trying to get her bearings. The trees stretched impossibly high above her, and in the distance she could make out the glowing windows of the miniature town, now a proper city from her perspective.

She started running, crashing through underbrush that came up to her chest, stumbling over roots thick as her waist. Her heart hammered as she tried to process what was happening. This was impossible. This was--

Suddenly, the sky darkened. A massive shadow fell over the forest, and Elena looked up to see Marcus's face, enormous and intent, peering down from what seemed like a vast height. His expression was focused, analytical..

His hand descended toward her, fingers the size of tree trunks. Elena screamed and tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. His thumb and forefinger closed around her with gentle but irresistible precision, lifting her from the forest floor and forcing her arms into her body.

"Perfect," she heard him say, his voice now a deep rumble that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "But you're in the wrong section."

She attempted to wriggle free as best as she could, kicking out her legs, but she was entirely trapped.

His other hand swooped in and neatly ripped her dress off.

"What the fuck!" she screamed at him. He laughed, almost a giggle.

"That's better. Now everyone can see those nice tits of yours."

"I knew you were a... fucking... weirdo!"

She tried to bite his thumb but he spotted her and slowly pushed her head back with a finger.

"Don't be naughty. You don't want to be there anyway, the forest is mostly boring. The town," he whooshed her down "is where you can have some fun."

He placed her on a street corner and she stumbled as he retracted his hand and disappeared from view. She drew ragged breaths and looked around. The town seemed to be empty. The detail that had seemed impressive from above was overwhelming from within--every brick individually placed, tiny window boxes with flowers no bigger than pinheads, street lamps that cast actual pools of warm light. The air hummed, and she could hear the faint mechanical whirring of what might have been tiny ventilation systems.

Heart beating out of her chest, she looked around for somewhere to take cover. She darted into a doorway, looking up for any signs of Marcus. Just the towering balcony in the distance, and the warm LED light beaming down from all sides. She slid down the wall and wrapped her arms around herself.

"First time?"

Elena jumped, pressing herself further against the doorframe. A man had appeared from around the corner--normal height for her current size, wearing what looked like a business suit that had seen better days. He was maybe forty, with graying temples and the kind of smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm Dave," he said, extending a hand. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. I know it must be a lot. I've been here about two years now. You learn the ropes."

Elena stared at him, still naked and shivering. "This is insane."

Dave glanced up at the sky, then back at her. "Come on, let's get you something to wear. Standing out here in the open isn't smart when he's watching." He shrugged off his jacket--actual miniature fabric, she noticed, not Marcus's precise craftsmanship--and handed it to her. "There's a place nearby."

Elena pulled on the jacket, which barely covered her, and obviously still left her bottom half viewable. He didn't seem very concerned with giving her any more modesty.

"What's your name?"

"Oh... E-Elena. How many of us are there?" she asked as they started walking down the perfectly detailed street.

"More than you'd think. Less than there used to be." Dave's tone was deliberately casual. "Some people manage to... well there are ways to please Marcus. And also... natural turnover, you know?"

"What happens? He gets bored? "

"To be honest, we don't know exactly. If you get in Marcus' good books, you end up getting a ticket out of here. Bad books, you disappear." he paused "I guess either way you disappear. Like I said, we don't hear from them."

They turned down a narrow alley between two pristine Victorian buildings. Here, the perfection started to break down. Elena could see where someone had carved crude handholds into the brick facade, and makeshift rope ladders dangled between buildings. Tiny clotheslines stretched between windows, hung with doll-sized garments that looked hand-sewn and patched.

"In here," Dave said, pushing open a door that had been painted to match Marcus's design but was clearly a later addition. The hinges were rough, made from bent paper clips and scraps of metal.

Inside was a ramshackle tavern that couldn't have been more different from Marcus's museum-quality streets. The tables were constructed from matchboxes and bottle caps, chairs carved from cork and padded with scraps of fabric. A bar ran along one wall, built from stacked dominos with a mirror made from a shard of smartphone screen. The lighting came from tiny LEDs jury-rigged to what looked like a car battery hidden behind the bar.

Three men looked up as they entered. They had the weathered look of people who'd been here longer than Dave--clothes more patched, expressions more guarded. One was maybe sixty, completely bald, nursing something from a thimble. Another looked like he'd once been a gym rat, though his makeshift tank top hung loose now. The third was younger, maybe Elena's age, with nervous energy and fingernails bitten down to nothing.

"Fresh meat," said the older man, without much interest.

"Be cool, Frank," Dave said. "This is Elena. Elena, meet the locals."

The gym rat--his name turned out to be Rex--leaned back in his matchbox chair. "Let me guess. Drinks, charm, 'want to see something interesting,' magic words, boom." He gestured around the shabby tavern. "Welcome to paradise."

Elena pulled Dave's jacket tighter around herself. "How long have you all been here? Also can you, like... get me some more clothes?"

"Frank's been here longest. Five years? Six?" Dave looked to the older man, who grunted confirmation. "Rex about three. Tommy there's our newest member. Well, was."

Dave fished around in the back of the tavern and found a pair of tiny shorts. He tossed them to Elena. She still felt exposed as she slid them on.

Tommy, the nervous one, looked up from whatever he was carving with a makeshift knife. "Eight months. You'll get used to it. Sort of."

"Get used to being in someone's fucking dollhouse?" Elena's voice cracked.

"Language," said Frank mildly.

Dave slid onto a cork stool next to Elena. "The thing is, Elena, you've got to understand how this works. Marcus, he's got rules. Expectations. You play along, life's not so bad. Three meals a day, entertainment, companionship." His hand landed on her knee, casual but proprietary. "You fight it, well. Let's just say the turnover I mentioned isn't always voluntary."

Rex snorted. "Dave here's practically Marcus's little pet. Aren't you, Dave?"

"I'm practical," Dave said, his smile hardening slightly. "Which is why Elena here is going to be just fine. Aren't you, Elena?"

Something cold settled in Elena's stomach as she looked around the tavern again. The way the other men avoided eye contact. Dave's hand stayed on her knee. They all seemed to be waiting for something.

"What exactly are you saying?" she asked quietly.

Dave's smile never wavered. "I'm saying cooperation is everything here, Elena. We just follow the plan."

"Follow the plan?"

"I'll show you." He pointed at a door in the back of the tavern. Great, another secret room. But she didn't feel like she had much choice. "Come on."

Dave put his hand on her shoulder and directed her to the room. The others rose from their seats and followed just behind. She felt a sudden sense of terror, her eyes darting around the tavern. Dave opened the door, his hand on her shoulder increasing its pressure. He was stronger than he looked. The room was dimly lit with LEDs, with a big a wooden table in the middle, a single cork chair, and not much else. She spotted a shelf off to the side, with nothing but a tatty old book.

"What's... what's happening," she said, legs wobbling. Dave and Rex grabbed her arms, and Tommy held on to her waist for good measure. They dragged her onto the table and slammed her down, ripping away Dave's jacket.

"Fuck. Off," she screamed hoarsely, and tried again to buck free, but now Frank and Tommy were trying their best to sit on her legs, and gym bro Rex and Dave forced her arms down easily. Dave started tying her wrist to the table with a bit of rope that must have been attached to it. The fiber bit into her skin as he tightened it. Once secure, he helped Rex with the other side, and moved to her legs. She tried to continue struggling, but they were methodical in keeping her put.

"Sorry Elena," Dave said, panting slightly. "If it's any consolation, it'll start feeling good pretty soon."

"Feeling good? Are you... what are you doing?"

Dave grabbed her boobs and pinched her right nipple lightly "You know, you really do have nice tits. And you're cute. Marcus knows how to choose them." The bottom two ripped off her flimsy shorts easily.

Tommy removed the book from the shelf. He started flipping through the pages. Rex and Frank were still holding her to the table, which on top of the ropes was enough to keep her mostly immobile. Dave was still idly playing with her tits, watching her, that stupid smile stuck on his face.

"Sanguis meus, anima mea, in tenebris te quaero. Veni ad me per somnium, per tactum, per spiritum."

Tommy was chanting, reading from the book. God, what was happening now. These fucking nerds would be the death of her.

"Sanguis meus, anima mea, in tenebris te quaero. Veni ad me per somnium, per tactum, per spiritum. Sanguis meus, anima mea, in tenebris te quaero. Veni ad me per somnium, per tactum, per spiritum."

She started shivering uncontrollably, it felt like her entire body was wriggling, rearranging itself. Suddenly the room went fuzzy and kind of out of focus, almost like she was watching an old movie. The shivering stopped but the fuzzy feeling remained. Tommy continued chanting. She felt Dave's fingers on her nipple again, but this time it was like it was the only thing that was in focus, and it was as if her senses were heightened, every tiny caress felt like the best sex she'd ever had. She moaned, involuntarily. Tommy stopped, smiling and closing the book.

"There's a good girl," Dave said.

"What did you.. do to me," she said, slurring slightly. It was hard to concentrate over the fuzz and the feeling of his hand.

"Marcus gave us a few tricks. But I wouldn't worry. In a few hours you probably won't care about much except cock."

She laughed derisively, trying to inject as much venom as she could into the glare she aimed at Dave. He slid his left hand in between her thighs. As he brushed over her clit she got a huge hit of the "best sex she'd ever had" brain fuzz. She could barely keep her thoughts straight. Abruptly, he slid his fingers inside her and she immediately came, legs convulsing.

"How are you doing?" he said, and slapped her across the face, although it barely registered in the afterglow of her orgasm. She felt almost feral, like she needed something inside her right now.

"Fuck. Off." she managed to spit out.

"Impressive. Normally they're not capable of talking at this point," Dave said, and Tommy nodded. Dave started fingering her again. At least, that's what she thought he was doing. Every time he moved around inside her it sent a shockwave through her head, and it was hard to understand what was happening. She was vaguely aware of the other men no longer holding her down--she wasn't struggling at this point.

She didn't process much, until she found Rex sticking his hard cock in her face.

"Open your mouth" he said, and she obeyed. She started sucking his cock, the fullness of her mouth adding to the relaxing brain fuzz. She might have came three or four times more from Dave fingering her, it was hard to keep track. She felt him remove his fingers, and she shuddered with disappointment. Then his cock went inside her and her brain exploded with what felt like white noise, each thrust a rush of pleasure and fuzz.

Rex groaned and a stream of his cum went into her mouth. She gulped it down dutifully, enjoying the pulsating of his cock. He moved away from her, panting.

"She's well on the way," he said. She was suddenly aware of hotness on her tits--Frank must have been jerking off over her and had got cum all up her chest.

"Frank, we have to actually fuck her!" Rex said.

"I know, I know," Frank mumbled.

"Useless," Rex said to him. Rex grabbed her jaw. "Enjoying being a toy?"

She moaned again, a prolonged, guttural sound, as Dave fucked her rythmically. She felt her mouth shaping up to say "yes" but managed to bite her tongue.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. Enjoying yourself?" Rex slapped her across the face, really hard.

"Y... e... s... Yes I a... m," she whimpered. She felt a rush of normality and twisted her head back and forth, confusion and horror fighting with pleasure, "I... no... not enjoying... I'm n... o... t, I'm..." she said, attempting to put together her thoughts. Rex looked shocked.

"She's still conscious. Tommy, you need to get to work."

"Jesus, this girl," Rex said.

Tommy wiped the cum off her tits and started sucking on them, and biting hard on her nipples. Dave pulled out of her, cock rigid, and looked at the other three. She felt cold and empty without anything inside her, squirming against the rope.

"Let's try fucking her at the same time," he said. He started untying the ropes on her limbs, the others helping. She was free! She tried lifting up her arm, but it was moving impossibly slowly. Dave caught it, and yanked her up off the table into a standing position. She swayed back and forth. Dave pulled out the chair, sat on it, and forced her down onto his dick. The waves of pleasure immediately returned, and she came violently as he slid inside her.

Tommy moved behind her. He slid his finger in her ass. She shivered. She didn't normally like anal but this felt amazing. He grabbed her by the hips, and forced his cock inside her ass. Him and Dave started moving at the same time. The white noise in her brain turned up in volume. She came again and again, almost cumming on every thrust, until the pleasure just melted into one continuous feeling. She couldn't speak or think anymore, she just tried to hold on to the sensation of the two cocks filling her up.

Eventually, an eternity later, the cocks were gone. She was sort of aware of semen dripping down her legs, and blurry figures standing over her. She was slapped, bitten and pinched, again and again, harder and harder. She couldn't react. It was just more white noise.

"Ok. Thank god, she's fixed," Dave said, at a great distance. "Let's get her to Marcus."

Hands picked her up and started carrying her. The pleasure slowly subsided, replaced by a pulsating desire for more sex. She felt cool air on her skin, the glowing light shifting colours. Where was she going?

They dropped her in some kind of central square. She could vaguely feel grass underneath her. She could barely move, but she managed to painstakingly rotate her body into a crawling position, and felt she was making progress, inches at a time. Maybe she could find someone to turn her back into a normal person. She scowled back at her pussy, which was throbbing heavily. She seemed to crave cock inside her on a fundamental level. But she ignored it somehow, pacing forward, and before long she had almost reached the edge of the lawn that made up the square.

Then they came. Blurry figures appeared out of the LED glow and pinned her down, before fucking her. It might have been ten, or a hundred, or a thousand. Before long she only had two brain states: cock inside her or not. Inside felt amazing. Outside was mostly cold and lonely. But the direct aftermath with cum dripping out of her pussy was quite nice. Occasionally they fucked her in the mouth, which was good but not quite as delicious.

This might have gone on for hours, or days, or weeks. Eventually, she could no longer move at all.

But then, finally, through the haze, she saw Marcus' giant hand descending from the sky and picking up her rigid body. He gave her a quick rub up and down, sending a final shockwave of noise through her brain as he brushed past her nipples and clit.

"Perfect," he boomed.

He carried her over the town to a side street with a cafe and a couple of immobile gossiping ladies in fancy skirts. He slid a pale yellow dress over her body, adjusting her arms to get the straps on. He placed her next to the other dolls, forming an exact triangle.

"There, just where I wanted you," he said.

"You look lovely."