Casualties of Pretty Things -- Chapter Ten



Deloris was thirteen when she had her first professional experience. Although she had numerous sexual experiences before, mostly going down on a boy, she was still a virgin. The internet made everything easier; information was everywhere, but she came by her knowledge honestly when she ran away and met real prostitutes who taught her what she wanted to know. No amount of discouragement kept her from diving headfirst into the shallow end of the pool. 

You never forget your first, and she never did forget Damon. She got into his car an amateur.  Five dollars for some show and tell, ten dollars for a blowjob. Because she didn’t want to swallow she managed to convince Damon she was too young and inexperienced, and wouldn’t it be better if he fucked her? She negotiated for thirty and climbed on top. Hurt like hell. When he saw her holding back tears she thought she might have ruined it, that he wouldn’t pay her a damn thing. But Damon liked it. His cock seemed to swell bigger inside her and he fucked harder. She told him not to cum inside her, that she would jerk him off, but Damon called her a bitch and told her he was getting his money’s worth. She wanted it to be over so she played the game, pretended to like it and called him daddy. When it was over she made under what he promised, but she was told a solid fifty was a good start and that you always get paid upfront.  She was thirteen.
Darkness now gave way to a hazy light above her. Deloris stirred to consciousness and tried to make sense of what she was seeing in front of her. The distorted face of a doll stared at her. She blinked, fought off the effects of the drug. When her vision was clear she realized the doll staring blankly at her was a girl. A very real, very dead girl, who looked a lot like Cybil!

Deloris tried to move away from the horror in front of her but was chained to a chair. She struggled, turning to see another Cybil-doll, looking at her with blinking eyes. Alive!

Across from her, Penny moved her mouth, trying to form the words of a warning that came too late. 
Deloris had seen a lot of shit in her years both on and off the streets. She knew first-hand how depraved and monstrous people could be. When she met Cybil and her mother she was told very little about Carl. The fact he raped his daughter was monstrous enough. But this world that was Cybil’s was a surreal tragedy she could not have imagined. She observed her surroundings: the child’s room, the operating room, and decided, “This is some sick shit.”

“I wouldn’t be too quick to judge if I were you,” Carl said from behind. 

He must enjoy sneaking up on people.

Carl moved into her field of view, looking down at her, and said, “You’re in no position.”

Deloris cut through his bullshit act. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her and she wasn’t going to play his game. “Where’s Cybil?”

This one was different. Maybe it was her maturity that set her apart from the girls who begged for their lives. It’s the first thing they do when they regain consciousness, everyone of them. This one has been through the fire. Might be fun to break her. He raised his eyebrows. “My daughter?”

“What is all this?” she asked. “What have you done with Cybil?”

Carl let Deloris squirm momentarily. He brought a hand up to the face of the Cybil-doll and ran his fingers across it like it was porcelain. He thought she was about to demand to be released. Instead she shouted at him. 

“Where’s Cybil?!”

That was surprising, and it gave him a read on her character. She was the self-righteous sort, here to emancipate Cybil from an imagined prison. His daughter was here of her own freewill. This Deloris needed to be set straight. First she had to calm down. 

He said, “I’m ready to converse whenever you are. Or would you rather continue spinning your wheels?”


Self-righteous and charming. 

Carl took a domineering posture. He faced Deloris and crossed his arms. “I’ve got all night.”

Deloris had to play this game after all. But she didn’t have to play it his way. And this wasn’t going to be anything like telling a client what they wanted to hear so they would finish and go away. She forced herself to calm down. She sat up in the chair and let the chains relax around her. 

“Seems you have something on your mind.”

“Thought I’d give you a minute to settle in,” he said. 

Deloris let him enjoy the power he was feeling over her. She recognized he did in fact have a degree of power over her. She wasn’t stupid. But she knew positions of power changed and she couldn’t give him a reason to kill her before she figured out a way to get to Cybil. She hoped Crystal was worried enough out there to come charging in like the special forces vet she was. For the time-being she had to keep this crazy-as-shit, and very dangerous, weirdo entertained.   

Carl pulled out an empty syringe and held it up for Deloris. He said, “Your sneaking around cost me. These cocktails aren’t easy to come by.” He walked over to a Biohazard waste can and dropped the syringe into it. “Normally I would’ve given you a dose strong enough to paralyze you for a few
hours, but I was running low. Time to restock.” He walked back and circled Deloris. “I really need to thank you,”

Deloris said, “Oh?”

“You are Deloris, right? The do-good whore who takes in strays? Yes, you are. Well, thank you, Deloris, for taking care of my wayward wife and daughter while I was elsewhere and otherwise occupied.”

Some bullshit she just couldn’t swallow. She turned her head to look into Carl’s eyes. She said, “Pedophile.”

“What’s that?”

“The state put you away for the rape of your child, Carl. You’re a pedophile. I hope your cellmates were kind to you. Were they, Carl?”

Carl pulled away and sighed. “You’re not wrong.” He took the face of the Cybil-doll into his hands. “I mean, have a look around. I’m as sick as they come. This one? Well this one had a few blemishes, tattoos, like yourself, so she wasn’t good enough to suit my needs.” He pushed away from the Cybil-doll and it fell to the floor with the weight of a sack of dried out potatoes. He rushed over to Penny. When he grabbed her by the face she cried out. “But this one? Well this is Penny, and Penny is perfection. Penny Perfect. Perfect Penny. And she tastes…” He stuck his tongue out as a vile instrument to lick her neck and face. “ a delicacy.”

Deloris saw the truth. “You’re using her for...?” She could not speak the words. 

“That’s alright,” Carl assured her. “You can say it. Go ahead. Say it.”

The words were there in her mouth, but if she spoke them her own sanity was threatened.

“See, I learned something when I was caught.” He was about to preach. “Society, no matter how evolved we are intellectually, will not accept its lower base instincts. Oh, sure. We’re okay with just about anything where food is concerned. Although, I do think that within a hundred years we’ll all be tofu-eating vegetarians. If you can call that eating. But sex on the other hand! No, that’s taboo. It’s too disturbing to think about, much less allow.” He forced Penny up to her feet. He stood behind her and caressed her body. “Did you know that in ancient Rome it was not uncommon for a father to teach his daughter the ways of love?”

Deloris could no longer play the game. “Stop it.”

Carl continued, disregarding Penny’s tearful and silent pleas. Deloris recognized now that something must have been done to her that altered her nature. This poor girl was incapable of resisting. He picked her up and carried her to the bed where he exposed her breasts.

Deloris struggled. “Stop that, you sick fuck!”

Carl jumped up at her exclamation. “Sick fuck? Me?” 

He unzipped his pants and dropped them. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Carl jumped back atop Penny, pulled her panties down beneath the doll dress and spread her legs. He rubbed her pubis as if it excited and stimulated her for penetration. She screamed when he entered her. 

He thrust hard and fast.

As terrible a thought it was Deloris hoped the girl was not a virgin. At the very least it may minimize the girl’s trauma. Or maybe having been surgically altered she may not remember the rape. She was back in that car, that first car with Damon, hoping he was so turned on he would hurry up and nut. Here, all she could do was hate him and fight in her chains. 


Laying there helpless as her captor raped her Penny looked to Deloris with pain-filled eyes. Deloris wept. It was too much to watch. She looked down and away. But nowhere she turned was safe. Nearby was the face of the Cybil-doll, once a living girl. She had to give the victim some sign of hope. She had to understand this pain was temporary. Somehow Deloris would find a way to avenge her. She swallowed her fear and turned back to show Penny her face. She locked eyes with her, and whispered, “Go somewhere else, baby. Pray. Just pray.” 

And she believed Our Lord was there. When she was a little girl she watched a live stream of a terrorist attack. Injured people were running covered in dirt and blood. The scene she remembered the most was of a desperate woman crying, “Where is God?” 

Another victim walked into frame, their faith not hindered by this act of evil, and said, “God is with the dying.” She believed that now.

And she was going to find a way to make sure that evil sick fuck here would never do this again.     

Both victim and witness closed their eyes.


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