Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rey bounced as she stood on the rickety metal staircase in front of the apartment’s side entrance. She looked around, feeling anxious, her breath visible against the cold Detroit air—it was a lot colder this year than last, but of course, that was a broken record that never stopped spinning. She went to knock again, but the second she did, the door pulled open and she saw a tall man in front of her a moment before her hand came to rest on his chest as if she were rapping on the door.

She dropped her hand, cleared her throat, and turned crimson. “Sorry,” she muttered, feeling like an idiot. She waited as he looked down at her simple ankle boots, then her black leggings, her camouflage jacket that was a little too light for the snowy weather, and finally, her certainly red-splotched face bundled in winter wear. “It’s really cold. I–I’m looking for Docto—”

“You’re looking for Kylo Ren?” he asked, louder than her. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes and she nodded. “Your name?”

“R–Rey—Rachel Nieman?” It’s colder than an ice bucket out here. Please, just let me in.

“Good—please, come in,” he said, stepping back and motioning her in. She came with a sigh of relief, and she felt the warm air rush to embrace her.

“Woof,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Amiright? January just—keeps on getting more and more brutal.” She felt like a loser—who says woof?

“Mm,” he hummed. Even the fifty-year-old thinks I’m lame. “Let me take your things, Miss Nieman.”

“Y–you can just call me Rey,” she said as she pulled off her jacket. She watched him watch her take it off and examine the hoodie underneath with a neutral, cold expression. She was pretty sure he was Dr. Ren, but there were only a few shitty, blurry pictures of him online. “A–are you Dr. Ren?”

“I am, yes,” he said. “Dr. Kylo Ren. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Nieman—Rey. It’s—ah—pretty. Unique is nice.” He had complimented it when they’d spoken over Whatsapp, too. Rey gave a tense smile as she shrugged off her hoodie, and she tried not to find the way he eyed her simple, dove-grey t-shirt strange. There wasn’t anything definitively off about it.

“Kylo is a pretty unique name.” A lot more so than mine. I just spell it nicer.

“Yes,” he said simply, taking her jackets, her scarf, her hoodie, and her gloves. “Please, kick off your shoes while I put these away.”

Rey did as she was asked, then awkwardly stood on his hardwood floor, alone in her dingy, mismatched socks.

This place looked… like an apartment that had been converted into a medical spa. What was once a living room was now a lobby—what once had been a dining room had been replaced with a chair like one in a fancy dental office. In the hallway there was a china cabinet full of porcelain dolls—Rey’s brow furrowed even as she got another awkward smile, and she wondered if Baz got her creepy dolls here in addition to her fillers. Dr. Ren returned fairly quickly, and Rey took a moment to appraise him properly. He was tall, and broad, and handsome. She could see the resemblance to the blurry pictures, but really—she’d have never guessed he looked like this.

He motioned towards the fancy chair. “Please,” he said. “Sit. Can I offer you anything to drink? Coffee—tea—soda—juice—water…?”

Rey considered, even as she wondered if… he needed any sort of paperwork, or anything. Then, she told herself that she was being pretty stupid—she knew this was all under the table. Baz had mentioned he’d lost his license for a reason that seemed pretty damn stupid to Rey, too—it hadn’t had anything to do with his job. He had taken care of his aging mother without reporting things to proper channels. According to the internet, his mother seemed to have been moved safe and sound to a retirement home, and he only had good reviews before. He had a good resume—Rey had done her research. With all that in mind, well… Paperwork was probably just a liability. Rey comforted herself with a mental image of Bazine’s eerily perfect face, and she only asked, “What kind of soda do you have?”

“Plenty,” he said. “I like to be accommodating. What’s your poison?”

She gave an awkward chuckle. “Well—do you have anything with zero sugar?”

“I do. Several things, in fact. Would you like Coke, cherry Coke, Dr. Pepper—Dr. Pepper’s strawberries and cream…?”

Rey felt a little overwhelmed by the options and wondered if he ran a soda-business on the side. “Um—the last one sounds good. Thanks.”

“Of course,” he said, disappearing into the kitchen as Rey got comfortable on the exam table. He didn’t leave her alone much longer than he had when taking her coat, and she thanked him when he returned and handed her the soda in a cup with a straw. She took a sip—it was interesting, but she didn’t focus on it. She looked at him as he studied her, then picked up a file seemingly from a table somewhere behind the exam chair. “You’re prettier than most of the girls that come to me.”

Rey didn’t know what to with that statement. She didn’t know what the normal interactions were supposed to sound like, only that she’d seen enough ‘before and after’ photos of fillers to want some—and, of course, Bazine’s immaculate face. Bazine is definitely prettier than I am. By a lot. She told her brain to shut up as she struggled to find something to say. “Um,” she gave an awkward chuckle. “Thanks. I think.”

“Yes,” he said and then cleared his own throat. He opened the file and looked at it intently. “Well… Yes. You wanted… interesting.”

Rey pressed her lips together and tried not to squirm. “Can you do it?”

“Yes,” he said without pause. “Have you ever been under general anesthesia before?”

“Yes.”

“No bad side effects?” Rey watched him open a drawer inside the chair she sat in as he spoke.

“Nope,” she said. I wouldn’t be here if there had been.

“Allergies?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said. Rey watched him set the file down and get to work, seemingly prepping something. “Any… plans today?” he asked with a poor attempt at interest. He used some hand sanitizer, shook his hands for about ten or fifteen seconds, and pulled blue surgical gloves on. She heard the rubbery latex sounds of it almost too loud.

“No,” she murmured. You’re about to cut my face open and shoot shit into it. Why would I plan a rave tonight of all nights?

“Do you have a favorite color?”

Her brow knitted. “I—I mean… I–it’s yellow? Wh–what’s yours?” Rey wondered if he had a wide selection of those as well—if this man just collected everything, from dolls to colors to cans of soda.

He got a crooked smile that might’ve been charming if he wasn’t so odd. “I’m rather boring. I like black. If I had to pick a true color, though… I suppose I’d pick red. Alright now—it’s just about ready.”

Rey leaned over and twisted to see he had been preparing what looked like oxygen tanks—the anesthesia, she assumed. “O–oh,” she said, feeling rushed. She sat properly and sipped on her straw like she was once again the new foster kid about to be left in the restaurant if she didn’t manage to skedaddle. You didn’t, like, prep me or walk me through it… like… at all. “We’re—are we all good to go? Y–you remember what we talked about online?”

“Yes—of course I do. I also printed it out for reference. You wanted lips like Bazine’s—you showed me several pictures of her. Your lips are similar to how hers were, as well—I’m very confident I can give you a similar result. You also wanted… ‘Dramatic’ cheekbones.”

Rey relaxed and nodded, a little annoyed by his apparent and uninvited disapproval of her cheek reference pictures. Baz had been the one to recommend she come here; she had sworn by Dr. Ren. Since Bazine had the best-looking lip fillers Rey had seen in her entire life, she definitely trusted Baz’s personal doctor. Even if he was a strange dickhead. “Okay. Thank you.”

Dr. Ren smiled kindly at her. “Drink up,” he said, and he kept asking her pointless little small-talk questions as she sipped. She didn’t even want the soda, but when she went to hand it to him wordlessly, he held his hand up and insisted. Her jaw worked, but it tasted alright—she was sure it couldn’t end up being that much caffeine, anyway, so she sipped away.

“Do you like your hair? Bazine has been asking me about lengths,” he said.

Rey studied him for a moment, sipping. Feeling a little bit of horror—this guy was, like, fifty—Rey said, “I–I don’t know how I feel about my hair. Are you two, um—close?”

Dr. Ren blinked several times as if he didn’t really comprehend her question, and then, he gave an awkward chuckle. “Well—yes. She’s my daughter.”

Rey turned as red as a beet. “O–oh,” she said, and instantly, she felt a little bit less alarmed at the speed and the informality. “She didn’t mention.”

Dr. Ren gave a soft chuckle. “She was probably thinking about her next manicure,” he murmured, as if he thought she was materialistic, and he was both amused and exasperated by it. “What do you girls talk about?”

Rey stopped sucking her soda down in order to glance at him and say, “Well, mostly, she asks to see my work from Bio, makes me watch Gilmore Girls, and then tells me to go get her Taco Bell,” she joked.

“Aahh. You’re the college roommate, then? Baz talks about you more than her other little girlfriends.”

She was weirdly honored by that, even as she reminded herself that Baz was the last person to rely on as a comfort person—she was selfish, immature, a little mean, and above all, irresponsible. She shouldn’t feel honored that the mean, hot girl who was only nice to Rey for Bazine’s own benefit might mention Rey to her weird dad. Rey finished her drink, and Dr. Ren took the cup with a smile and set it to the side. Rey relaxed as he put a breathing mask on her face, then listened dutifully to his instructions, and soon enough, she felt herself slip away into unconsciousness.

~~~

“Detroit authorities continue to search for missing local Rachel Nieman,” reported the woman on the news. “Miss Nieman was a nineteen-year-old political-science student at University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, and she had already made waves with her internet activism. Some of her friends point to a history of death threats made against Miss Nieman, most recently in response to her participation at the Kalamazoo protest last week…”

“Is she doing good?” Baz forced herself to ask. She glared at the television, but her gaze softened on its own when an image of Rey flashed on the screen. She was looking at the camera—looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.

She was just too pretty, even with a dorky look of disapproval plastered on. Her skin was fair and smooth, and her brown hair fell like thin strands of silk into her heart-shaped face. Her hazel eyes shimmered in whatever light they found themselves in, and her lips were pink and smooth.

“She’s doing much better,” Daddy said, not looking up from his tablet—he was supposedly researching the type of infection she’d gotten somewhere along the line. Baz was getting worried that she’d been in her coma for too long—she didn’t want Rey to be braindead, just… still.

Pretty. Perfect. Frozen. “I want to see her, Daddy,” Baz said. “She’s my favorite—I told you. She’s my best friend. She’s the most important.”

Daddy’s brown-and-green eyes turned to regard her, harsh and tired at the same time. “No, Bazine. You can have your doll when she’s ready, and not a moment before. You already have plenty to keep you company while you wait for your favorite.”

Baz huffed and pouted, glaring at the television and barely resisting the urge to scream at him that he was just being selfish and keeping Rey for himself until he couldn’t anymore. “I want my Rey-baby back,” she snarled at him.

“And you will get her back. You need to learn patience, Bazine—you’re nearly twenty years old, for Christ’s sake.”

Baz’s scowl only deepened. She’d lost Rey when their freshman year of college had come to a close—it wasn’t likely they’d be roommates next year, and it had sent Bazine spiraling. She had had to do something to keep hold of the one friend who’d managed to actually pay attention to her for as long as Baz could remember. “Daddy, I need her! You’re not listening to me!”

Baz felt pretty damn close to one of her ‘tantrums’, as Daddy called them—as if she were still a five-year-old girl.

He looked up to turn a stern, authoritarian look at her. “I hear you loud and clear, Bazine Marie. She is your best friend; she is your favorite; you need her, safe and sound. So, hear me: I am reading right now about the most up-to-date methods of ensuring I can make that happen. I need you to leave me alone so that I can focus. Do you need your medicine?”

Baz sulked and scowled. She shook her head angrily.

“Then stop talking and let me focus.”

Baz stalked off to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her, then shrieked in rage. Her eyes searched the room, scanning over her dolls—she had many. Beanie babies; Webkinz; porcelain dolls; sour-patch kids; Barbie dolls; Bratz dolls; living dolls…

She was so mad. Her eyes found the silhouette of her Tallie doll—she never did like Tallie. Suddenly full of purpose as well as malice, Baz stomped towards the doll where she sat in one of the many rows wrapping around Bazine’s bedroom and keeping her constant company. She backhanded the doll as hard as she could, and Bazine’s eyes didn’t leave the living doll’s—they were the only thing that ever changed. Baz hit her doll once, twice, thrice, and even more, and she paused in between each to watch the emotion swell in Tallie’s fair blue eyes.

It wasn’t enough. Baz grabbed the doll by the ear and she dragged it from its spot among the others and into the middle of the room. “I hate you,” she snarled at the doll, and then, she began to drag her out of the yellow dress she wore as she suddenly remembered what Daddy had learned. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve anything, do you, you ugly little freak?”

It was all Baz had to get the doll out of her dress without ripping it. Tallie’s body fell limp against the bed, and Baz paused only to watch in fascination as she moved like a rag doll. She could see intuitively how Tallie could have caught herself before hitting a post on Bazine’s bed with her little button nose—Tallie could probably see it, too, but she hadn’t had control of her arms in nearly a decade.

Baz was temporarily sated as she watched Tallie lay there, limp as a corpse, bleeding from the nose. Baz held out her hand and snapped in front of those blue eyes—they blinked, and Baz sighed half in relief and half in disappointment. “You got my rug all bloody, you stupid whore. If you’re going to ruin my stuff, you could at least have the decency to be interesting and die.”

She liked to watch the dolls’ eyes when they died. Baz straddled Tallie’s bare torso, and then, she began to bounce angrily, slamming as much of her weight as she could into Tallie’s ribs. Bazine stared into her eyes and watched the tears build slowly—the dolls could cry, but it always took more than it should have, like whatever Daddy did to them dulled their ability to form tears, but didn’t kill it completely. “No one loves you. Not me. Not Daddy. Not your sister. No one.”

Baz got up as she remembered Tallie’s big sister—Kallie. Daddy had managed to take them both from summer camp back in elementary school—Tallie had been Bazine’s best friend, until Bazine’s ex-boyfriend—her very first boyfriend, Beaumont—had asked Tallie to be his girlfriend, and Tallie had said yes. Baz had been inconsolable for months—first, Daddy took Beau, but Baz had always been meaner to her Ken dolls than her Barbies.

Baz didn’t like boys. They were boring and selfish and stupid and mean. Beau hadn’t made it very long.

She didn’t like to think about Beau. Nothing went how she had wanted it to.

Anyway, when that hadn’t worked, Daddy had taken Bazine to summer camp, chaperoning for free just to spend time with her—he didn’t do that anymore. She was ‘too old’, apparently—and he had been for more than five years at that point. At camp, it had been easy for Daddy to figure out which two girls made Bazine the maddest, and by then, he had had some ideas about the procedure already—Dr. Snoke had helped develop it.

Baz pushed her index finger into Tallie’s broken nose and watched the doll’s eyes flicker rapidly and begin to cry. “You’re not a real person anymore,” Baz reminded her, satisfied. “My Daddy fixed you. But you don’t deserve to be fixed.”

Baz stopped when Tallie’s nose looked gross. She searched for Kallie in the sea of dolls—Baz never played with her. She wasn’t sure she’d touched her in years. She found her somewhere in the back, and she was covered in spiderwebs. Bazine went to get her, but she paused and crouched when she noticed the daddy-long-legs that had taken up residence in the doll’s slightly agape mouth. “Ew,” she said, staring. “How does that taste? Like a lack of control? You should have taught your sister to be nice when you had the chance.”

Bazine liked to be at home, with Daddy and her dolls. She reached out slowly, careful to close Kallie’s mouth quickly and firmly before the spider could escape. Familiar with feeding her favorites, Baz gently tipped Kallie’s head back and began to stroke her throat like Daddy had taught her until, eventually, Kallie swallowed against her will.

“Good doll,” she praised. “You’re like a garbage can, too. Or a toilet.”

Bazine dragged her out by the hair, watching the dolls around Kallie tumble like dominoes. “Oh, how are you such a cow? Daddy feeds you too much.”

Bazine shoved the doll forward, watching her tumble on top of her sister, and Baz paused to catch her breath. She even took a moment to rearrange the rest of her dolls before picking Kallie up to see that she had begun to cry, too.

“Aw, your sister is bleeding really bad, isn’t she? Are you scared?” Baz pushed the orange-clad Kallie onto the bed. It was usually only fear or pain that she could get out of them. Baz dragged Tallie onto her back by the hair, pulling her around the room and wondering how much that hurt. She assumed it couldn’t be worse than being dragged around by the arm. Baz straddled Tallie’s chest again, looking down at her face. She tapped the bloodied nose again—it looked worse than she thought. “I’d be scared if she was still like my sister. But now…” Baz shrugged. She kept poking Tallie’s nose—it was causing a lot of damage, like her nose was barely connected, but to Bazine’s eye all she saw was a bloody, cartilage-filled mess. “Does it hurt a lot, or a little?”

She wished she could let them talk sometimes, then turn off their voices. Tallie’s eyes streamed tears faster than they ever had before, and Baz assumed that that meant it hurt a lot.

Baz made a fist, and faster than she could think, she punched Tallie as hard as she could directly in the nose. The ugliest little sound came out of the doll—Bazine chuckled, and then, she squeezed Tallie’s throat in both hands about as hard as she could. Tallie looked dazed as she wheezed on the ground.

Baz got a sick idea. She gave a dark giggle and decided whether or not she wanted to go through with it—and she did. She really did. “You’re ugly now and I don’t want you,” she said. Baz spat on Tallie’s face, then stood. “But I think your sister likes to eat spiders. Why wouldn’t she like snake, too?”

Baz grabbed Kallie by the ankle and dragged her off the bed once more, then took off the orange dress to use it for other dolls. She arranged the sisters on their sides in front of one another, and for a few minutes, she just watched them as they cried silently and stared at one another. It took her a moment to figure out how to do what she wanted, and then, she sat in between the dolls’ bellies.

“Okay,” she said. She guided Kallie’s head to Tallie’s breast, and she took a moment to slip the younger girl’s nipple into the older girl’s mouth. “One… two… three… Bite!”

It turned out that there were a lot of small but extruding body parts for Baz to assist Kallie in snacking upon. When she got bored, she took a moment to stuff her Tallie doll beneath the bed, and then, she lay Kallie on her side on the floor. “There,” she said. “Now you can watch her drift away. I don’t think you could see her before, now that I think about it.”

~~~

“Is she awake yet?” a girl asked in what was almost a mock of a whisper, and it was strangely familiar.

Rey became vaguely aware of her own consciousness, but only barely—her brain processed itself as still asleep, and as such, it stayed calm and relaxed. It listened to the whisper and waited for the plot.

She never did like waking up.

“Are her eyes open, Bazine?” came a strained voice.

“No,” Baz’s voice was cold, harsh, and defensive—it was particularly familiar to Rey. Rey’s eyes opened, but she didn’t really notice—she blinked at the room in front of her, but her mind just wondered why the signal kept going dark. “But the screens changed.”

Rey followed Bazine’s gaze to see a bunch of computer screens. Rey instinctively tried to lean over to see the screen, but her body didn’t respond at all. She felt a yawn threaten her, but her body didn’t cooperate with that, either—instead, the mental itch lingered in her throat uncomfortably, like a sneeze that couldn’t be fully avoided.

There was a gasp, and then—“Daddy! Her eyes! She’s awake.”

Rey saw Dr. Ren turn to look down at Rey, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like a dream. Rey tried to move—to talk—but nothing happened. Her body sat still—she couldn’t feel it, like she was only a face floating in space. She could move her eyes—she could close them or open them or blink. If she tried hard, she felt her brows and nose begin to twitch… but they barely moved at all.

Panic began to rush through her long before she understood. She couldn’t even look down at her body. “Ahh,” Dr. Ren said. Rey watched his hand come up and cup her face—she felt distant tears begin to form in her eyes, and she turned them towards her friend.

Baz surged off of an armchair at just that moment, walking towards Rey with an obsessive sheen in her eye that Rey hadn’t seen since Baz had gotten to meet Anna Wintour in the flesh a few months ago.

Rey poured all of her focus into screaming, terrified that none of her body would move. All that came was a soft huff of air just barely stronger than her breath, and as her heart pounded and thundered, she began to feel so dizzy she was sure she’d just have a heart attack and die.

But it didn’t seem like she did. She just kept feeling more and more panicked. “What’s wrong with her? Why’s her heart like that?” Baz asked, glancing at the machines as they began to beep and alert.

“Well, dear,” Dr. Ren said, his voice as gentle as if he were diffusing a bomb. “I do believe she’s afraid. They all are—don’t hold it against her. You’ll regret it.”

Rey stared at the foggy image blurred by her tears. It was all she could do. At long last, she felt a warm tear run down one cheek, then was mirrored on the other.

Bazine came close, and Rey felt her tenderly wipe the tears away even as more came and kept her vision blurry. “I don’t blame her,” Baz snapped, defensive. After a few moments, she whispered, “It’s okay, Rey-baby. Me and Daddy will take care of you.”

When is it going to wear off? Rey clenched and unclenched her jaw, but they barely felt different from one another. She started focusing on each individual muscle—each thing she knew how to clench—but it didn’t seem like she had any control over anything.

Except, of course, her eyes. Even as she cried harder, her breathing stayed consistent, as if Rey was no longer part of her body, but rather, a thing contained by it.

Her bladder gave out, but it felt strange—wrong—distant. She couldn’t feel the wetness, but she attributed that to the numbness rather than the diaper she couldn’t feel hidden beneath her dress.

Baz reached out, cupping the back of Rey’s head in one hand and clutching her chin in the other. Baz made Rey nod, the movement slow and exaggerated. It was strange and disorienting. “‘Yes, Princess.’”

“Gentle,” Dr. Ren said softly.

What the fuck? What the fuck—what the fuck—what the everloving FUCK?!

Chapter Text

“Daddy,” Baz whined when she was done cheering up her new doll. Rey was now empty-eyed but dry-cheeked after hours of crying that Bazine had struggled not to lose her temper over. Ben looked up from the drawer he’d just tucked the last of the equipment into. “I want to play House right now.”

He chuckled. “As my Princess commands,” he said fondly. “What would you have me do, pet?”

“Put her on the rug. We’ll turn on cartoons—she said her favorite as a little girl was Dora the Explorer. Do we have any of that?”

“Well—I know we have it somewhere in this house, though it was never one of your favorites, so I’m afraid I don’t recall where. I’ll look for it on streaming?” Ben suggested. Carefully, he scooped up his daughter’s new favorite toy and carried her to the rug in the playroom. He set her on her back and arranged her yellow princess dress carefully. He paused to give her a smile, and then, he pulled out his phone and took a picture. He showed Rey how pretty she looked, and he was happy to see her eyes move quickly and easily over the screen.

Some of the dolls had issues with… their intended-to-function nerves, too. He was relieved that Bazine’s favorite seemed fully functional. “We made sure to dress you in your favorite color,” he told her, fluffing the yellow dress that Baz had been all too happy to produce. “And since you didn’t mind either way, I put in some hair extensions—Bazine prefers long hair.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and he sighed softly and stroked some of her side-bangs out of her face. “You’re alright. Do you need your diaper changed—is that it?”

She resumed crying quickly, and the speed of it surprised him. As Bazine hurried into the room, Ben checked Rey’s diaper to find she had urinated a little. “Poor thing needs a diaper change. Would you look for the show while I change her?”

“No,” Baz said, and her tone implied that she was offended to have been asked. He felt his jaw clench. “Change her after. I want your help.”

Ben glanced at her, annoyed. He sighed, then left the doll in order to help his spoiled daughter—his generous treatment of Bazine had rare downsides, but they existed. “You ought to be nicer to your toys.”

“She can’t feel it normally, anyway. And if you get me ready first, I can lay next to her. I want her to be my sister now—okay? My perfect, pretty sister-doll.”

Ben smiled at the bright, childish joy in his daughter’s eyes as he said, “They can feel that part just fine. It’s our favorite part, isn’t it?”

He helped her change out of her adult clothes and into a diaper of her own, and then, she eagerly lay next to Rey and cozied into her rug. “Okay,” she whispered softly. “You can change her now.” Ben changed Rey’s soiled diaper, then put her in a dry one—then, he put Baz into a clean diaper as well, and her hazel-gold eyes shimmered playfully as he did. He smiled at her sweet face.

He was very lucky to have a daughter that simply refused to get older. He’d get to have her and spoil her forever. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, and then, he kissed the forehead of her new sister-doll. “Now,” he said softly. “Bazzie, dear—do you want clothes first, or cartoons first?”

“Dora,” Baz gushed, regressing with ease. Her eyes told on her—suddenly, she was six years old again. Ben winked and ruffled her hair, and then, he looked up how he could put on Dora for his daughters.

It had a nice ring to it—plural. After a moment, he grabbed the remote, and in no time at all they were watching Dora learn how to become a real princess. “Now,” he said softly. “What color, Baz?”

“Orange,” she whispered—it surprised him. He turned to look at her. “Kallie’s dress.”

He couldn’t remember which one was Kallie. He got up and went to the closet—it wasn’t as if Baz particularly liked orange. He came back with the two orange dresses he could find, and she pointed; soon enough, he had her properly dressed, and he grabbed two living doll stands in Bazine’s preferred style, and he helped the girls sit up and see the television.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Baz cooed. He ruffled her dark hair, then kissed the crown of her head.

“You’re so welcome, Bazine.”

There was a pause, and then—“Daddy, Rey wants a kiss, too. You’re not allowed to make her jealous.”

Ben chuckled at the rule and the obvious tone of Bazine’s voice—he was glad his daughter was learning to share. She’d always had a… selfish streak. He ruffled Rey’s hair, too, and then he kissed the top of her head. “I’m so sorry, Rey. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Baz put on a light British accent that she had said Rey got from her grandfather. “‘I don’t forgive you, Daddy. I’m so scared and alone and you should make me feel nice.’”

Ben sighed—Bazine had the attention span of a squirrel. He sat between them, then gently pulled them both close. Baz pretended to be as limp as her sister. “I thought you wanted to watch her movie with her, Baz?”

“I didn’t say anything,” Baz insisted. Ben eyed her—this game was mostly new, and the strictness of the roleplay was. He sighed, then turned to look at Rey.

“Rey… Wouldn’t you like to watch your movie?”

“‘I’ve seen it a million times, Daddy,’” Baz answered for Rey in the accent. “‘But I’ve been alone forever. I’m a virgin, Daddy—isn’t it so sad? I need to be worshipped. I need to be loved. Please, play with me, Daddy. I’m such a needy little doll.’”

Rey began to cry again a half-second before she squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh—” he said softly. I don’t play with little girls who are crying. You ought to know that, Bazine—Ben didn’t say that, though. It was better not to bring those moments up to her; she got quiet, sad, sullen. “You don’t need to cry, Rey. I’ve got you. We’ll play with you—me and Bazzie.” Ben pulled them both in for a hug, and Baz wrapped her arms around them both and clung on with a happy coo. “We’re a family.”

“Mhm,” Baz cooed, and Ben watched her take Rey’s earlobe in her mouth and nibble on it. Ben felt himself twitch in his pants as Bazine’s tongue dipped into Rey’s ear and licked over it hungrily. “We’re going to feel so good all day, every single day. I told you I’d get you a rich man—I had the perfect one in mind already.”

It was a funny conversation to overhear, and for a moment, he forgot his resolve. He watched as Bazine’s lips trailed over Rey’s cheek, then down her throat. “‘Princess Baz, please—I want to get fucked now. Please, make Daddy fuck us. I want to get fucked with you.’”

“Oh—I know, Sissy,” Baz cooed in her regular voice. Ben watched as Baz ripped Rey’s dress clean in half—he blinked, and he knew at once that Baz must have prepped the seam for her toothpick-thin arms to have ripped it so cleanly. Baz got a wide, wild grin as she kept ripping, tearing it off like she was opening Christmas presents. “Don’t worry. I’m going to fuck you every day. I’ll be your sex toy, and you can be my dolly, and you won’t ever have to leave me.” The sadness and yearning in her voice burned his chest.

Rey was still crying, but for once, Baz didn’t react one way or another. As the characters began to sing and chant about their determination to save Sleeping Boots, Bazine kissed Rey hungrily in the mouth. Ben licked his lips and watched Bazine’s hand come up and manually part Rey’s lips.

He liked to watch her with her dolls.

“Daddy’s putting his foot down,” Ben said as he heard a strange noise come out of Rey’s throat. He grabbed Bazine quickly and pulled—she scrambled to keep hold of Rey, but Ben had been manhandling Bazine since she was born. He pulled the small woman easily into his lap and he held her tightly as she squirmed and fought and then screamed. He held her limbs still and closed his fists around her, and he reminded her softly that he was her father and she needed to listen to him.

“The sooner you stop,” he said as she spun and jerked her body around, trying to loosen his grip on her. “The sooner you get what you want.”

Baz let one last shriek before collapsing into his arms and scowling at Dora on the screen as she snuck into a dragon’s lair to get a red ring. “You’re mean, Daddy,” Bazine accused, her voice silken and sour at once.

He kissed her head. He looked over to see that Rey had stopped crying—she was looking over at Baz with an angry, resentful despair in her pretty eyes—eyes so much like Bazine’s, like his own. Green at the edges and brown in the middle. Ben went to push Rey’s hair out of her face again, but Baz took the opportunity to start another tantrum, and so he sighed and bound her tightly to her doll stand. Ben reached into the basket sitting on the short shelf beneath the coffee table, and he wrestled the oversized pacifier into Bazine’s mouth and then buckled the small straps. Soon, she was sitting there, huffing and puffing and screaming into her pacifier uselessly. Ben ignored her, just gently clapping along with Dora as she sang a repetitive song, trying to get Baz to play the game she had started. It had even been her idea.

“Boingey-boingey-boingey-bing, let’s teach these rocks to sing!”

“Daddy, I’m horny,” Baz whined, voice muffled around the pacifier gag.

“When you start something, you need to finish it. Watch your movie with your sister, and when we’re done, you can tell me what you’d like to do next. You know there are rules—you need to set a good example for Rey. Aren’t you her big sister, Baz?”

Bazine glared at Ben, then turned her attention back to the Dora TV-special. Ben pulled the brush out from the basket beneath the coffee table and then began to gently brush her long, dark hair.

“I’ve frozen the río. I have to keep it frio,” sang the witch on television.

When Ben was done, he motioned with the brush towards Rey, and Bazine glared at him for a moment before nodding her permission. Ben moved to sit behind Rey, and then, he began to brush her hair, too.

After turning winter into spring, Dora only had one more task to become a true princess—that was around the time Baz started squirming into the rope. Ben carefully inched the girls together until they were side by side, and then he got up to get some of the stabilizer from the nearby drawer. He came back and shifted Baz a little, then moved Rey’s limp body and wrapped it sweetly around Bazine’s. He got clean and put on some gloves. He grabbed the syringe and filled it—tapped the air out—and then got to posing Rey limb-by-limb. He kept her cheek on Bazine’s breast like a pillow, and he wrapped her limbs around Bazine. Ben wouldn’t get enough of the sight of them together—of Baz’s sleek, sexy body and Rey’s lithe, pear-shaped body. His gloved hand slipped under Rey’s diaper and smoothed over her plump ass as Dora stood beside the King and Queen of Fairytale land, ready for her fourth and final test—Dora had to bring them the moon.

“Tough crowd,” Ben muttered—he didn’t know why that seemed uniquely hard, particularly in a kid’s show where she’d already taught rocks to sing and supernaturally changed the weather. His other hand moved to rub Bazine’s neck and shoulder—he knew better than to tease her when she was worked up.

She’d be liable to make her dolls eat each other again. Ben shoved the memory quickly from his head—the less he thought about his daughter’s tantrums, the happier he was. Eventually, Dora’s TV special ended with Boots happily awake, and Ben went into Bazine’s room just to make sure she had a more expendable doll than Rey to play with, just in case she was angry.

There was a naked one crying on the floor, and he took that to mean that Bazine had little to no interest in her—she’d never been quite so careless with one before. It was the same one he’d found with a blood-soaked mouth that he’d demanded an explanation for—Baz hadn’t cleaned her up even when he’d told her to. He scooped her up and carried the doll into the living room, and he set her gently on the rug. Bazine glared at the doll, then at Ben, as if this doll’s mere presence was an affront.

“You’re angry,” he reminded her. “You told me Rey is your sister. That means you’re not allowed to hurt her. If you have a tantrum, I figured you’d want one of the dolls you care so little about that you leave them on the floor.”

Ben took out Bazine’s pacifier as Dora ended, and immediately she said, “I put her right where I wanted her,” Baz said with a cruel lilt to her voice.

“Well, then—when you’re done playing nicely with your sister-doll, you can put this one back where you want her, then. They don’t last long on the floor—you know the bugs get to them like candy.”

Especially if they had the stabilizer in their system.

“Good,” Baz said. “I’m bored of Kallie. That’s why I took her pretty dress off first. So it wouldn’t get dirty.”

Kallie’s eyes slowly filled with tears. Ben sighed and got up, trying to stay out of Bazine’s view as he readied another syringe—one he never liked showing Bazine.

He knew the dolls could still feel things happening to them—including pain. Sometimes… Well, sometimes, it just seemed kinder to put a stop to that. Bazine was cuddling her sister-doll and chatting with ‘Rey’ as Ben crouched beside Kallie, using his body like a visual shield. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “This should keep it from hurting.” He poked the needle carefully into the back of her neck—into her spine—and injected the paralysis agent. There was a chance it would only be partially effective, but he couldn’t do his usual ‘blink twice’ method. It didn’t seem like Kallie could move her eyes to begin with—she blinked at regular intervals no matter what, which was a perk he’d added to some of the broken ones. Especially at the beginning, he’d had issues getting it right—some of them could move their faces too much, while some others couldn’t even see.

Baz had been disturbingly fond of the latter ones, and that had been why he’d developed this paralysis agent in the first place. Puberty had made her… sadistic.

Ben took the empty syringe away and put it into one of the many sharps containers around their house. He threw his gloves away, and then, he walked back to see Bazine struggling against her ropes with whimpers and whines. She snapped at him—still muffled by her paci—to let her go, already. He paused and smiled at her, putting his hands on her lip as he appreciated her.

He was glad she was adopted. He felt his dick twitch in his pants, and he reached down and stroked it soothingly. “You’re so cute when you’re helpless. You’re going to use your manners, or I’m going to savor you for a little while, darling.”

Bazine scowled at her father’s cock, but she was fixated on it. She was a sexual creature. “Let me up. Please. Daddy.”

Leh eh uh. He chuckled, then sat down on the couch behind her back. “I know you can be so much sweeter than that.”

It took a little while, but eventually, Baz was whining and crying. As per usual, her voice got pathetic before it softened, but eventually, she was pleading sweetly to let her up. “I don’t wanna be a doll, too,” Baz said.

He laughed at that. “Don’t tempt me,” he teased as he moved forward and untied her, starting with her pretty pacifier. “You’d make such a pretty, poseable doll.”

“That’s not funny,” Baz said quickly.

“You think it’s awfully funny when it’s other girls, Bazine,” he reminded her. He gave her a kiss on her chiseled-and-filled cheek right before he watched her pull her arms free and flex them.

“They’re not real people—just me and Rey,” Baz said. Ben sighed.

She’d been saying that her dolls weren’t “real” from the beginning. It explained the treatment, at least—Baz wasn’t often overly kind, but she didn’t torture “real” people. Ben was just happy that there was finally an exception in her psyche—maybe that would help her see the rest as real, too. “If you hurt Rey, you’re grounded. If you kill Rey—you’re in a lot of trouble, Bazine. You’d be a doll and worse. We don’t hurt our family—do you understand?” Ben asked before undoing her legs.

Baz nodded eagerly. “Rey is friend. Not food,” she said in a voice that said she found herself as cute as Ben did. He smiled and bopped her nose lightly before finally pulling away the last of the rope.

“That’s right. Now—what do my girls want for dinner?”

Baz looked down at Rey, who was wrapped around her body and as stiff as porcelain, just as she would be for at least five more minutes. Baz stroked through Rey’s hair. “‘Daddy, I want your big, fat cock for dinner.’”

Ben withheld a sigh—she was still adjusting, and he could still imagine the tears in her eyes. He didn’t like it when the dolls cried as he slept with them. “Daddy’s cock is reserved for after dinner, I regret to inform you. I’m hungry. What food do you girls want to eat?”

Baz tapped lightly on Rey’s eyeball—her eyelid twitched, but the stabilizer made it too weak to close under Bazine’s finger. “Careful,” he prompted softly, watching to make sure she was only being an annoying little scientist. “She’s littler than you. You don’t want to hurt your sister, do you?”

Baz grinned manically at the idea of Rey being ‘littler’. Bazine reluctantly moved her finger and Rey’s watery eye immediately shut. “No. I just wanna play. They’re such pretty eyes, aren’t they?”

He pointed at Kallie. “I brought you a punching bag, Bazine. Her eyes are also pretty. I mean it—be nice to your sister.”

“But I’m stuck. No punching possible,” Baz wiggled, and then, Ben sighed and slowly extricated his daughter from Rey’s frozen arms. Bazine crawled over and sat on Kallie’s chest as Ben tried to get Rey comfortable despite her awkward position.

He glanced briefly at Baz to see her poking at Kallie’s eyes in a much more… invasive manner, and so, he hurried out of the kitchen and decided that they clearly didn’t care what was for dinner.

Daughters. They were nearly impossible to herd around every day—he needed to get an Anatolian Shepherd, or something. He perused the kitchen, finding little interest in most of what he saw. Eventually, though, he had added ingredient after ingredient to the counter until there was enough there for him to get an idea about what to cook.

Bazine liked lamb. There was still some in the storage freezer, and he ought to use it before it was lost to frostbite. It seemed like a perfectly nice idea to celebrate Rey’s addition to their family unit.

Maybe, he’d look for a mommy. Rey was cute, and he had thought about even as he’d already been (metaphorically) elbow deep in her brain matter… but she was too young for him to marry. She really ought to be his daughter, and of course, she had been Bazine’s favorite before his. But Baz was already a handful, and though Rey couldn’t make much mischief, her presence felt like it… complicated things. Ben carried the last of the lamb into the house, then went back into the playroom and froze at what he saw.

He just… looked away from the bloody scene that Baz had made and felt happy he’d paralyzed Kallie. Rey was crying, immobile—she had gone limp and collapsed into the pillows he’d stuffed in between her arms, but she was unharmed by Bazine’s game. Quietly, Ben picked up Rey. “You’re frightening me,” he told Bazine as she giggled, sounding a little demented. He was careful not to look. “Rey is going to help me cook.”

“Good,” Baz said. “I think she’d be mad at me if she saw what I wanna do next.”

Ben walked away and he didn’t ask or wonder. He set Rey in Bazine’s adult-size high chair in the kitchen, and then, he wiped the tears streaming rapidly down her cheeks. “I know. She’s got quite the creative imagination, doesn’t she? But you’ll be safe, dear. I believe I told you when you came to the office—Bazine never shuts up about you. She’s been in love with you since before Halloween. She won’t hurt you. She takes care of her favorite dolls.”

Rey’s eyes fluttered and she seemed to be trying not to look at him. He pulled away with a sigh, and then, he grabbed a tomato in one hand and a clove of garlic in the other. He held them up to represent the two options: “Do you want tomato sauce with your pasta,” he said, shaking the tomato lightly. “Or alfredo sauce? Use your eyes, sweetheart—show me. Choose.”

Rey gave him a look he couldn’t make sense of, but eventually—as fresh tears fell ever faster—her eyes flickered towards the garlic. He set them down, patted her head, and said, “Good girl! Thank you very much. Do you want a chocolate?” Ben didn’t pretend to wait for a response—instead, he grabbed the chocolate off the top of the fridge, where Baz couldn’t see it, and he gently opened up Rey’s mouth and slipped the chocolate in. He helped her chew carefully, then closed her mouth for her. “It’ll melt…”

After a few moments, Ben tipped her head back and stroked her throat until her body swallowed. He fixed her head, then pressed a kiss into her sweetened lips, a bit of the chocolate melted into the spit gathered at the corner of her mouth. Ben licked it up and hummed his appreciation. “You’re so yummy,” he told her. He licked up a salty stream of tears, and then, he started making the garlic alfredo sauce from scratch. “Gourmet Rey.”

Bazine came in and asked for a bath, and as Ben left Rey in the high chair to carry his older daughter to the tub, he got back to thinking about how nice a mommy would be right about now. Bazine wanted Rey to join her, but Ben was nervous to leave them alone, so he told her she’d have to earn joint baths, and though she pouted, it seemed like a challenge she liked. After she was clean and dry and dressed, Ben left her and hurried back to finish dinner.

Baz began to set the kitchen table, much to Ben’s surprise, and he smiled with pride. “Are you excited?”

“Yes!” she said. “Can you make us a cake, Daddy? Can you put something funny in it?”

Bazine was the strangest girl he’d ever met. He glanced at her, trying to figure out if the family rules meant he ought to refrain from feeding Rey… something ‘funny’. She would probably be a little bit less into a semen reduction as a topping for french fries, or the strange doll dishes Bazine sometimes urged him to make.

“I… don’t imagine Rey has the same tastes as you—”

“Yes, she does,” Baz said, angry. “She’s my sister. We like all the same stuff. I like Dora and she likes jokes.”

Ben looked over at Rey to see she wasn’t crying, just staring at the fridge. “Rey… How are you feeling?” Ben asked. Some of them gave more definitive clues than others.

Rey turned and Ben swore she was scowling—her brow twitched, just a little, eyes setting into a look of visceral anger. Ben sighed. “Okay, okay,” he said. “You’re sisters. You were best friends. I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“We are best friends!” Baz snapped.

“You’re best friends,” Ben validated, his voice strained. “Figure out what sort of ‘funny’ you want your cake to be, Bazine, and I’ll make it. I always do.”

“Put your cum in the frosting,” she said eagerly. “And I want something in the cake, too! Should it be dry, or wet?”

“I’ll work with the ingredient you give me, Baz,” Ben said.

“But I want it to taste good! Otherwise, I’d put the old sisters in there.”

“The who-now?”

“Tallie and Kallie,” Baz said, annoyed at him for forgetting. “From elementary school. Remember?”

Ben’s jaw set at the mention of Tallie. “I remember Tallie. Kallie’s in the living room. Are they sisters?” The rhyming names thing had always been tacky to Ben.

“Yes,” Baz said. “That’s the only reason I wanted Kallie—I wanted sisters. But I never liked Tallie—not even before.”

That was a lie—for several years, Bazine and Tallissan had been very close. He didn’t bother to argue with his daughter. “We could get some of their blood,” he suggested.

“No, I don’t want their blood. I don’t like them. I want it to be good—it has to come from us. I don’t wanna bleed, and I don’t want Rey to bleed. Do you think if you use our pee it can still taste good?”

Ben was careful not to make a face at his daughter. “Bazine… I don’t know. I’ve never tried that before. I think we both know you’re the urine connoisseur of the family.”

“Daddy—ugh! I need you to try it so I know for important stuff like this,” Baz said.

He gave her a smile. “Alright, dear. I’m proud of you for managing your frustration. You’re using your words so well.”

Baz dragged her high chair from the dining room so she and Rey could sit side by side. “Can you make us a double chair?”

“Yes,” he said after a moment as he flipped the lambchops. “Absolutely, sweet girl.”

“I don’t think I like her extensions. I can tell they’re not her hair—her real hair is so perfect, just like all of her. Can you take them out tonight?”

“Yes, dear,” Ben said.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re so welcome.”

“‘Daddy, will you rape me in the arse tonight?’” Bazine suddenly asked ‘for’ Rey.

Ben froze and struggled to keep his frustration in check. He opened his eyes to make sure the food ended up perfect. “Bazine—that’s a very harsh word for your sister-doll to use, don’t you think?”

“She likes rape—she reads stories about it all the time. I bet she’s happy we took her. I bet she’s so wet right now. She’s so excited to get raped a-all the time.”

Ben glanced over to see a bend in Rey’s brow that seemed more dejected than horny, and he looked away. “I’ve nearly gotten the voicebox procedure perfected,” he said. “When I’m confident I won’t make a mistake, I’ll do it on Rey, and you’ll be able to turn her voice on and off—and then we’ll know for sure. I’m not going to hurt Rey, Bazine, and neither are you.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Baz grumbled. “But it’s not rape if she says ‘yes’. She’s not reading roleplays—she’s reading about rape. She wants to be raped.”

Ben told his daughter to be quiet or she was grounded.

“‘That’s okay, Sissy. Daddy’s boring and stuffy and judgey and mean. You can rape me instead.’”

Ben slapped Baz across the mouth—she got angry if he ever reminded her that she was the ventriloquist, so it felt like a good compromise. Baz turned red and pouted to herself, whimpering as Ben got back to the food, feeling angry. “Next time either of you speak without permission,” he said. “Bazine is grounded for a week.”

Baz cried at that, but smartly, she didn’t argue. When it was done, Ben dispersed the food across plates and began cutting up Bazine’s first. He set it in front of her, then moved on to Rey’s food, and he set it in front of her. Baz was blowing vigorously on her plate—she turned and blew on Rey’s, too, as soon as it was properly cut.

“Sweet girl—good job,” Ben praised her. Baz got a small, shy smile—she always got a bit softer after he hit her, and he’d never say it out loud, but it made it hard not to hit her more.

Ben cut up his plate, then pushed it out of the way. “Who wants a bite first—big sister, or little sister?”

Baz grinned and moved her hands, opening Rey’s mouth and then slipping her fingers in lightly and gently tugging it open, revealing a bit more of Rey’s gums and teeth without seeming to hurt her. “Little sisters eat first.”

Ben smiled and picked up a piece of lamb, then tapped the meat against his lips to ensure it was cool enough. When it was, he guided the fork into Rey’s mouth and Baz helped her gently pull the meat from the prongs with a surprising level of smoothness. “Good girls,” he praised as Bazine carefully helped Rey chew—she wasn’t very good at it, though, and meat was one of the hardest things for them to help the dolls with. Ben reached over to help, and then, he held Rey’s head as Bazine helped her swallow. “Should I blend it all up?”

Baz giggled. “I think that would make it taste bad,” she said. “I have a better idea. Let’s be birdies, Rey!”

Ben watched as Baz picked up a piece of lamb and chewed it, eyes bright and childish and determined. Ben looked to see Rey staring at Baz, reluctant. Baz leaned over and kissed her sister, and Ben watched as she pushed the chewed up lamb into Rey’s mouth, juices and all.

Rey’s eyes squeezed shut and she looked visibly grossed out. Baz smiled at her all the same and Ben looked on, disturbed, as Baz closed and covered Rey’s mouth. “Isn’t that yummy? It’s extra sweet now that it’s got my sugar.”

Ben gave a soft chuckle. “I think… she preferred chewing,” he said softly.

Baz rolled her eyes, then scooped up some of the noodles and put them in Rey’s mouth—

“That’s too much,” Ben chastised, moving closer. Baz quickly helped Rey start chewing.

“She has a big mouth. She looks so sexy when she’s full. I thought you said she wanted to chew?” Baz argued. Dinner took an unusually long time to get through.

Chapter Text

Bazine was jumping up and down with joy, buzzing and making strange noises—she knew that right now she was acting like a total spaz, but she couldn’t care less than she did at that moment.

Rey had come home to her. For good. Forever! No more misunderstandings. No more shy rejection—just sisterly bonding. Just love. If Rey didn’t want to be Bazine’s girlfriend… Well, she didn’t have to be. She could be her sister-doll instead. Baz turned back to see how cute Rey looked in Daddy’s big, strong arms, and she keened again. “Oh, I’m so excited, Rey-baby! Another sleepover. I missed them so much—and this time, we’re going to share a bed!”

“‘I’m so excited, too! We’re going to play dress up, and kiss, and paint nails, and do makeup…’”

“I’m so wet for you,” Baz said, and she hurried forward to make sure everything was perfect. She hurried forward and got down on her knees, peeking down at Tallie. Baz had been making sure to feed her and give her water—there she was, and Tallie’s big blue doll eyes came to look at Baz in fear. Baz grinned—she didn’t have time to look at her much, so she stood up and hoped that Daddy still wouldn’t notice she was down there.

Sometimes, he did something to them—she could tell. Kallie’s eyes had always been frozen, but they used to still quiver when she was in pain. But Kallie hadn’t felt anything Baz did to her in the playroom that last day, and it had taken half the fun out.

It always did when Daddy made the pain stop. They got so boring.

Daddy set Rey on her back on the bed and Baz started looking through her television for The Powerpuff Girls—it was the perfect show. The old one—the one Baz had watched—the one Rey must have, too.

“Stupid me—I totally forgot to ask you if you’re Blossom or Bubbles,” Baz said as Daddy sat Rey up with a stand and sat behind her. He began to take out Rey’s hair extensions carefully. “I’m Buttercup. Obviously. Daddy—when do you think the voicebox surgery will be ready?”

Baz was nervous about it. She… she didn’t think Rey was going to be very happy with her for turning her into a doll… But she already missed talking to her.

“I couldn’t guess,” he said gently. “But I’m hoping only a year or two—I’ve made significant progress already. We’ll need a new test doll. Do you have any volunteers?”

“Take one of those ones,” Baz said, waving towards the dusty corner near where Kallie had been.

“If you don’t like them,” Daddy said, his voice soft but stern. Baz scowled at the television screen. “You shouldn’t ask me to make them into dolls.”

“Most of those ones are broken, and the rest, I took so I could stick them there and ignore them on purpose,” Baz said matter-of-factly. “I wasn’t that mad at Kallie for being a bad sister, but her eyes were always broken—most of the older ones don’t work right. Take one of them. They’re probably screaming to die, anyway. Do you change their diapers? I don’t. I assume you feed them or they’d be ugly by now.”

“They wouldn’t be ‘ugly’, Bazine—they’d be dead. Do you think it would smell this clean in here if no one changed their diapers? Of course, I change their diapers—of course, I feed the ones you neglect. I know quite well which ones you take care of, Bazine. And it’s not all of the dolls that work properly—it’s barely half of them.”

“Well,” Baz said, feeling waspish. The kind of wasp that burrowed into beetles and let their babies eat them. Her regression was threatened; she was starting to feel older again. She glared hatefully at the TV. “The other half were bitches and whores like Tallie and I wanted them to steep in their own shit, so.”

Ben sighed. “I don’t know how I let you get so mean,” he lamented. Baz rolled her eyes.

“Take one of the old ones. The ones with funny botox.”

Daddy looked offended, but Baz didn’t care.

“‘Daddy, are you almost done?’” Rey would say, if Daddy had given her a voicebox yet.

“Almost, princess,” Daddy said, his voice soft and sad.

“‘Will you let me warm your cock while you finish my hair, please, Daddy? Please, Daddy, I want to know what a penis feels like…’”

Ben sighed. Baz turned as she watched him pull Rey back into his arms, and Baz instantly fell back into her proper self as she saw Daddy cradle Rey like a babydoll.

Rey stared at him, wide-eyed and nervous. Baz cooed as Rey’s cheeks began to color, and it spread over her face, her ears, her throat, her bosom… Bazine stroked a hand over Rey’s tummy, bare now save for the diaper that stopped at her navel. “‘I–I want to feel good, Daddy… I want to make you feel good…’” Daddy was horny—it was written all over his face how much he wanted to do what Baz had suggested. What Rey would have suggested.

Daddy’s face was red, too, and his eyes were flooded with need. Baz watched his thick fingers come up and stroke Rey’s cheek. “I can make you feel good, Rey,” he whispered, voice breaking. Baz felt her pussy clench on nothing as goosebumps spread over her flesh.

Rey’s eyes rolled back into her head before they closed, and for a moment, Baz could hear a very familiar sentiment in Rey’s own voice—You’re going to do whatever you want to do. I have learned by now that I cannot stop you, because you’re batshit insane.

Baz giggled and kissed Rey’s forehead and missed her pretty voice. Bazine had gotten good at ventriloquism, but her impersonation of Rey’s beautiful, perfect, subtle accent left much to be desired. She pulled Rey close and held her as Daddy took his pants off, then sat back down and arranged Rey’s wire doll stand in his lap. Baz was eager to hold Rey steady with Daddy’s help, and soon enough, Rey’s diaper was pushed to the side and Daddy’s hard cock was lined up with Rey’s tight, virgin hole.

Baz hoped she did bleed. Just a little. She hoped it pinched—no more than it had pinched Baz. Ben was big. It had thrilled her as much as it had scared her back when she was a little teenage virgin.

“Bombs away?” Baz asked, eager. She looked into Rey’s eyes to see them wide and buggy, pointed down at the eleven-inch monster Daddy held in his equally oversized hands. Baz bit her own lip as Rey’s brows furrowed and her pretty hazel eyes turned to regard the sky instead, as if there was a God who would save her rather than savor the show.

She was just too beautiful. Bazine was infatuated—obsessed.

Daddy gave a strained chuckle. “Bombs away.”

Baz let go and Rey fell down. Daddy groaned and Baz cooed softly as Rey’s eyes fluttered. She cried faster than any doll ever had, and there was even a soft, raspy squeak that came from her throat. Baz gave a delighted gasp and then molded her front flush against Rey’s, their nipples pressing together. Baz reached down and she rubbed her fingers into the base of Daddy’s cock and the warm, wet flesh of Rey’s cunt.

“Oh, my Rey-baby’s not a virgin anymore,” Baz said, moving her hips and imagining the way Daddy felt inside of her.

“This isn’t cockwarming,” Daddy said, voice strained, but Baz knew it was too late. She grabbed Rey’s hips and began to move up and down with them.

“‘You’re cock’s just so big and perfect,’” Baz gasped, and she really did sound like Rey for a moment. Daddy made a throaty song as Bazine’s empty body ached to be filled.

For once, she liked the need, the sting of neglected desire. Baz suckled a hickey into the crook of Rey’s shoulder and then started moving Rey’s hips only with her own. Baz slipped two fingers into the tight squeeze of Rey’s cunt and Daddy cursed and told her not to. Baz withdrew her fingers and then held up her hand for her and Rey to see—Baz cooed, tasting one of the two bloody digits and letting Rey taste the other before dropping her hand back down to Rey’s clit. “You’re so sexy, Rey-baby. I love you so much. I’m so happy you came home to us. I can’t wait to hear your pretty voice again.” Just the thought of it had her quick pulse speed up even more with need and fear. They always felt so good braided together like that… warm and rich and deep and familiar, like Daddy’s booming baritone.

Rey let out the ghost of a rasp. She kept trying to talk, but it didn’t seem to work very often, and Baz was deeply fascinated. She reached up and gently tickled Rey’s throat for a while and whispered soft encouragement, but after a while, her voice gave out.

Baz hurried to the nightstand and told Daddy to keep making her feel good—“I’m getting a few toys.”

Daddy sighed, but he caught Rey before she could fall and he shifted their bodies as he fucked into her, wrapping his arm around to generously toy with her big, fat clitoris. “You need to give me more of a warning next time,” he said.

She didn’t bother telling him that that was unlikely—if he was as smart as she believed him to be, he already knew it well. She pulled on her strap and her smallest penis, then pulled on gloves and added some numbing lube—she mentioned she was using it, and Daddy sighed, then stopped to put on a condom.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Baz grinned and spun, watching the silicone bounce. “It’s the starting size! I need her, Daddy—turn her around so I can get her ass. We’re going to make her come so much—it’s okay. Really. I’m going to kiss her there so much. She’s my favorite. My absolute favorite, forever and ever. I love her.

“I’m in love with her,” Baz insisted. And the crazy bitch meant it.

Ben seemed to be convinced particularly slowly, but convinced nonetheless. He sighed and carefully turned her around, then went back to what he was doing, holding her tightly in his arms and fucking up into her gently. Now that he’d worked her open, he could fit all the way inside her—Baz stopped for a moment and appreciated, her skin on fire with lust. “I love her so much,” she whispered zealously.

“Come on, baby,” Daddy said. “Family time. Come join us.”

Baz climbed on the bed as Ben quickly spat on his hand, then rubbed it into Rey’s ass and slipped a finger in. The dolls were limp and loose without the stabilizer—his big finger slipped right in, and Baz had never been more eager. She came closer on her knees, and she keened as Daddy stilled his hips and used his hands to part Rey’s little virgin asshole.

“Oh—who’s my little anal whore, baby?” Baz purred right before she thrust all the way into her little asshole. She giggled hungrily and ground her hips into Rey’s plump ass—there wasn’t any resistance. “That’s right, slut. You’re my little sex slave now. You should feel soooo lucky…”

Baz felt exhilarated and she just kept thrusting. She stuck her fingers in Rey’s mouth and was careful not to pull too hard as she held on and spread her mouth open wide. “So many pretty holes for me to play with. So much time to play with them. I think we’re pretty compatible, Rey.”

She didn’t know why she couldn’t stop thinking about that night, walking around campus, when Bazine had asked—

Baz cleared her mind and eased Rey forward over Daddy’s chest, and he gave Baz a measured look of concern even as desire still dominated his face and his energy. Baz kissed him hungrily on the mouth and fucked Rey deeper. “She’s ready for a bigger one. Check on her sweet little pussy to make sure it’s okay while I size up?”

Ben chuckled. “Yes, dear. But I’m not big enough to rip a girl open.”

Baz wouldn’t bet on it, and she saw Rey as particularly soft and fragile—especially now that she was a doll. She pulled away and pulled her dick off, and then, she got a devious idea. She let it fall from her hands, made a little ‘oopsies!’ sound, and got down to see it had rolled right into a pile of dust by the nightstand that Daddy must not be good at getting. Silencing a snicker, Baz rolled it around in the dirt, then twisted to see Tallie still laying under the bed. Baz carefully rolled the doll onto its back, then placed the dirty toy into its mouth and made it swallow a few times as it cried. “Whomp-whomp,” Baz barely breathed in her ear before standing up. She skipped one size, because she was confident in her Rey-baby.

Baz also grabbed a wand and a few clothes pins. She lubed herself up—with normal lube this time—and watched Daddy work three big sausage fingers in her ass. “Isn’t she so perfect, Daddy?”

“Yes,” Daddy groaned, and he sounded as in love as Baz was. Baz giggled as Daddy spread Rey’s ass wide, and eagerly, Baz began to push in.

It felt much more normal. Not like it was too big—like it was the right size for a nice, gentle stretch. “Ohhh, Rey-baby. I love my Rey-ctum.”

Daddy chuckled breathlessly at Bazine’s pun, and she giggled, too. Rey liked puns. “Rey-by the Rey-ctum.”

“Aw-ww,” Daddy huffed, sounding sad and also a little more youthful than usual. Baz saw him cup Rey’s cheek. “Don’t cry, Rey. She wasn’t trying to be mean.”

“No,” Baz purred, wrapping around Rey as her heart began to pound. Hurt throbbed in her heart and she fought tears of her own as she nuzzled into Rey and thrust. “I love you. I love you so much. Please, don’t cry. We’ll get the surgery done. I’ll take really good care of you—Daddy’ll make sure that I do.” Baz giggled as she remembered something so vividly—an exchange between them in the dorm after getting caught doing something Baz had had to talk her into. “You always said we needed an adult. Now, we have one forever.”

Ben gave a soft laugh, still a little sad. Baz turned on the wand and put it right to Rey’s clitoris, then turned it up to high.

You use this thing?! Rey had laughed out when Baz had pressured her into a little show-and-tell back around Christmas. I can barely use mine on ‘low’ without throwing it off of me. “I just want to make you feel so good, Rey-by.”

Baz and Daddy fucked her good. Just a minute or two after the wand had hit her clit, Rey surprised Baz with a low, broken, barely-audible gurgling sound that persisted for several long moments. Baz gave a giddy laugh. “I bet she’s coming,” she guessed.

“Oh, yeah—I can see it,” Daddy said, and Baz yanked Rey’s head back to look into her eyes—they were white, rolled back behind fluttering lips, and her brows were upturned beautifully.

“Ohhhh, that’s it, Dollface,” purred Baz. “Come for me. Come on our cocks. Doesn’t that feel so good? You don’t have to do anything ever again except feel so fucking good.”

Rey’s body gasped in raggedly, but as Baz lay her back over Daddy’s front, her breathing grew steady once more. “Good girl,” Baz praised. “Just lay there and come for me. For me and Daddy.”

An alarm began to sing and Daddy had to hurry out to check on the cake in the oven, but Baz didn’t care all that much. She lay Rey on her back and then spread her legs wide open, and Baz looked down in relief to see that Rey was done bleeding—it looked like Daddy had cleaned her up while Baz had visited Tallie.

“Oooh,” Baz said, and she got down to look at Tallie again.

It had been three weeks since Tallie had gone and broken her dumb nose. In the weeks since, the flies had been getting to her nose—well. The bermuda-triangle of exposed flesh and bone that existed gaping where her nose had been. The flesh had gone white and rancid where Baz had repeatedly packed in salt to watch her wither like the slug she was.

The Tallie doll was scrawny now—not that Bazine had ever let her get fat. Baz wondered how long it took her to die if she gave her water and nothing else. Baz looked down at her diaper—it was soiled, and Baz wondered why it didn’t smell if Daddy thought it ought to. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been feeding the doll that much? Curious, Baz reached down and pulled Tallie’s diaper up to peek inside, and she gasped at what she saw.

It all looked strange in there, but she couldn’t see well. Baz dragged Tallie’s bottom half out from under the bed to see better, then carefully opened the cloth diaper to see an infestation of maggots squirming where flesh had been. “Oh, you dirty girl,” Baz said as shock and thrill raced through her body—were maggots not smelly? She could only smell a bit of that awful odor she’d been anticipating. She was careful to keep the ecosystem contained as she closed the diaper up again, then dragged Tallie the rest of the way out. More than anything, Baz wanted Tallie to see what she was. “I hope it hurts.”

Baz opened the diaper again and bent Tallie upright to look at herself—her body fell limply forward, and Baz saw some of the slop that her skin had turned into slide off her backside and onto the diaper and the rug as her body tumbled forward. Maggots fell off of her as her forehead thudded against the ground.

Baz stared in horror as her heart thundered louder than ever before. She almost couldn’t comprehend what had happened—what she had done. “Do you see what you are?” she asked after a moment. “You’re a maggot.” For some reason, Bazine’s body started moving. She walked past Rey’s immobile body on the bed and grabbed her least favorite blanket, then went towards Tallie to make her a bigger diaper.

When most of the mess had been contained, Baz pushed the doll back under the bed, and with difficulty, Baz just barely managed to get the gross rug out from under her heavy, four poster princess bed. She rolled it up so that the only stain Daddy would see was the blood from Tallie’s nose that he already knew about, then scrambled for duct tape as she caught her breath. She taped it up and leaned it against the wall, then put the tape back and washed her hands, and she had barely returned to the bedroom by the time that Daddy came back in.

He was surprised to see that she’d “cleaned up her mess.” Bazine pointed out that she had cleaned up Tallie’s mess, and so, she deserved a gold star. Daddy gave her a rather impatient look and said, “That’s not how this works. Your dolls are your responsibility.” Still, he ruffled Bazine’s hair as she pouted, then picked up the dirty rug and carried it away. Baz went to Rey and pressed a sweet kiss into each of her nipples, then her lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t play with you. I have some bugs down there I was… keeping contained. It would be awful if the dolls had an epidemic—you understand. Don’t worry—if there was an epidemic, we’d quarantine away from the gross ones. We could stay in Daddy’s room for a while… Only if we had to. Boys are smelly, especially at night.”

At least Tallie had an interesting reason to be smelly.

Rey looked horrified, and Baz nodded with a curl of the lip at the thought of Daddy’s garlic-infused morning breath before gingerly plucking away some of the remaining extensions herself. “Don’t worry, poppet. I won’t let you get sick. Daddy is a very good doctor—he’d make you better, anyway. And I promise he’ll give you your voice back.” Baz wiped away Rey’s tears, then got back to the extensions as Rey closed her eyes. “Boingey-boingey-boingey-bing, let’s teach these rocks to sing!”

Rey made a gargling noise, and then, Daddy came back. “Who wants cake?”

The cake was delicious. Baz absolutely insisted on playing mama bird—it just made sense. She chewed up Rey’s food and she tried to look like a porn star swapping seed—she tried to drool it into Rey’s mouth, and the all-white cake played along with Bazine’s fantasy. Baz delighted; with each bite, Rey looked a little less bothered, until by the end of it she just looked tired.

She didn’t even cry.

“That’s more than enough cake for her, Bazine. Have your own piece,” Ben said. Baz glared at him before grabbing it and eating up—it was delicious. She liked it best when the strange things blended in, and here, they really did. She cooed about how good it was and nuzzled into Daddy’s neck, and he flushed and accepted the praise. She tried to get Daddy to eat a slice—he refused, but she managed to talk him into a bite. She grinned and shoveled it into his mouth, and he looked anxious and unamused, unoffended. He shrugged.

Boring.

Baz snuck a piece carefully as Daddy said he’d do the dishes, and she left Rey alone in the high chair and high-tailed it to Tallie. She smeared cake on Tallie’s nose, then her breasts, and then dropped the rest of the cake into her makeshift diaper. Baz used the blanket to smear it around, pushing the maggots up onto Tallie’s stomach without ever having to touch them. “I figured you might want some cuddles,” Baz whispered. She washed her hands, and then hurried back to find Daddy taking extensions out of Rey’s hair again.

“Thank you, Daddy!” Baz said.

He smiled warmly. “You’re quite welcome, Bazine.”

After dessert, Daddy brought them both to the big bathroom and set them on the chaise lounge together. Bazine got Rey and herself ready while Daddy prepared the bath, reminding Baz that she’d already had her turn today. Baz huffed but tried not to fret—she had just been given a bath. Daddy seemed happy she didn’t cause a fuss, because he gave her a deep, generous kiss and told her she was a sweetheart before scooping Rey up and setting her in the bath.

Baz filmed it for the home library. Rey stared dead ahead and didn’t seem to feel too strongly one way or the other. Daddy washed her slowly, gently, and deeply, from head to toe. By the end of it, Rey had mostly kept her eyes closed, and it warmed Bazine’s heart—she looked so cozy and perfect, just like Baz had imagined.

“I’m so happy to be here with you two,” Baz purred, hugging herself.

Daddy smiled fondly at her. “And I with the two of you.”

After bathtime, Daddy started draining the tub and getting ready to dry Rey off. Baz went to her bedroom and pulled on a pullup for nighttime, then started pulling back the bedsheets so that Daddy could place Rey’s sweet, limp body right where it belonged. Baz opened up the nightstand and she got the dildos and rope ready—they were going to cuddle all night long. Baz hid the rope in her pillow case, beneath the pillow, so that Daddy wouldn’t offer to help. She grinned when Daddy came in carrying Rey with her hair french-braided. “Oh—Rey-by! You look like a regular part of the family with a braid. Daddy—will you pretty please braid mine, too?”

Daddy gave her a dazzling smile. “Oh course I will, darling. Let me get your sister comfortable first.”

“Okay.”

Baz watched him place Rey gently in bed, then tuck her legs the rest of the way beneath the sheet. He placed a pillow beneath her knees, then arranged her head on her pillow and cupped her cheek. Baz’s heart melted with warmth as she gazed at them gazing at one another—Rey looked so far away, dazed or maybe shocked…

“‘Thank you, Daddy. I love you.’”

Daddy kissed Rey deeply, hungrily. “I love you, too,” he said into her lips. “Sweet girl.”

Baz sat on the bed next to Rey, crossed legged. Daddy sat behind her and braided her hair, too, as she started looking for a suitable ASMR video to watch. She listened to mouth sounds and watched long, pink-tipped fingers tap the screen and shiny pink children’s toys, and Sanrio-inspired slime. Baz reached out and started playing with Rey’s clit, and she chased away the thoughts of maggots creeping into her vision as her fingers circled and stroked. Eventually, Rey was wet—eventually, Rey was dripping.

“Did you get to finish?” Baz asked.

“No,” Daddy said, a little sad. He kissed her head. “But it’s late. You go to bed. I’ll use one of your toys later.”

“I don’t like it when you do that,” Baz said, her heart pounding and skin crawling. “You’re only supposed to play with Sissy and me. It’s creepy when you diddle the dolls.”

“That’s a new rule,” Daddy said softly, stiffly. He kissed her cheek. “We’ll start it tomorrow, alright? It’s ten o’clock. You and Rey need your beauty sleep, and not even dolls can dream when daddies are inside of them. Not how I need it tonight—that’s for sure. Okay?”

Baz wasn’t happy as he kissed her temple, but she nodded. “Only if you never do it again. Just family from now on.”

Ben chuckled softly and kissed her. “Okay, Bazine. I promise.”

Daddy finished with her hair, then tucked her and Rey in and read them a story about Little Red Riding Hood. Baz slipped her fingers deep into Rey’s cunt when Daddy talked about the wolf raping Little Red in the field of flowers; Baz was smug to feel Rey come on her hand as Daddy talked about the wolf raping Grandma and Little Red and taking over the house. Baz managed to slip her whole hand into Rey by the time Daddy talked about the lumberjack coming and freeing Grandma and Little Red—the lumberjack married Little Red and they lived happily ever after. Baz laid her head on Rey’s ribs and fisted her happily.

“Goodnight, girls,” Daddy said.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Baz said. “‘Goodnight, Daddy.’”

Daddy perused her dolls and he ended up grabbing Kay, another one of Bazine’s favorites. For some reason, it made her less angry—still annoyed, still offended, but less… less like it made Daddy dirty. Baz played with Rey for a while, then filled her up with all sorts of toys for the night.

She got up then, to creep around the house. She had supplies to gather, a plan to hatch—

She absolutely needed to keep Tallie and her babies contained.

Chapter Text

~~~ HALLOWEEN NIGHT ~~~

Rey threw her popcorn up into the air and then swooped over to catch it—just barely, and only by sticking out her tongue like a chameleon. Still, she pulled her treat into her mouth, and she had just thrown another into the air when the dorm room door opened. Rey caught this piece comfortably—no net, so to speak.

“Hey, sexy,” Baz said, because the word ‘boundary’ was not in her vocabulary. Rey turned to watch as Bazine closed the door behind herself.

“Hey, slut,” Rey said. It had taken some getting used to, but by now Baz had grown on Rey. “What’s up?”

“I mean,” Baz said as she threw her purse down. Rey studied her—she wore a skin-tight leather cat suit, thigh high stiletto boots, and leather gloves that looked like short, metallic claws. She had on a headband with fluffy black ears, and she wore a long, fluffy black tail. Rey closed her eyes as Baz gently scratched Rey’s cheek with her weird not-quite-sharp claws. “It’s Halloween. Mrow.”

She was so weird. Rey didn’t know how to reply to that, so she gave a tight smile and nodded. “It is Halloween. Happy Holidays. Mazel Tov. Baruch Hashem.”

Baz huffed. “I will literally give you a thousand dollars to get dressed up with me, you boring skank.”

Rey laughed at that, but Baz seemed serious. Rey sighed and rolled her eyes. “Ugh. But, like—why?”

“We’re roommates!” Baz exclaimed, voice uncharacteristically shrill. Rey stared at her, a little confused but trying not to show it. “We’re friends, cunt. Because I said so! That’s why!”

Baz could act like such a baby sometimes. Rey rolled her eyes again and gave another, even more agitated sigh. “I don’t have a costume.”

“Well then we’d better hurry our sexy little asses up and get to Spirit Halloween—don’t ya think so?”

Rey sighed, but when Baz set her sights on something, it was often a done deal. Soon enough, she was grumpily being dragged along, mourning her evening spent re-watching Halloween movies and binge drinking alone in the dorm.

Baz stopped at the bank and took out a thousand dollars, and it was genuinely surreal for Rey even after they stopped at her bank and she deposited it, out of sight, out of mind. Baz had said her father was a doctor, though—a surgeon who had dabbled in other specialties before settling first in plastic surgery and then in specialty nerve-repair surgeries.

Rey didn’t… care. She just knew Bazine’s “Daddy” seemed richer than God himself. Baz drove a Mercedes and she had a new designer purse every other week—not to mention the clothes, jewelry, shoes… Rey couldn’t relate. She’d aged out of the foster system and she was only at U of M thanks to her copious scholarships and resignation to lifelong debt. A thousand dollars was more money than she’d ever had at one time in her whole life.

At Spirit Halloween, Baz held up a Sally costume from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and it seemed as good an option as any to Rey, so she went with it. Back at home, Rey let Baz do her makeup, and it was about as good a time as they’d had so far as they laughed and joked and bonded. Mostly, they talked about Halloween movies—from the childish and fluffy to the horrifying and macabre. After that, they had just swapped tales about the horror movies that had scarred them both the most when they had been kids before Baz finally decided that Rey’s extensive makeup was done.

Rey had to admit, Bazine was an amazing artist, and she’d done a great job. Unfortunately… That meant it was time to be fashionably late to Bazine’s sorority friends’ party.

It was loud. It was full. Rey clung to Baz like a magnet, and Baz was weirdly into it.

Rey was nobody. She’d always been nobody. Sometime towards the end of middle school, they’d treated her differently—she knew she was ‘conventionally attractive’, or whatever—but it hadn’t made anyone like her in any way that mattered, and it hadn't inspired any kinder treatment like they said it did online and in the movies. It just made her feel like they were meaner to her until she did what they wanted.

Baz was… different. She wasn’t a saint—far from it. She was kind of a mean girl, actually, and she and Rey probably would never have shared a single word with one another had they not been randomly assigned as roommates. But she was honest—almost too honest, in a way that made her as easy to read as a book. That night, the reason came into sharp focus for Rey—she could tell Baz was into her—Bazine was a little too grabby, a little too smiley, a little too attentive. She fluttered her eyelids just a little too much; she blushed a little too hard; she giggled a little too long.

Rey had a bit of a crush on her, too. But there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell for the two of them—they were like polar opposites, and not in the cutesy, opposites-attract kinda way. Rey didn’t know what to do, so she just clung to Baz and drank with her, played beer pong with her, and whatever else. At one point, Rey swam around in her underwear while Baz skinny dipped and then gave a lapdance to some of the football players from school.

It was nice. Rey wished she couldn’t sense some question approaching as the night continued on… but she could. Early in the morning, after the bars stopped serving booze but well before the sun would rise, Rey and Baz walked back to their dorm across campus. Rey was about as drunk as she’d ever been, and she was just happy to have gotten out of that place unscathed. When Bazine’s hand came to hold Rey’s, Rey just held on and squeezed—even expecting what she did, it didn’t seem odd, not with how tired and distracted Rey was.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Rey was sure they had wandered close to some other people for a moment—then, she turned to look at Baz in surprise. Baz turned to meet her eye, deceptively calm, but Rey could feel Bazine’s pulse in her hand—it sped up.

Rey’s heart ached. She wanted to say yes… she was almost surprised by how much she did. But she got a sad smile and looked away. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel it, too,” she admitted. She was whispering, her voice cracking—she cleared her throat and forced herself to speak just a little louder. “But I don’t… I don’t think we’re compatible. I mean, we’re already always bickering over chores and stuff, and… I–I think maybe we should be friends for now. But… I–I do like you. And I’m sorry to say…”

“It’s alright,” Baz said, and she was acting really well. Her eyes betrayed her even as she gave an airy, light chuckle and shrugged. “We—I mean—yeah. We’ll be friends for now. Maybe, um… yeah.”

She’d never stumbled over her words before. Rey squeezed, but suddenly, Baz pulled her hand away and gave a big, warm, empty smile. “So like—how’s your physics project coming along? Professor Phasma is so brutal—haha, I mean, like…” Baz spoke too fast, giggled too quickly. She grew redder and redder. She crossed her arms.

Rey treaded lightly and walked beside her, feeling sorry but sure. Once they got home, Baz lay down and scrolled through TikTok as Rey put on a movie and started washing off her makeup.

“We didn’t take a picture!” Bazine said, shrill. Rey looked up, a streak smeared across the middle of her face. Rey apologized—Baz dismissed her, but she sobbed and it didn’t seem like she could say much. Like a puppy who hadn’t realized she was shitting on the Christmas ham, Rey didn’t see any point in stopping now that it was already ruined, so she quietly finished what she was doing as she heard Baz cry about it.

It took a long time for either of them to fall asleep that night.

~~~ PRESENT DAY ~~~

Amilyn sat in her stand, her face a lifeless mask. She had been the first doll that Ben had ever made successfully—his first attempt had been Aunt Wrobie, then Aunt Larma, and then, Aunt Ami. Wrobie had never woken up; Larma had been able to scream and cry, and it had been haunting and harrowing—she’d looked and sounded like a demon. Amilyn had been successful—but she was as close to porcelain as any of them, most of her nerves dead. She probably couldn’t feel most of her body.

Ben often wondered if she was still in there. Aunt Ami had been fierce and mean—but Amilyn was still and graceful. Gracious.

He didn’t like to look at her—it was the only reason they hadn’t found her when they’d found his next doll. He’d always kept her removed from the others, but he had always been sure to clean her once a day and smother her in extra baby powder to make up for it. He fed her carefully and planned her diet to make sure it all stayed… comfortable.

It just made sense to start with her. If she died… Well, whenever Amilyn finally died, it would be a mercy to them both. “Goodbye,” he said as he started the general anesthetic.

Amilyn woke back up. She could control her breathing—it sped up, it slowed down—it didn’t seem like she could make a sound. But she couldn’t move her face, either—so he had been half-successful, and he hadn’t done the one thing he’d been focusing on avoiding.

Nerves were complicated, and brains were even more so. Throw in the fact that no two peoples’ brains and nerves were ever laid out particularly similarly to one another and, well, you had one tough egg to crack to do what his Bazine wanted done multiple times a year.

He’d do anything for her.

She wasn’t his by blood, but she didn’t need to be—it was better that she wasn’t. Her mother had been a girl a little older than Ben—her name was Jyn Erso, and when they were kids, they’d fallen in love. They’d dated—he’d even asked her to go steady after he turned sixteen, and she’d said ‘yes’, even though he’d been so scared that at twenty-one she would have felt inclined to laugh him off.

She hadn’t, but in the end, fate had other plans. They got caught, and he got sent to Uncle Luke’s military school while Jyn got chased out of town, and she changed her name to Jenna Netal and settled in New York.

A good few years later—when they were adults, living vastly separate lives—she showed up in his office back when he’d worked at the hospital, seemingly as skinny as she’d ever been but somehow as pregnant as could be. She told him she’d been raped, and she’d tried to get an abortion, and she had thought it had worked… But now, her water had broken, and she didn’t know what to do. So, for one night, Dr. Solo played his hand at obstetrician and brought forth a beautiful little baby from his ex-lover’s familiar body.

She hadn’t wanted anything to do with little Bazine. So, Jyn put Ben’s name on the birth certificate, signed away her parental rights, and left.

Every feeling he’d kept hidden away transferred onto Bazine slowly after that. She could stab him in the stomach, and he’d forgive her. So, when she’d come into the basement at age seven despite his warnings not to, and he’d seen the few dolls that he had made—it was just Mother and Amilyn back then—and then she’d asked to play with them… Well, it had seemed like a real win-win-win.

He taught Bazine how to take care of them. At first, she was very invested—at first, she wanted to spend all of her free time in the basement, just caring for the dolls. Especially Leia—Bazine had called her “Grandma Leia” and waited on her like a handmaiden on a Queen. Ben missed dearly how soft and sweet she had started out…

It would be better once he could help the dolls talk. Sure, she’d always be able to turn them off again—but then, she’d never be able to forget that they were still human underneath it all, either.

Dr. Kylo Ren got closer and closer to perfecting his voicebox surgery and his mastery over the cranial nerves with every surgery. Amilyn lasted six of those surgeries, and then, it was time for the next oldest doll: Voe. She was his college sweetheart, but they’d drifted apart after she’d joined the Air Force. They reconnected years later, and she recalled the horrors she had committed against other people—the horrors she’d had committed against her… And he’d taken her.

And he’d made her new. Her eyes didn’t work at all—she couldn’t see anymore, and they’d become pale and weak and withered in her skull as her body stopped bothering to waste resources on them anymore.

“Goodbye, Voe,” he said as he started the general anesthesia. He pretended his heart wasn’t heavy, but he’d known for a long time… she’d rather go. Especially after all of this time without her eyes.

He wondered if she still saw in her dreams as he sent her towards them for one of the last times.

~~~

“I’VE been workin’ on the RAIL-road!” Rey screamed as she jumped from puddle to puddle, a long staff in her hand. “ALL the live-long day!”

“I’VE been workin’ on the RAIL-road!” Finn joined in with her somewhere behind her, and he was whacking the trees with his stick as he ran—he had a long stick, too, but he said his was a lightsaber. Together, they scream-sang, “JUST TO PASS THE TIME AWAY!”

It was spring in upper-mid Michigan and the pair were running through the woods in the town they lived in. Well—Finn lived there with his Nana and his aunties and his cousins, but Rey was living with her foster mother, Maz, and they knew it wasn’t permanent—Maz was too old. Finn’s Auntie Janice had tried to adopt Rey, but the state or whoever said that they already didn’t have a “stable household” and that it “probably wasn’t a good fit”, and that was awful and it just wasn’t true.

Rey was so mad that she couldn’t stop thinking about that, even when they were playing. She started running, fast—“Hey!” Finn hollered.

“C’mon!” she hollered back. “The Leech-Heads are after us! We gotta move, move, mo—FINN, DUCK!”

Finn bobbed down under a hanging branch at the last moment, and Rey stopped to help him as he stumbled. “I–I don’t think the Leech-Heads are that fast,” he said quickly.

“You’re right,” Rey agreed, whispering. “But their hearing is getting better. We have to be fast AND quiet. Okay?”

Finn nodded; he seemed to like this game better now, and it made Rey happy to see. “Are you ready?” Finn asked.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah. On three?”

Together, they whispered, “One… two… three.” Finn and Rey grabbed hands and began to run, looking ahead of them and whispering to each other about obstacles. They hurried towards the thick pine tree that had so many thick branches that they could climb it all the way to the top—they had tried to build a treehouse there, Bridge To Terabithia style, but all they’d managed were some poorly-nailed-down boards, a rickety rope ladder that had taken Rey way too many tries to tie, and pillows that fell down so frequently that both of them were very used to shimmying up and down that rope quickly in order to retrieve them.

They’d started building little shacks on the ground with scrap wood so that they could practice. Building was a lot harder than Rey had realized it was when they’d started the project just under a whole year ago.

When Rey wasn’t paying attention, Finn faded away, and she didn’t notice. She got older, too—without noticing or stopping, Rey grew from a nine-year-old to a nineteen-year-old, still running alone in the woods. She didn’t turn around—she could hear them, and she didn’t want to know what Leech-Heads looked like. She’d gone this long without seeing them—she wouldn’t let them haunt her dreams now. She pretended not to imagine creepy, Slenderman-like creatures with maggots on its face and in place of the long tendrils on the creepypasta’s back. It had teeth like a lamprey and small, creepy, snot-green eyes.

“Oh, Re–ey…” came a familiar voice, followed by a sadistic giggle. “It’s time to play dollies!”

The ground fell out from underneath Rey, and suddenly, she was an Alice in Wonderland doll, falling through the rabbit hole. She was made of cloth and cotton, and when she hit the floor and bounced, she felt no pain at all.

~

She woke up with a gasp when light flooded her eyes. Her eyes were all she was anymore.

Baz was grinning down at her, demented as always. Rey didn’t know how much time had passed since she’d been dragged into hell, but it was a familiar sight. Baz opened up Rey’s mouth and took out Rey’s tongue, then cleared her throat and, like most mornings, she hocked a loogie into Rey’s mouth and then made her swallow it.

It tasted salty and familiar. With such little input, her mind never could ignore it. Rey stared into Bazine’s eyes, and she saw the color of piss and snot. She was largely unaffected by it now.

“You wait here,” Baz said, as if she’d left Rey any semblance of choice in the matter. “I’m going to go get Daddy. I’m really horny—it’s time to play again.”

‘Horny’ was easier to deal with than most of the other emotions. When Rey was alone, she practiced grumbling—she could make a sound about half the time now. It felt like she was peeling her forehead off of her skull like gorilla tape off the ground, but when she tried to move her brows, they knitted a bit more readily. She could wiggle her nose now, too. She was worried all she’d ever be was a face to briefly consider humoring, a voice to consider permitting.

It had to have been months now—it felt like decades. Rey felt like she was losing her mind. Every time they left her alone, she’d start to hear things—see them.

Every time the television shut off before Rey finally managed to fall asleep, her brain basically put on its own live-action rip-off of Five Nights At Freddy’s—she was trapped in her doll body, in Bazine’s bed of brutality, and her eyes flashed through scenes and memories and hallucinations like malfunctioning cameras.

Only, in her reality, she was more akin to the kids stuffed into the suits than Michael Afton or Springtrap.

I̸̲̲̾T̵͚̻̄̾ ̸̜̑I̴̦̲̓S̶̛͈ͅ ̶̞̆͜M̵̖̼̿͑E̴̦̎̎.̴̨̍̚ ̶͚̎͝T̶̞̞̽͘H̷̹̟̅̋Ȇ̵̮̱ ̵̗̿͜O̷͇͘͠N̵̤̆͑E̸͉̝͠ ̸͉̞͑Ý̷̡Ö̷̻̓U̴̼̎ ̸̖̲͂͆S̸̝͆̿Ḫ̷͒Ő̶̟͗Ȕ̵̝̥̄L̷͗͜D̷̯̓ ̷̥̰̈́Ṋ̶͇͗͆Ȏ̴̤͝T̸̬̐̐ ̶̼͇̈́͠H̶̻̒Á̸̠͓͛V̵͈̪́̐E̵̫͒ ̸̳̲̑K̴͎̓͜Ĩ̶͖̈L̷̈́̀͜L̵̥̜͌È̷̞͓̀D̷̢͗.̴̣̇͘

Rey had scarcely seen the nightmare under the bed, but she knew some poor woman was down there, and it was so bad that Baz seemed to treat the situation more like damage control than a sick experiment—and Rey had witnessed Bazine perform atrocities like a traumatized kid with a pocket knife and a stray puppy that no one would ever know he had access to. She assumed… whatever under that bed was outright inconceivable.

Sometimes, from what Rey’s mind conjured crawling out from under the bed, maybe it was worse to not have seen the truth. Whatever it was… Baz called the woman ‘Maggo-Tallie’, and every few days, a new swarm of flies would appear in the bedroom. Ben searched and searched and searched for the source, but each and every time, he made the mistake of announcing his plans… And each and every time, like a sneaky kid in a click-and-point video game, Baz would creep around and DIY new hidey-holes for the woman that Baz hid even from the dolls she didn’t see as human.

When Kylo came in, he looked at Rey with that sickening look in his eye—one that told her just how fondly he viewed her. At first, she had thought he was the closest thing to sanity she could find—maybe that was true, but the longer she saw him, the closer she got to seeing how Baz had ended up with such ass-backward ethics. The Good Doctor didn’t have any, either. They’d had seven ‘funerals’ for the women he’d killed—“dolls” he’d “practised his voicebox recovery surgery” on so far. At this point, Rey didn’t want her voice back—she wanted a SWAT team to break in and for some hothead to either kill them all on sight, or for an old anti-hero officer to put a bullet in her head on purpose. Rey Nieman was dead—it was time to bury her.

“You have all been called here, into a labyrinth of sounds and smells, misdirection and misfortune. A labyrinth with no exit, a maze with no prize. Your lust for blood has driven you in endless circles, chasing a peace created only through the suffering of your victims. A peace that always seems so near, yet somehow out of reach. But you will never find them. This is where your story ends.

And to you, my brave, stupid volunteer, although there was a way out planned for you, I have a feeling that's not what you want. What they have done to you will not be remembered, and the memory of everything that started this can finally begin to fade away, as the agony of every tragedy should. And to you monsters trapped in the corridors, be still, and give up your spirits. They don't belong to you. For most of you, I believe there is peace and perhaps more waiting for you after the smoke clears. Although for two of you, the darkest pit of hell has opened to swallow you whole—so don't keep the devil waiting.”

BOOM! The gun would crack, and Rey’s broken body would fall to the floor, and she would die or ascend or burn or anything—anything at all. Reality was never meant to be this still.

Baz positioned Rey on the bed, and she opened up Rey’s diaper and tossed it to the side. Rey’s head dangled off the side of the bed, her mouth agape, and Kylo’s girthy, oversized cock came red-and-ready towards Rey’s parted lips.

One day, without warning, she’d bite it off. Baz could make her choke to death on it for all she cared—at least Rey would take one of them with her. At least it would be the one with the skill to keep making more victims.

Bazine began to eat Rey out eagerly as Kylo slipped into Rey’s throat. It was like he’d cut away her gag reflex—her throat didn’t seize up, just let him in, and for the angle and his filthy experience, he raped her throat with skill and an ease that Rey found simply too obscene to permit into her mind.

Can't you hear the whistle blowing?

Rise up so early in the morn.

Can't you hear the captain shoutin'

"Dinah, blow your horn?"

Dinah, won't you blow,

Dinah, won't you blow,

Dinah, won't you blow your horn, you horn?

Dinah, won't you blow,

Dinah, won't you blow,

Dinah, won't you blow your horn?

It took a long time. Rey’s sex had long stopped behaving how she was used to, and now, it was always oversensitive and reluctant to perform—and yet, Bazine continued to lick and lap and prod at it all the same, her long nails sharp and invasive even when she was wearing gloves—and she often didn’t bother. And when it scratched Rey’s chamber open, Baz liked to giggle and coo and suck the blood from her fingers. She could kill a woman and drink all of her blood, raw, right in front of Rey, and Rey was pretty sure it would be one of the least shocking performances she’d seen so far.

And the man-thing… Kylo Ren was forty-nine, almost fifty. He had Viagra and he took it regularly—it kept him hard, but it didn’t seem to help him come. He had a particular fondness for Rey—when he “borrowed” her at night, he’d whisper into her ear that she was the only one who could take “all of him, everywhere” and that maybe Bazine would agree to let Rey be Mommy if Rey could learn the rules properly.

Rey’s favorite dream—favorite nightmare—favorite hallucination was Rey as Mommy, finally trusted to bathe Bazine alone and drowning her in the tub.

She’d stop a few times. She’d make her breathe in air once each break. Rey would say, “This is for Tallie,” or, “Watersports always were your favorite, dear,” and then, she’d drown her again.

And then, the second Kylo got home, Rey would lure him into ropes for some “family bonding time” and then she’d castrate him, lobotomize him, cauterize his wounds, and then turn herself into the police.

They could throw him into the zoo. She hoped his exhibit would be close enough to the chimpanzees to lure one of the boys over to pay Ren a visit and finish him off—a year or so after arriving. Just so that he could experience being as stuck and sore as she was.

Rey was rotting. Just a lot less literally than Tallie was. I hope you’re already dead.

She didn’t think Tallie was, though—Baz talked to her like she wasn’t. And to Rey, that was much, much worse.

Chapter Text

Dr. Ren stared at Korr, and he was tense and stiff. Baz had gone back to school, leaving the house awfully quiet—a breakthrough in the voicebox surgery would be a much-needed blessing in the quiet that settled over the house whenever she was gone. Korr was the latest test subject—the first girl that Baz had been reluctant to spare. She said that if Ben wanted any more test subjects, he’d have to go out and make his own.

He was trying not to think about the two women in the basement. They weren’t dolls yet—it had been rough to get them both, terrifying to almost fail in doing so, and he’d left them in kennels as if they were the strays he caught, fixed, and released.

He knew he was dangerously close to mad scientist territory, but Rey needed her voice back. Bazine was starting to get depressed without her, too. He would do anything for his daughters—anything, to anyone.

Korr’s eyes opened, and Kylo sat up and leaned forward, watching. Her brow knitted—more than Rey’s ever did. Kylo’s breath caught—Korr’s whole face twisted up. Her neck twitched like some of the muscles in it worked, but not others.

Kylo had learned he couldn’t properly free the voice without freeing the face—it was obvious, but he had hoped… Nevertheless, too many different muscles were used in talking. Korr looked shocked and scared as she breathed in fast and deep. She made a soft whine—she jumped as much as she could, crying out, and then gasped in horror. She grabbed her throat as if the fact that it made noise were a sign of something wrong. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d turned her into a doll… At least five years. Six or seven, if he had to guess?

She sputtered out sounds and stared at her hands—she looked around the room, and she caught sight of her reflection in the dark window that kept out the night outside. Her eyes went wide and she touched her face. Korr didn’t seem to recognize herself—she had been just barely a teenager when he’d changed her, and now, she was a fully grown woman. Kylo’s heart pounded as he stared and waited. “What the fuck? Wh—” Korr’s eyes turned back to him. Disgust and hatred filled her eyes—she seemed almost reluctant to even look at him—a strange fear crept into her eyes like she saw Satan where he sat.

“Are you in any pain?” he asked. Her voice sounded gravelly, dusty, and strained—her muscles were certainly atrophied after so many years of disuse.

“She put needles in my stomach—right at the start,” Korr crackled out hatefully, looking haunted and offended to have been asked. She put her hands on her belly and looked down at her body as if she were haunted by it. Kylo’s stomach fell to his feet, and he closed his eyes in shame. “I’m always in pain, you…” she didn’t seem to be able to think of an insult, but the tone of her voice as she croaked ‘you’ was a damnation. “You have to kill me,” she whimpered.

Ben sat there and resisted the urge to hug himself as she began to sob. She repeated it—she screamed it—she explained and she pleaded and she cursed. When Kylo Ren remembered how to walk, he got up and looked through the drawers to assemble a lethal cocktail.

It… was not the breakthrough he had been hoping for.

~~~

If Rey disliked Bazine’s torture, it was nothing in comparison to Monstro-Tallie’s.

Bazine—the evil cunt—went back to college. At first, Rey had been relieved—she had desperately eavesdropped on every conversation waiting for another confirmation of when Baz was finally going to leave her alone, at least for the first few months of school.

What a fucking idiot Rey was. Each and every fucking time she could think like a fucking dumbass, she did. Baz left her in Kylo’s care, and like this was their routine, they moved all of the dolls into his bedroom.

He… used very different doll stands than Baz did.

Rey now lived the bulk of her life perched on a sybian in a sea of other suffering souls, with one cock in her ass and one in her cunt, and vibrations hollowing out her soul. He said ‘stimulation would keep them sane’, and he seemed to believe himself. If that was true, Bazine must have carved all of the sanity out of them all a long time ago—the only thing the sybian did past hour one of day one was burn her core and destabilize her mind further.

She was a schedule, a chore, a hamster and its disorienting ball all in one. She sat in the middle, ever the prized possession, staring at his crumpled sheets and the sweaty cum-stains that the washing machine couldn’t seem to combat. She could see his alarm clock—time was real again, but only in the worst way. Each and every day, Rey would wake up in his bed, often with his dick already stuffed inside of her somewhere and his hands pushing down on her in ways he probably didn’t realize were cruel and suffocating at least half of the time—at least Bazine was a competent sadist. Kylo Ren was more like a bumbling, bartering buffoon half the time—how he’d managed to be so talented at neurosurgery, Rey would never understand, because as far as she could see it, he was a fucking idiot.

Her mind began to change so quickly she could almost notice the difference each day—it was one of the few variables, after all. It regressed—it got angrier—it used words that Rey hadn’t since she had been at her darkest, as a child. But now… everything before felt like a distant, unfamiliar, pastoral peace she’d never return to. Even the horrors back then had been rendered small and insignificant—like she was dreaming of the backrooms to escape Eddie Gluskin’s surgical mutilation.

Kylo was too busy to keep Rey company all day long the way Baz had over summer break. After he woke up and used her like a cumsock, he placed her on her assigned sybian, and turned her on like a fucking hologram pornstar. He’d change all the other women’s diapers, and Rey found herself hoping for blowouts and distructions—anything that made Kylo’s life as awful as it could be. At least he wasn’t as much of a freak as Baz—he didn’t giggle and tease the victim in question about what he found, but recoiled at it like an overburdened father.

When he was done cleaning them up, he took a shower, and as she was left alone—no television, no radio, no music—that was when the monsters began to come for her.

There were several and they did vary, but the morning was often consistent. Rey would sit there, her sex on fire and the sensation of arousal quickly became synonymous with a burning, itching pain. She’d sit, immobile as ever, and something unseen would gargle and groan under the bed, wordless and mangled. Tentacle-like, worm-like shadows would dance out from under it, and flies and maggots became near-permanent additions to Rey’s world regardless of whether or not they were really there. Usually, as the sound of the shower pounded through the open door from the bathroom, the mangled body of Kallie as she was left to bleed to death after being ripped and bitten to pieces by a giggling, snarling Bazine would appear and tell Rey that she was going to die just like her.

Rey saw two Bazines: the one with yellow eyes and sharp, demonic teeth, and a hollow-cheeked, watery-eyed girl crying in the corner, cowering away from Kylo in fear. She often flickered back and forth between them like Jeanette and Therese Voerman.

Kallie’s haunted face had a tendency to fade into Rey’s, then snap back. It seemed as if Rey’s mind would do anything—even torture her—rather than let the silence and the sting of her sex sit undisturbed.

But soon enough, Kylo Ren would come back and chase all the other monsters away. He fed all of the women one at a time, then ate on his bed before wishing them a good day and disappearing.

And then the monsters fell upon her again. She couldn’t linger in any one daydream; she would grow tired of it, and it would become less effective at keeping the monsters out. That was the only way to fend off her monsters, really—with imagined angels, fighting not to give in and let herself be tormented all morning long.

Somewhere along the line—with much struggle and mad dedication—Rey managed to start humming whenever she wanted. She sounded awful at first—she had no range, no control. But as she fought, Rey would hum. The songs often strengthened her angels—especially if the angel her brain conjured her and Finn building their Tree Palace in the sky.

I’ve been workin’ on the railroad…

You are my sunshine…

We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne…

Kylo brought a new woman in not long after he took Korr away—he introduced her as “Rose”, and he set her up next to Rey and told her to keep Rose company.

Fuck you—Fuck you—fuck you very, very much.

'Cause your words don't translate

And it's getting quite late,

So—please, don't stay in touch…

After Kylo finished working in the morning, he brought lunch up to his bedroom. He’d feed them all one by one—always starting with Rey—and then, he’d always eat last. It bothered Rey to think he thought of himself as a gentleman for that.

She imagined torture she’d never even heard of before. The things she imagined doing to this man… they were far and beyond what Rey would ever do, even if tasked with killing him in order to save someone.

It was probably on par with whatever Bazine had done to poor Tallie to make Maggo-Tallie. For a long time, Rey fought not to think about her at all, but it didn’t work. The harder she avoided it, the uglier the monster was the next time it broke through her defenses—and it would always break through, far too often.

Her brain needed anything but the nothing.

Rey had… a system of names for poor Tallie and the hallucinations she wrought. Tallie, of course… was herself. The poor woman who Rey hoped was dead by now—she didn’t believe it would be easy to keep a woman in that condition alive very long. Rey had only ever seen legs covered in sores and maggots, but the diapers that Bazine had pulled out from beneath the bed were haunting, and Rey knew that whatever was above those legs was in worse condition than anything she’d ever glimpsed. Bazine had stashed Tallie away somewhere late August, saying she’d be “taken care of”, and from the things she said that had faded from Rey’s memory she could only assume that meant the bitch had left the poor woman to die slowly, alone.

It had been weeks now—time was meaningless, but the trees were changing color outside and the leaves were the only beauty she could behold. Those damned legs Rey occasionally glimpsed got skinnier and skinnier each time she saw them, but the body was much more demanding when it came to water. Rey tried to reassure herself that Tallie was dead—she wasn’t in pain anymore. It was almost a relief to watch her hallucinations wither with the weather—nothing gold could stay, but neither could the wretched.

It was hard to be optimistic. It was hard to keep hope. Rey didn’t believe in anything other than pain anymore. Pain was the only thing that had proven itself to be real in months. She tried to tell herself that this, too, shall pass, but the sentence itself quickly became a taunt that her brain chucked at her from time to time.

Maggo-Tallie was just the state Bazine had forced Tallie into—a manifestation of the real, physical suffering she’d gone through for Bazine’s cruel amusement, something Rey’s brain made new, horrific guesses about—sometimes, the hallucination twisted from one speculation to another over the course of hours, minutes, even moments. 

Monstro-Tallie… well, Monstro-Tallie wasn’t real or Rey’s speculative guess about reality, but that monster was alive and well. Monstro-Tallie was the realest hallucination Rey fought. Not the bugs and the tentacles that cried like Tallie should have been able to—that was… a shadow in comparison. It hardly even bothered Rey anymore, after everything—after months of seeing it all day, every day, almost without reprieve. Monstro-Tallie was different, and that was what came screeching through the hallways of the house like a beast—like a demon come up from hell to claim a soul before it could be swallowed back into its depths.

It was so loud that it shook the whole house. It was as big as a port-o-potty and hunched over like a Little Nightmares monster. Its arms were too thin and too long and too plentiful, like a human centipede with viscera in place of chitin. Giant maggots burrowed into it and squirmed beneath its putrid flesh. It had five faces—Tallie, Kallie, Rey, Baz, and Kylo, but all of them were wicked and wrong and broken and painful. It threw its unnatural, asymmetrical body around and tore through the halls too fast for its size and clunkiness, battering through obstacles that only made it louder. It screamed in five and five thousand voices at once.

Once it began to chase her, she could see it like she had cameras throughout the house. She’d imagine an adult Finn with a bright blue lightsaber and a determined gleam in his eyes, fighting it back—the only Jedi strong enough to free the vessel from its infestation of the Dark side of the Force.

If she was lucky—and she usually wasn’t—Finn kept Monstro-Tallie at bay. Most of the time, though, it would break through the walls or tear him to pieces or some new thing each time, and Rey would hallucinate—sometimes vividly, but sometimes, they were simply disturbing intrusive thoughts—as Monstro-Tallie tore through the other women in the room, grabbing them and tearing and biting like Bazine and Kallie that first day. Puking up bile filled with angry flies and shitting maggots over the walls in its gluttonous glee.

If it got there, it didn’t leave, and Rey hyperventilated into her immobile body. If it lasted too long, she fainted, and she’d come back in oxygen-deprived waves until her body managed to find solid ground again… and even then, the monster did not leave, eating at Rey for what felt like days on end like maggots under the bed.

Sometimes, if the sybian hurt too much, time would fold in on itself and she’d find Monstro-Tallie terrorizing her no matter how solidly her angels had been holding the wall.

Everything was awful. Rey wished she was dead. She hoped he’d roll onto her one night and suffocate her in her sleep.

Eventually Kylo would get back for dinner. He’d tell Rey she looked exhausted and he’d often turn her sybian off before everyone else’s, leaving her tingling, sore, and numb—like mint. He’d feed them and turn the television behind them on and he’d eat, and then, he’d pull Rey onto the bed and cuddle her.

In the evening, Rey was not a person, but a pair of eyes and a nervous system. Nothing existed but the television and a vague warmth behind her, and if she could forget about the cretin touching her for long enough, she could mentally relax into the hand that stroked through her hair. She stared at his television and could not bear to blink too long, even if she stayed up late and those eyes that held all of what remained of Rey began to burn and water, she still only tried to blink it away and keep staring, absorbing, hearing, seeing, feeling.

If he noticed her eyes watering, he’d roll her over onto her back, turn off the television, and read to her. It was certainly better than silence, but Rey was never able to forget who he was and what he had done to her if she could hear him and see him.

She hated him. She hated him more than Bazine, or Stalin, or Satan, or anyone.

“Alas, I was unable to transcend the simple human fact that whatever spiritual solace I might find, whatever lithophanic eternities might be provided for me, nothing could make my Lolita forget the foul lust I had inflicted upon her,” he read. She hated his taste in literature.

As time went on without her, Rey began to think of Bazine as Kylo’s first victim. He talked about when she was a baby—he was her dad, her literal dad, even if not biologically. She’d explained to Rey late one night, just before leaving, that she was adopted, and after Bazine graduated, she wanted both of them to get pregnant with boys at the same time, and Baz would marry Rey’s son, and Rey would marry Bazine’s son, and the boys would take care of them after “Daddy” died.

Everything was awful. Whatever Bazine was—unforgivable as she was—she was just Frankenstein’s monster. Dr. Ren was Dr. Frankenstein.

He became another hallucination—one that came to her almost exclusively in the night. She thought of him as Dr. Ren—he looked like a handsome, dapper, Victorian gentleman, but his fancy clothes were torn and stained, and he was a zombie with chunks missing from his body and worms crawling around in his skin. He had a vile, silver beetle in his one empty eye socket, and it would crawl out and shimmer in the moonlight.

Her Dr. Ren was, if she were honest, not much like Victor Frankenstein—they were obsessive about their work, and that was perhaps the extent of the similarities. Dr. Ren slowly shuffled closer, and if she fell asleep soon enough, he was just a creepy figure in the dark. But if she took too long, he’d lay down on his side in front of her—Kylo always put her on one of her sides—and grin at her, showing the rotten, half-missing ruins he called teeth. Maggots fell out and onto her pillow, and more often than not, Rey could almost—or really, truly—feel them as they crawled slowly up her head, into her mouth, into her nose, into her eyes, into her ears.

They didn’t hurt. They were cold and they tickled and they made her feel ill. They made her wish she was already dead. The dead were meant for maggots; the living were not.

Dr. Ren would grope her and pinch her and prod her like Baz did to the dolls she didn’t like. But mostly, he would lean forward and start kissing and suckling on her neck, eating her alive and muttering at her the same filth that Kylo did when he raped her.

Until she fell asleep.

~~~

“Ahh… ba-wa-ha… ah-ha… wa-ah… woh…” The sound blended into Ben’s dream for a while, but it was strange and unfamiliar, even as some small part of him vaguely recognized the rhythm. He breathed in deep through his nose as it went on: “Ahh ha ha huh-heh…”

I been workin’ on the railroad… Ben opened his eyes and gave a great yawn, looking over and seeing Rey staring at the ceiling. As he finished stretching, he realized something—he sat up and looked down at her, still groggy. Her bright hazel eyes came to look into his, and they were as tired as they always looked. “Can you hum?”

Rey blinked twice—no. He sighed, then looked around the room at the other dolls. “Can someone hum for me? I thought I heard humming.”

No response. He sighed and got up, stretching his aging body in preparation for carrying more than a dozen women from their small mattresses and onto their electric doll stands. His fiftieth birthday was soon—luckily, it overlapped with Bazine’s winter break, so he’d get to spend the time with both of his daughters.

Bazine missed Rey a lot. She mentioned it every call, every letter. Apparently, the school had organized a vigil for Rey, and Bazine had been busy helping with that. He tried to show her the news clip about it—to him, it was a nice if sad way to reconnect with the friends she couldn’t talk to anymore—but it had been the first time she’d ever squeezed her eyes shut and furrowed her brow at television—her favorite thing, generally. So, after a moment, he had turned the television back to Ugly Americans and watched her stare wide-eyed at Callie Maggotbone’s flaming, cartoon head. Eventually, Rey got back to huffing in amusement every once in a while like Ben was used to.

He loved to hear it. He tried to focus on comedies, but he knew it would be most effective if he kept it fresh, so to speak. He was considering how to rearrange the room so the dolls could watch television while he was gone—maybe they’d like that. He hadn’t thought of it until he realized how damn near addicted to the fucker Rey was. Kids these days—he shrugged it off light-heartedly.

He didn’t have long today. He had an alarm set for when he needed to go check on Paige—it was time to wake her up and see the fruits of the latest attempt. He had installed a button in her chest—if all went well, he could turn her muscles on and off with a particularly tricky little method he’d cooked up slowly from patient to patient. It was farther than he’d come yet—but he was still anxious.

He needed to succeed soon. Rey was looking more and more troubled by the day, and for the life of him, Ben couldn’t figure out why. He’d even sat on the sybian while he worked from home for a while just to see if it was uncomfortable—he had taken to doing so regularly, just for a few hours a day, to see if it was cumulative. Unfortunately, he still had to work—he didn’t get to spend his entire day masturbating. He wished he could—that was why he’d set them up that way, after all. But he was not built for OnlyFans; that did not sound nearly as profitable as the slew of remote jobs he had to juggle. He missed surgery—he missed his medical license—but the degree itself still opened up enough opportunities that, with enough hustle, no one felt the difference in his paycheck.

Well. Except for all of those patients whose lives he couldn’t save. He had been world-renowned for his neurosurgery—he had lived his life with a backlog of patients. Cancellations were meaningless to him; a new patient was always available. In fact, the real trouble had been making time for the emergencies without displacing the schedule. Sadly, he reminded himself that dwelling wouldn’t bring that life back.

Ben set Rey up on a throne of pillows on his bed and kissed her deeply, cradling her face and lapping at her mouth. She was so soft and small and easy to cradle. He was as devoted to her now as he was to Bazine. He pulled away with struggle and said, “I love you, beautiful woman. I hope you like this show. I have more work to do tonight.”

Rey looked shocked, but he wasn’t sure why. He kissed the tip of her nose, then got up and headed for the door, watching the creepy wizard tell a stupid joke all the while.

He went down to the lab and peered in to see… nothing. Paige… wasn’t on the exam table. He froze for just a moment, and then—heart pounding as confusion and shock shot through him like a mighty harpoon through water—he turned.

Chapter Text

Paige didn’t know how much time had passed. She didn’t know where she was, or where her sister had been taken. All she knew was that suddenly, after weeks alone, immobile, degraded and demeaned, she could move again.

She got up and nearly fell back down. She took it slow and she hated it—she took that hate and she cannibalized it, using it as fuel. She imagined herself a mother tiger protecting her newborn cub—her body wasn’t ready, but it had to be, because it wasn’t just her body on the line.

Rose was the only thing that mattered. Rose was the only thing Paige had anymore—it had been just the two of them for a long time.

Paige quickly found scalpels in her room, but kept searching for a heftier weapon—the man that kidnapped them was well over six-feet tall and as broad as a house. When she couldn’t find anything right away, she grabbed a scalpel in each hand as if she knew how to wield them, and tried to look tougher than she felt as she anxiously poked her head out of the door and tried to see if it was safe.

She went from room to room until she found the big one with the kennels that she and Rose had been kept in—both were empty. Paige hurried quietly to the stuff all over the shelves, looking desperately for something like a baseball bat or a crowbar—something she was fairly confident she could use.

She found a wooden plank and decided it was her best option. She practiced swinging it, and she was glad she did—it was slow and hard to wield. She rifled through his tools and tried various things until she had whittled away enough holes that swung alright, and then, she did her best to turn the thin end of the plank into a grippable handle. With time, frustration, tears, a few nicks, and plenty of splinters—and duct tape—Paige managed.

She got up and swung a bit, practicing while careful to keep quiet. She stretched as she went, then decided it was best to keep her energy up—a balance was probably important.

Swallowing her doubts about her intuition, Paige turned and went the other way down the hallway, as this room was a dead end as far as Paige could tell.

Or so she thought—halfway through the long, zig-zagging hall, she heard a heavy metallic sound like a rusty manhole being pulled out of its spot. She froze and hid behind the corner, peeking out to wait to see who it was. She ignored her pounding heart and the adrenaline that shot through her as best as she could, and she caught sight of his distant figure approaching, hunched over and rubbing the back of his neck. Paige ducked behind the wall and readied her back, closing her eyes and picturing it— she knew how long that hallway was, she just walked it. Forty feet from where he started to where she was. She listened to the sound of his feet and made a mental image of him walking, his footsteps in tandem… his strides approximate…

He stopped no fewer than fifteen feet away, and Paige didn’t have time to think twice. She peeked around the corner and saw him peering into one of the white doors with its plastic window, and her body moved before her brain did. She walked and felt her heart pounding against her ribs, and as she approached, she lifted her plank, channeled all her might, and planted her feet. In a full-body maneuver, Paige swung.

He turned, but that only changed which part of his head she hit. The sound was otherworldly—she watched in slow-motion as his head hit the wall and his big body crumbled to the floor. She jumped over him and hurried away before turning, holding the plank defensively as she looked at him.

He was lying there, a crumpled tissue on the ground. She waited only ten, quickly-counted seconds before being confident he’d be out at least for a minute or two, and then, she conjured up the nasty taste in her throat and spat in his face. She turned and brought her cracked plank back to the kennel room, and she taped it as solid as she could before climbing a rusty ladder that hadn’t been there before and climbing up, up, up into the outside evening.

She laughed as she felt the wind and smelled the freshness in the air. She tumbled out of the hatch and her eyes closed in on the house she was behind—big and fancy, the American dream. She walked towards the sliding glass doors and opened one with ease and slipped inside of a kitchen. She listened for noise—she heard none, so she moved into the kitchen and dropped her plank. She grabbed one of the sheathed kitchen knives and a cast iron skillet. She called out in a frantic, slightly-raised whisper, “Rose? Ro-ose?”

Silence. Paige crept up the stairs and kept the skillet close to her body, brandishing the knife in her other hand. She looked around, wide-eyed, but the upstairs was also silent save for the muffled sound of a television somewhere. “Rose?”

Paige followed the television to a door, and just outside of it, she whispered, “Rose!”

“Row!” came a strange voice. Paige’s brow furrowed, and with a flash of bravery, she opened the door and held out the knife.

First, Paige saw a woman sitting on the bed, her mouth oddly agape and her face strained and twisted. She was sitting on a bunch of pillows—

It didn’t take long for the other side of the room to catch her attention. So many women—her eyes settled on Rose near the front, and she immediately began to sob. She dropped the weapons and ran forward to grab her sister and hold her close, crying out her name over and over.

Rose didn’t respond. No one did—no one else moved. Paige gently took her sister off of the torture device she’d been left on, and she struggled to set her up with any dignity—there were so many women here, and they all deserved dignity—

Paige didn’t know how much time she had to get out and get help. For the first time since she’d woken up, she needed to stop and think hard to figure out what to do next. “Phone,” she said, calm and focused.

Someone had spoken.

“Roar…”

Paige’s head whipped to the side and she looked at the woman on the bed. Paige stumbled closer—this one wasn’t in a weird princess dress, like Rose and the others—like Paige had been before she could move again—she was naked and dotted with small bruises clustered around her neck and breasts. Her face held a softer horror on it, and she looked almost bug-eyed as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “Troar…”

Paige repeated the sound in her head several times until it sounded like drawer. Paige turned to study the room—her breath caught as she saw a cell phone resting on top of a medium-sized dresser, and she thanked the woman and flew towards it. She was staring down at a locked screen asking for a password when she heard a horrifying gargling sound, and then, “Put the phone down, and turn around.”

~~~

Rey’s mouth couldn’t scream even as she felt it twist painfully in grief. Kylo came back, and he picked up the knife and pan that the woman had brought with her. One of his eyes was red instead of white and his head was sliced open and bleeding. His right shoulder was drenched in blood, and his shirt was stained with it down to the ribs. He came forward quietly and set the pan on the bed, and Rey finally heard her throat began to wheeze like a broken squeak-toy as he unsheathed the knife and held it out, eyes clearly focused on the brave woman holding his phone.

“Put the phone down, and turn around.”

The woman stood there for a long few moments, not moving. Rey watched and prayed, not realizing she was holding her breath. Suddenly, the woman dove for the pan on the bed, and as she grabbed it, Kylo fell upon Rose and yanked her close, scooping her up and holding the kitchen knife to her throat. Rose stared wide-eyed at her ally and cried.

The woman swivelled and scrambled to her feet, and she had it a foot from Rey’s head in a matching threat before Kylo could form a word. Rey stared at him and waited.

Strangely, she wasn’t scared of getting brained, nor the echoing pain she imagined it would cause. She was afraid for the woman, for Rose, and for the other women behind him. She just wanted someone to get out—she just wanted the nightmare to end.

“Put the skillet down, Paige,” snarled Kylo, and he looked acidic and angry—he looked more like her hallucinated Dr. Ren than ever before.

“Put the knife down,” said the woman in a cool, careful voice. Her eyes simmered with rage. They looked at each other in a dual checkmate, frozen in space.

When an irresistible force such as you

Meets an old immovable object like me

You can bet just as sure as you live

Something's gotta give

Something's gotta give

Something's gotta give…

So, the rules of the game had to change.

Kylo looked over at Rey as she hummed, wonder and confusion cutting through his focus. The woman was quick; she shot forward and Kylo ducked down under the skillet and then stabbed her in the right shoulder, and she dropped the skillet at once as Rose collapsed to the floor.

Kylo grabbed Paige and hugged her tight, picking her up as the knife, too, fell to the floor. She screamed and twisted—she bit his shoulder, then twisted again and bit him on the ear. Rey watched as he cursed and fought to get her off—

And she bit the majority of his big, dumb ear off and gave a laugh of indignant victory.

Kylo slammed her into a post of his big, four-poster bed. Rey flinched as Paige’s face twisted with pain—her head sounded like thunder when it hit the wood.

Kylo held her tight and glared at her, looking increasingly confused as blood poured down the left side of him, too. Suddenly, Paige went slack as blood poured down the back of her, and as Rey watched her chest fail to move, Rey began to sob and sputter in near-silence. “I–I didn’t want to kill you,” he said to Paige. “I… I…”

“Muh-zz-er,” Rey snarled, and she needed him to hear her—monster, you’re a fucking monster.

“M–mother?” Kylo guessed after a moment, still holding Paige, still staring at her.

“Mhnster,” she hissed.

Kylo sobered. He straightened and lowered Paige onto the bed, then checked her throat for a pulse. He cursed and hurried to the drawers—Rey watched him gathering medical equipment like he could fix any of this. “Mun-stuh.”

Kylo went white and he glanced at her for a moment, shocked, before shuddering and returning to Paige, frantic. “Monster,” he repeated. “Very nice first word, Rey. You’re correct. But I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Monster,” she said, the sound ever garbled. Her mouth would only move so fast, and her tongue didn’t want to move at all. “Monster. Monster.” Rey refused to stop saying even as her lips ached like she was sucking on a lemon. Kylo tried to restart Paige’s heart, but it didn’t work.

He tried for a long time. When he gave up, he sat on the floor against the door, folded over himself, his head in his hands like a resident who’d lost his first patient.

But he was so far from that that Rey was only more offended to see it. “Monster. Monster. Monster.” Rey’s throat was dry and sore, and each word felt like leather sliding against skin on a hot July afternoon—hot, raw, and chafed.

She never wanted him to forget it.

Eventually, he got up and checked on Rose. He put her on her sybian again, and Rey tried a new word—“Reh-ber.”

“I don’t know that one, sweetheart,” Kylo said, turning on Rose’s sybian.

“Reh-piz.”

“Quick kiss,” Kylo said, voice unengaged for the first time. You’re a Freudian fucking freakazoid.

“Wah-psss-st.”

He echoed her back in perfect, meaningless mimicry as he got to his feet and sadly looked at the door. “Rah-pzzzt.”

“Rey-psst.”

Kylo froze and turned to look at her as he finally understood. “I—”

Rey turned her eyes from him and pointedly to Rose. “Ray-psst. Ray-psst. Ray-psst mhnster.”

He stared at Rey for a long time, looking so sad and lost. She just repeated herself, even as it faded to a crackling whisper. Kylo said, “Stimulation keeps you—”

“Burn. Burn. Burn.” Rey repeated it—stimulation burned. He stared at her, sad. He looked around at the women all around his feet, considering something.

Stupid brain—make him do something—Rey couldn’t have guessed how long it had been since she talked if she tried. “Btz. Bdtz. Bdz. Buds. Bids. Beds.

Beds. Beds. Beds.”

“Beds?” Kylo was reaching for her words now, trying to meet her halfway, and it was a strange and almost dangerous feeling. “Put them in their beds?”

“Ysss,” she gushed. “Kps. Cps. Cups. Cops. Cops.”

Kylo began to transfer the women from their sybians to the cot-sized mattresses he provided for them. Rey continued to tell him to call the cops, but he didn’t, and as he finished up and rubbed his hands together like he’d just got done moving furniture, she switched lanes just as her throat’s fire burned so hot it drew boiling tears from her eyes.

“Ray-psst monster,” she repeated again.

“Come on, little Rey-ven,” Kylo said softly, and Rey didn’t stop repeating as he scooped her up like a baby and carried her.

As he reached the outside air, as if on cue, her voice died. She mouthed the words, anyway, practicing. Rapist, monster. Rapist, monster.

~~~

Ben’s arms were shaking and his knees felt like jelly. He still gently lowered Rey onto the exam table and tied her down just in case before going back to move Paige’s body. For now, he moved her to the bathroom and laid her on the tile, to keep the dolls in the bedroom safe and breathing clean air. Then, he quickly returned to Rey and put her under.

He could feel the concussion in his head. He sat in the chair as Rey slept, and Ben pulled out his phone and called his daughter. She answered—he sighed in relief.

“Daddy,” she purred, sounding smug and distracted.

“Darling,” he said. “I… I need a doctor. One of the dolls who—h-hadn’t been made into a doll… Hit me in the head. Baby, can you get on a plane? I… I don’t think I’m doing too hot.”

Bazine was silent for a moment, and then—“Is it safe now?”

“Yes, dear. I wouldn’t ask you to come somewhere dangerous.”

“A–are you okay? Is R—my favorite doll?”

“Yes, Baz—I didn’t let anything happen to her. I just need to go to the hospital, and I need you to help me… Explain it. I have a concussion. Thinking is… foggy…”

“Okay! I’ll compare flights to drives right now. I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” Bazine sounded like a strange mix of selves—childish and intrigued, Ben knew Baz was probably as happy that he was messed up as she was that Rey was safe. But at the same time, Baz sounded focused and competent—she lost her competency on purpose at times, and one of her favorite mantras was “thinking is hard”, no matter that she was good at it. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”

“We’ll talk when you’re home,” Ben said, hyperaware of some new laws that, with enough unluck, might let this call be heard before a trial. “I love you, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you!”

Ben sat and waited. He considered cleaning himself up, but he knew Baz would prefer to see him bloodied. He chuckled at the thought, leaning back against his seat and looking up at the ceiling.

He was going to need a way to come into a lot of money, fast. Things were going to have to change around here soon.

This? It wasn’t ever going to happen again. He’d make sure of it.

~~~

It was much faster to drive from her dorm in Ann Arbor straight home to Midland than it was to drive to Detroit, fly to Saginaw, and then drive to Midland. Bazine turned her car to self-driving mode and neglected to pay attention to it as it drove her. She’d fucked Snap in exchange for him jailbreaking it—the car was speeding down the highway as Baz carefully did her makeup, wanting to look her best.

She hadn’t seen Rey in so long, and she’d never been able to play with Daddy.

She wondered if Tallie would like to see her all dressed up, too. Bazine grinned despite herself—it wasn’t about Tallie, but Baz had been wondering for more than two months now if her system had worked, or if she’d come home to find… whatever Maggo-Tallie would become after she finally died.

Baz popped her red-painted lips and then saw a doe in the distance. “Oh—fuck me,” she said, picturing herself impaled by an antler, dead and beautiful in a ditch off the road, but she scrambled to keep that from becoming a reality.

I’d make a very pretty doll, her brain told her as she felt her heart pounding in her chest. She watched with more fear than she’d ever felt as the car came to a stop… The grill was inches away from the frozen doe when the car finally stopped.

She gave an exhilarated laugh, and then, she moved on instinct alone as she opened the door and darted out of it. She loved to play whenever she got thrilled like that.

The doe seemed more scared of Bazine than she was of the car. It almost got away.

But it didn’t. It was surprisingly fast; it was surprisingly strong—but so was Bazine. She fished the hunting knife Daddy insisted she keep for “safety purposes”—she bled the venison and tried to cut it up to fit it in the car.

Eventually, after much screaming and thrashing and struggling on Bazine’s part, she wandered towards the treeline with a huff. She hauled a big branch over and, thankful for the lack of traffic, Bazine beat the trunk against the animal until its bones broke and she could stuff the parts into her car.

It took a lot longer than the estimated “hour and three-quarters” that Google had told her at the start. But she got home, and she hung the hunks of meat up in the shed like Daddy had taught her to, and then, she called him and asked where he was.

This is going to be the best weekend ever.

Chapter Text

Daddy didn’t look good.

The white of one of his eyes had gone red, and he didn’t seem able to keep his eyes open long. He’d hum in between words, like he needed a moment to figure out what to say. Baz was pretty angry that it wasn’t safe to take time to play with Daddy, but she was even more angry at the fake doll that had hurt him. Baz asked where she was—if she was tied up—Daddy said she was dead, laying in the upstairs bathroom, and it was an amusing image to Baz.

It only made her more eager to play. She threw plans at Daddy and he picked holes in them until they had a detailed story that seemed medically plausible—he fell down the stairs, and one of the stray dogs he was known to care for had chewed off his ear as he lay unconscious. There were a few little details here and there—they practiced them—then, Daddy got into his car and turned on emergency mode, and it drove him to the hospital.

Baz made sure Rey was comfy—she was asleep, because Daddy was a buzzkill. With that taken care of, Baz made a beeline for the upstairs bathroom. She had a score to settle with Paige, if Baz could remember what Daddy had called that one.

She had made a mess of herself, but in the back of Bazine’s mind, she’d known they did that—dead things. Baz texted Daddy to ask how long he’d be, and he said it would be hours and hours… And that was just perfect for Baz.

She could use the house to herself for a good few hours.

She went into the attic that Bazine had declared long ago was off-limits to Daddy—it was her treehouse, she had said, and no boys were allowed.

There were a lot of bugs in the treehouse. Especially now. Baz quickly slipped on a mask she kept in a drawer, then decided it was best to suit up—her old suit barely fit her, but thanks to bulimia and then tapeworms and then Ozempic, Baz was one of the smallest women she knew.

She was quite proud of it.

She moved closer to Maggo-Tallie, and Baz felt like a field scientist in outer space for her hazmat suit. She listened to the floorboards creak and she ignored her previous projects—she had no interest in them now.

Only Tallie. She should feel so lucky—she had become so important to Baz again. “Oh, Ta-llie. Are you there? Did you miss me?”

Tallie was in a repurposed hyperbaric chamber that hadn’t worked for years, until it had. She was laying on a mesh cot with an ecosystem underneath her, collecting all the little bits that fell down and coming up to scavenge more fuel. Baz walked closer and saw the gag still in place, a funnel in her mouth to drip feed her the processed, brown sludge that Baz (and… unwitting co-conspirators) had designed to be made from the waste the ecosystem made.

It was almost fully self-sufficient. Luckily… Well, luckily, the treehouse was full of bugs.

Maggo-Tallie had undergone quite the transformation. Most of her pelvis peeked through, her flesh eaten away, her legs thin and her feet black and putrid. Her underside was covered in infested sores, from her head to her back and what remained below—infested with bugs and with pus that shone in the light.

It was her face that Baz was frightened to look at. What had once been a nose and then a little red-and-white triangle was now a black-and-white exposure of skull around the feeding funnel.

But it was her eyes that were hard to look at. They flickered around from time to time, indicating life or a very interesting group of bugs in her head—Baz assumed the former, as Tallie had no real reason to die. Baz tapped the glass, and the blue eyes flickered towards her almost unseeingly.

It didn’t look like she recognized Baz. It was a total bummer. “I guess you probably want to die now, huh? I pretty much figured out I could keep you here until they got to the really important organs. I figured I’d use you in one more game and then let you go home. Okay?”

Maggo-Tallie didn’t seem to understand, and to Bazine’s surprise, she only cared a little. She shrugged it off and got to work—it was time to go through the painstaking process of raising Paige up with ropes.

That took even longer than the deer had.

~~~

Ben returned home about an hour before the sun would rise. He tiredly wandered into the house, calling out to his daughter—no reply. He went from room to room—floor to floor—and he was lingering by the hatch to the attic when movement outside the window caught his attention. He walked closer to it and peered out—to his surprise, Bazine had dug a deep hole, right in the backyard.

To his sudden and utter shock… It seemed like there were two bodies. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Bazine,” he muttered, and he was moving before his brain could process the stakes. “What have you done now?”

He should have known she had strange intentions when she’d hurried him to the hospital instead of demanding he allow her to do something heinous to him—like the time he’d sliced his shin open in Lake Huron on vacation one summer, and Bazine had demanded to piss on the open wound.

It had burned. She had been thrilled, especially when he snarled curses to try and cope with it. She was a very strange girl—usually, all he wanted was to make her happy.

But she wasn’t allowed to go around murdering people. Not even dolls. But that was alright—he had the perfect solution. Never again, Baz.

He got outside and Baz froze, turning to look up at him and finally looking like a nearly-twenty year old woman. He held up his hands in truce: “I saw how many dolls there are. It’s alright. You did good, digging the hole. Good girl.”

Bazine got a creeping grin, but suspicion shot into her eyes like an octopus’ ink. “Did you see?” she asked, and there was a familiar, worrisome lilt to her voice.

Ben walked closer to look, and he almost didn’t believe what he saw—he came closer still, until he could see it all, and he looked down at the two dolls that Bazine had posed obscenely—faces buried in between one another’s legs.

Paige had much more leg left than… The old body beside her. He realized where all the damn flies had been coming from as he saw how skeletonized one was. “Bazine… I would have taken care of this months ago if you’d told me.”

He felt troubled, but it wasn’t going to be an issue now. He could see the path before him so clearly. “I know,” Baz said. “I wasn’t done with her yet.”

Ben studied the hazmat suit she wore that he hadn’t known she had. “I hope you’re safe. Dead bodies are dangerous.”

Baz gave a demented little giggle as she covered the simple pine box he kept a few of on-hand ever since the experiments had gotten riskier again. “‘Safe’. Sure. Are you going to help me bury these bitches, or stand there, looking sleepy?”

Ben knew he ought to rest, but he wasn’t the type of man to leave Baz to do this on her own. He went to the shed and grabbed a shovel, and he noticed chunks of fresh venison still draining. With a tight frown, he went out and began to pick up dirt to drop over the bodies.

Baz had left quite a bit of stuff in there. Ben asked about it, but she seemed frustrated with the distraction, so they just worked together to hide their sins until long after the sun had risen. He told her to go inside, get out of “that thing”, and to wait in the bathroom—they’d bathe together, he said.

He had other plans. He went inside to get them ready as Baz eagerly ran off to tuck her things away.

~~~

Bazine went to the bathroom—she just made a pit-stop while Daddy fucked off to do whatever it was he was doing. She picked up Rey—barely larger than Bazine, especially since she’d come home earlier that year—and carried her up to the bath. Considering just how fucking hard it was to dig and bury a grave, and the way Baz was tired and exhausted, she’d say she fucking earned a fully joint bath—a family bath.

Rey woke up from the stimulant agent Bazine had given her just as she was set in the tub on the doll stand that worked best in the bath. Baz climbed into the hot water beside her sister doll, then wrapped her arms around Rey and nuzzled, kissing. “I hope Daddy’s been taking good care of you, Rey-by.”

“Nhh,” Rey groaned—Baz blinked in surprise and pulled back. She ogled her doll, heart pounding, and studied Rey.

She looked as fiery as she always did nowadays, but her face looked… just a little too mobile. Bazine was lost in anticipation, shock, and fascination as Rey said, “No. No.”

“You can talk,” Baz whispered in awe.

“Taw. Tog. Talk.”

Baz reached forward to brush fingers over Rey’s beautiful mouth. She had come in for fillers, but Baz had told Daddy not to change her face—it was too perfect. Everything about Rey was too perfect. Bazine pressed reverent kisses into Rey’s throat, and then, the door opened. “My dolly talks,” Baz gushed. “Did you do her surgery already? I told you to warn me first! It doesn’t work that well—”

“She hasn’t had that procedure,” Daddy said. “She’s… special. In more ways than we expected. I wanted another two or three practice rounds before cutting Rey open again—it wasn’t all that long since the last time I went poking around in there, and I want to either let her heal more, or get much more experience with it. Preferably, both.”

Boring, boo, blah-blah-blah. “Of course she’s special,” Baz said when he finally shut up. She kissed Rey’s cheek and said, “She’s the only real doll in the whole wide world, and she’s the very best.”

“Mmm,” Daddy hummed. “She is the best, isn’t she?”

“Ray-psst mon-strrr,” Rey said. Baz blinked, then giggled. She surged eagerly into Rey, rubbing their naked bodies together.

“You’re so smart! Listen to you. So resourceful with that talented little tongue, Rey-by.”

“Ray-pssts. Monstrrrs.”

“That’s right baby. We’re your rapists! We’re monsters. You are the smartest doll in the world, too, aren’t you?” Baz was pleased. She liked this a lot—Rey could only say a little at a time, and it made her sound dumb or slow.

It made Baz really wet. Really, really wet.

“Eight,” said Rey, her voice guttural. “Hate. Hate. Hate.”

Baz gave a little giggle even as her stomach fell. “Aw, that’s okay. I love you, anyway, sweet sister.”

Rey was a very vocal doll. Daddy looked so sad about the things Rey said, but he didn’t say much as he started getting the Barbie Mermaid shampoo ready. “Who gets their hair washed first, Rey?”

Rey stopped talking and glared at him, hatred in her pretty, hazel eyes. Baz found that she liked angry Rey a lot more than she’d have anticipated. “She’s so spicy now. I like it.”

Rey ignored Baz; it burned even as Baz knew it was probably on purpose. After all, Rey was the smartest girl in the world, and she’d lived with Baz for months. Baz pressed a kiss into Rey’s cheek.

“Who’s first?” Daddy asked sadly.

He was annoying. Baz turned to eye him suspiciously—she couldn’t piece together why he was so gloomy, and she always knew why Ben was acting and feeling however he was at any given moment. He always made perfect sense to her—boys usually did, and Daddy was more upfront than most of them. “Rey.”

Daddy started washing Rey’s hair and Baz grabbed a mermaid doll and made it swim in the water atop Rey’s lap. She’d give anything to be a mermaid at sea with Rey and Daddy—the ocean so big and scary that neither would ever dare leave her. “I love you, Rey. I hope you forgive me. I understand if you don’t.”

“Isault,” Rey said. “Izult. His-salt. Hisvalt.” Rey got closer and closer to whatever she meant as Daddy sweetly scrubbed her scalp. “His fault. His fault. His fault.”

Daddy froze just a split second before Baz understood—she blames him. Bazine laughed, sudden and stark. Ben’s brow furrowed and his frown got deep and heavy, eyes haunted. He just kept washing as Bazine fell into Rey’s shoulder.

“Pedo. Pedo. Pedo. Pedo…” Rey repeated, and Ben turned red and angry. Baz laughed so hard she was snorting, and she didn’t care, because it was just Ben and Rey.

Baz adored her sister-parrot-doll.

“I’m not a pedophile,” Daddy said, but Baz’s laughter turned to snickering.

“He’s lying,” Baz whispered in Rey’s ear. Daddy scowled at Bazine; Baz winked at him.

“I didn’t touch you until you asked me to,” he defended.

“But did you think about it?” Baz purred.

Ben didn’t say anything. He was stiff and stone cold as he filled up the big Ariel cup, tipped Rey’s head back, and started rinsing away the soap. “She lost her virginity when she raped me. I didn’t rape her.”

Bazine blew him a kiss. “You loved it so much, Daddy.”

Ben didn’t react—not that Baz could see. She giggled and pressed sweet kisses into Rey. “You’re so quiet, sissy. Sing for me.”

“Cnt,” Rey said once, and then, she stopped talking. Daddy washed Bazine’s hair next, his big fingers so soft and thorough.

“I used to try and see if I could tempt him to rape me first. But it didn’t work—not ‘cause he didn’t want to. I thought he was so annoying. It didn’t make any sense to me.”

Ben sighed. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t… I don’t think I groomed her.”

Bazine pictured late nights when Daddy let her curl up in his bed, and his hands would wander—never anywhere sexual, not until after she’d played with and provoked him a bit. But over the outside of her thigh… her hips… her ribs… Baz told Rey about how that had felt so nice, and when she’d finally learned what sex was, she’d known she wanted to do it with Daddy right away.

It had taken a few years, but she’d gotten there in the end. “And now we’re here,” Baz said, pinching Rey’s nipple in one hand and her plump ass in the other. Rey’s lip curled. “Stip. Step.”

“Stop! Bah-doom-boom,” Baz said—to the tune of ‘stink! Stank! Stunk!’ in the Grinch song. You’re a rotter, Mr. Grinch. An image of Maggo-Tallie in her little ecosystem with Paige flashed in her mind.

Baz wondered how long Tallie would live. She’d tried to let air come in through the pipes, but she wondered what would happen if it rained—she wondered if it would rain soon.

She wondered if it would get cold enough at night that Tallie would die soon. She wondered if the ecosystem was less self-sustaining than it had been in the treehouse. Bazine wondered a lot of things; she intended to dig her up after the school year ended and try to see if she could tell.

In a perfect world, Tallie would still be alive. In a perfect world, she would be a living time capsule for Bazine to dig up once or twice a year and check on—like a sourdough starter or a truffle farm or something.

Daddy was washing Rey’s body when Baz asked him to tell her about what happened. Ben sighed and told the story of the doll disappearing into the basement, finding a piece of wood, and bonking him upside the head like the big doof he was. Baz grinned as she imagined it—she’d have to watch the security footage later.

Daddy was out for a while, he said. Paige went upstairs to the dolls—

“Sister,” Rey said, voice sad. Baz looked over, her heart stopping. “Rose.”

With two words, Bazine’s blood went cold, and she decided that she hated Rose—I am your sister. Rose is no one’s sister.

Rose is a corpse, just like her sister.

“She had my phone. She… she almost got out. She almost had the police here. We… we need to find a new place to live. We need to start being more careful.”

Bazine thought about that. “Okay,” she said with a shrug. “Let’s go closer to Detroit this time. So you’re not so far away when I’m at school.”

Ben’s eye twitched—Baz noted it, almost concerned. “Whatever my baby wants,” he said softly, his voice strained.

Strange.

Daddy rinsed Rey’s body clean of soap, then started to wash Bazine. “Is the house going to be big?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m working on it, sweetheart. I don’t know exactly what or where yet, alright? We’ll talk about it some other time. We need to get things settled.”

Baz sighed. “Okay. Can I play with your ear tomorrow?”

Daddy’s jaw set. “My body is yours, Bazzie. And yours is mine.”

Baz had said that to him after she’d raped him—it had been a big part in getting him to fuck her afterwards. “That’s right, Daddy. We belong to each other—and Rey, too.”

“Kross. Gross. Gross.”

Baz giggled. She got up onto her knees as Daddy scrubbed her—she stuck her fingers down her throat, and in order to get Rey’s newly mobile mouth to stay open long enough to baby-bird catch Bazine’s mess, Baz had to shove fingers from her other hand down Rey’s throat.

“Bazine,” Ben snarled, but Baz had made Rey swallow before he could yank Baz away. He all but threw her on the bathroom tile—it was surprising—she slipped and hit her head. It hurt, but as she sat there and waited for her head to stop banging like a gong, she heard Daddy curse and felt him drag her around—reposition her.

He spanked her hard several times, until Bazine’s body recovered enough to surge away. Then, however, she felt a prick in her hip, and she looked down to see him inject something into her.

“I tried to have one fucking nice bath with you,” he snarled. “As a send off, and here you are acting like a fucking—”

He went on, but Bazine’s brain locked in—as a send off. She was so shocked for a moment she just stared at him and felt the breath sucked from her chest—

He flipped a switch somewhere inside of her. She flung up onto her hands and knees—her feet—

He grabbed her. It was a haze of adrenaline, terror, and need as she tried to run for the door. Ben was big, though, and he was strong…

Baz faded into sleep all while he held her soundly and waited for the struggle to end.

~~~

Rey was laid in Ben’s bed, the other women laying on their beds somewhere behind her back. She was staring at the ground, and she could feel a cold, icy scalpel being dragged across her scalp and jabbed into her brain—Dr. Ren was here in the room with her, and she could hear the sickening sounds of her flesh and brain as he ‘worked’.

If it weren’t for the hallucination, she’d still be laugh-crying about what she knew was happening to Bazine—she pictured it every once in a while. She didn’t know what the surgery looked like, but she knew none of the others seemed to have any scars, and the dead women Ben took away often had the backs of their heads wrapped up.

One of them had been scalped. Her scalp and its attached hair had fallen off the metal tray he’d pushed towards the barn, and Rey had stared at it in the hallway in horror.

He made wigs out of their hair. Rey tried not to think about all the wigs Baz had. Rey tried not to picture Bazine wearing Rey’s scalp as a wig.

Bazine… wasn’t the problem anymore.

She pictured Kylo scalping her and carefully setting her skin to the side. He didn’t shave any of their heads; Rey imagined he was meticulous about keeping the hairs away, brushing them to the side and clipping them away.

There were two ways she pictured it happening: a butcher’s chop-shop job, or they-did-surgery-on-a-grape levels of precision. The two scenes flashed back and forth in Rey’s head as Dr. Ren stabbed and sliced at Rey’s own head.

I guess you can be my sister now. Crazy bitch.

Rey also pictured Bazine sitting still, frozen forever, eyes flickering and watering. It made her sick to her stomach—it made her skin crawl. It was awful—and at the same time—Rey’s twisted brain whispered, if you were going to do it, it should have only been her. No one else.

Rey figured he only made dolls for her sake—it didn’t occur to her that he might have made them before, too.

Eventually—long before Ben had finished his work—sleep came for Rey again.

Chapter Text

Ben gazed at his handiwork when, at long last, everything was done. He missed Bazine terribly—the surgery was a lot to recover from, and she was the first doll made with the voicebox procedure on the first go-around.

But he was familiar with Baz and the intricacies of her body. She was a strange girl—he remembered when she had gone on a hunger-strike and said she’d starve herself to death if he didn’t cut her brain open while she was awake, “so she could see how it felt”.

His girl was never good at empathy. She didn’t get it until it was her. Maybe, he should have thought to do this sooner.

Baz was sitting, already propped up on a doll stand—one of her own, since Rey continually insisted that his stands “burned” in some way. He usually left them alone to wake up with dignity—but he knew Bazine… preferred curation. She was beautiful in a girly, lacy negligee, pink and precious just like her. He’d painted her nails; he’d done her hair in intricate braids; he had carefully done her makeup.

Now, he was thankful she’d insisted he learn the moment she hit her teen years. It did come in handy.

She opened her eyes a little late. They were groggy, but she was a quick woman—soon, they flicked briefly around the room and settled on the mirror he had set her up in front of before injecting the stimulating agent to wake her up.

She stared at herself for a long, long time. He said, “Can you talk?”

She didn’t. Her eyes got wide and scared—he was pretty sure she couldn’t. He cleared his throat and got up, then walked closer to her. He looked at their reflection in the mirror as his hands stroked along her back.

“Don’t worry. You’re not supposed to be able to yet—let’s see about…” Ben put his finger on the pink button he’d installed in her ribcage—she had one in the front and one in the back, and both of those could activate and deactivate her brain’s access to her vocal cords and tongue. He pressed it and listened to the crisp ‘click’. “Now. Can you talk?”

“—Oh, my God,” she whispered, voice soft and crackly from her time asleep, in recovery. She looked stunned—it was surprising, and fascinating, to see.

She almost didn’t look like Bazine. For some reason, his finger clicked her button again, and her mouth got stiff. She closed it slowly and stared at him, looking scared and small—like she had been when she was seven and had earned a spanking.

Like she was terrified of and betrayed by him.

He stroked fingers through her hair, feeling sad. “I told you. You’re not allowed to be mean to your sister. So, now… You can’t be.”

Tears welled in Bazine’s eyes and then ran down her cheeks—it shouldn’t have been difficult for her. Ben apologized lightly, assured her that he could turn her limbs on and off “depending on how well she behaved”, and started the first cranial nerve exam to see how she was doing.

Exactly as intended, it seemed. He swelled with pride and victory. “You’re in tip-top shape, love. Very impressive, as always.”

Ben picked her up and carried her upstairs eventually, then into the house. He set Bazine up in the living room facing the television—in the past few weeks, Rey had stressed the importance of a much more successful stimulation than… his idea. Now, he didn’t leave them alone in the silence—he made sure they had the television to keep them company. He went upstairs to get Rey, wondering if she’d be excited.

Next, he’d install her buttons. Soon, she’d be able to talk properly and move around, too—but first, it was nearly time to move. He’d made enough money between extra work and selling some of the dolls—Baz didn’t need them, and soon, it would be easy enough to make more every so often. They were going to go far, far away, where no one could or would bother them. He’d bought a bunker and had it completely remodelled, and in a few days, it would be ready to go. He’d probably fix Rose up first—he was less familiar with Rey’s brain than Bazine’s, and some extra experience before cracking open his newer daughter would likely be quite the game-changer.

Feeling calm and confident, he set Rey up next to Bazine. “Evil man,” Rey accused. “Traitor.”

She repeated those three words, but Ben had gotten used to her song. He kissed them both on the cheek. “I’m going to go get lunch, and then, we’re going to see about putting Bazine’s buttons to good use. Alright, girlies?”

“Loser. Loser. Loser.”

Ben went into the kitchen to make sandwiches.

~~~

Rey sat there, both she and Baz placed carefully to still be able to see each other and the television. Bazine’s yellow-brown eyes flicked back and forth, wide and scared and sad, and Rey would be lying if she didn’t feel the ice-cold chill of glee.

Do you see what you damned me to, you dumb fucking bitch? Do you still think this is a fucking game? But it was immediately overpowered as slow tears began to stream down Bazine’s perfect cheeks.

She has buttons. Maybe he’ll push them. Maybe she can run—maybe she will, now that he broke her, too. “Tag,” Rey said. “Yerrit. You’re it. Tag, you’re it.”

Baz’s eyes changed. She was laugh-crying now. She shook a little in place as her breathing changed.

Kylo returned eventually, and he sat on the ground with four cut-up sandwiches and a bag of chips. He force-fed Rey, using his big hands to snap her jaw shut and going slow—opening up her lips every once in a while to peer in—and with each bite, she was terrified he was going to make her bite her lip.

Baz did all the time. On accident and on purpose. Rey could still feel the scar from when Kylo had had to sew the tip of Rey’s tongue back on after Baz had accidentally made her bite it off during dinner.

She didn’t like to think about it.

After Rey had been fed half a sandwich, Kylo reached out and pressed two pink buttons embedded in Bazine’s body—one at the base of her sternum, and the other underneath the left corner of her jaw.

It was like he’d unlocked a phone. Her face fell into movement like she’d been trying to move the whole time—she sucked in a sharper, jagged breath, and as Kylo picked up another sandwich, she said, “Daddy, make it stop.”

“You’ll be able to move like a real girl,” he said casually, moving the sandwich closer. “The minute you earn it. You’ve been awfully mean, haven’t you?”

Baz began to sob. She looked really wrecked—more betrayed now than scared, like everything ever had been a lie. It was harder for Rey to sympathize with her for that.

Rey had never forgiven Baz for sending her here, and she never, ever would. “Traitor,” Rey still said on her behalf. “Not Daddy. Not Daddy. Not—”

Ben suddenly backhanded Rey so hard she fell over, and pain seared across her face as the doll stand dug angrily into her hip in a way that would surely bruise. “Don’t hit her!” Baz shrieked.

“That’s rich, Bitchy Bird,” he said softly.

“Evil,” Rey said, and she echoed it over and over again. Talking only hurt a little now, and she was thankful for it.

Kylo sat Rey back up and then pushed the sandwich into Bazine’s mouth. She chewed it and cried, looking at him like a kicked puppy who desperately wanted to forgive their owner and go back to normal. Again, Rey sat in dissonance, two emotions warring in her chest.

Revenge had never felt so bad before.

Lunch took a long time, and then, Kylo took care of the dishes. He left Bazine’s mouth working, and she cried the whole time he was gone, seemingly only able to move her face and speak—she didn’t even turn her head. “Pain?” Rey asked.

“No,” Baz said. “Does it hurt you?”

Rey laughed dryly, and it stung. She didn’t bother dignifying that question with words—their situations were quite different. Baz looked miserable as she watched Mr. Rogers’ taking his loafers off at the door. “I’m scared.”

Pussy. “No kidding.”

Kylo came back and sat behind Baz, pulling her back and holding her close. She was absolutely pathetic as she grovelled and wagered, but he would shoot her down and gently redirect her to the television. Baz wept and shivered there in his lap, until Rey couldn’t help but be mean, too.

“Shut up.”

“Rey—you don’t need to be rude,” Kylo said.

“Eat shit,” Rey said, repeating it a few times until it sounded right. He scowled at her like a father at a petulant child, and she hated him another ounce more.

Baz sobbed harder and stopped talking. Rey’s chest burned, but she refused to think about it—she refused to feel bad. She stared at the television and tried to enjoy an ancient program meant explicitly for children. Eventually, Kylo carried them upstairs to Bazine’s room, one on each of his hips.

Old-ass, buff-ass piece of shit. Rey wanted to watch him wither into a raisin and rot in his diaper. Maggo-Ky.

Rey wanted to commit elder abuse against this man. She pictured it vividly in her mind—she felt a little crazier each and every day. She was picturing herself as a free-living button-woman who kept him rotting in a room, and trained Bazine to behave like a puppy who would never quite understand why she wasn’t supposed to eat her owner’s plate, but could definitely be taught not to, when he set both of them on Bazine’s bed.

“Where are all of my dollies?” Baz demanded, shrill and shaky. “They’re gone! Where are my dolls?”

“Some of them are in my room—I’ve been taking care of them. You’re not in any shape to do it right now, are you, dear?”

“Turn my limbs back on, Daddy—”

Kylo turned off Bazine’s voice with the button at the base of her sternum, but her mouth still moved and her breath made the words almost but not quite audible. Rey quickly noted that—under the jaw to the left for the face, and the sternum for voice. “When you prove you can behave yourself, Bazine. Some of your dolls are in my room, dear, but only the ones you took care of. I sold the rest so we can move into our forever home.”

Bazine was not happy, but Rey was too busy trying not to throw up at his words. She squeezed her eyes shut as images of the other women in awful, awful situations popped into her head—

He said he sold them. He had human trafficked them. Rey sobbed softly as Bazine failed to shriek, tears running down her face, her eyes bug-eyed and truly crazed.

“We can make more. I told you, you need to take better care of them. Hopefully, they’ll go to someone who will actually bother to take care of that.”

If he believed that, he was crazier than Bazine. Rey wanted to bite his finger off as he reached over and wiped away her snot and tears. Every time he so much as looked at her, it was an affront to her very soul. “Evil,” she whispered.

“Mmm,” he said. He sounded dubious, and so, she kept repeating it. To Rey’s anger—and surprise—he got up, opened Bazine’s drawer, and grabbed a ball gag. He held it up inches from Rey’s eyes. “Keep your words nice, Rey, or we can have a time-out from words. Rose is going to get her voice next—you’re right after her. And for you, that comes with a real off-switch, too.”

“Coward,” Rey said, clearer than she’d expected. She glared as he put the ball gag in her mouth and secured it.

“Rose is not our family,” Baz said—insistent and seemingly half-panicked at the idea.

Kylo glanced at Baz. “I’m not sure why you don’t like her. I think Rey does. Should we keep her, or sell her?”

“Keep,” Rey said, muffled against the silicone ball in her mouth. Kylo turned Bazine’s voice back on.

“Kill her,” Baz said urgently.

Kylo sighed. “Maybe I should sell her.”

Rey fought with all her might to scream and refute.

“I don’t like her! I didn’t ask for her!” Bazine argued.

“Rey’s asking for her,” Ben said. “Rey is your sister. She deserves dolls, too.”

Bazine sobbed and begged. Kylo looked conflicted. He sighed and said he’d think about it—maybe, he’d do the surgery first and ask her. Rey gave up the fight, exhausted. Her throat was burning now, and her jaw ached from widening around the gag.

“Anyway,” he said softly, picking lint off of his pajama pants. “I just brought you girls here for some bonding time. I… I hope we can find some sort of normal soon. I love you both terribly.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” Bazine whined. “Please, make it stop. Please—make Rey move, too—please, let me move. Please, let me move.”

He eyed her sadly. “It’s not so bad, remember? We’ve talked about it before—”

“I’m so scared,” she sobbed, voice guttural and wrecked. Ben blinked, looking shocked as Bazine’s face twisted with horror and despair. “I wanna be a person again. I’ll be a good girl, I swear.”

“You’re a person, Bazine,” Kylo said softly, his voice said. “All of your dolls are people. I wanted you to understand that.”

“No,” Baz sobbed. “This isn’t what being a person feels like. You’re wrong.”

Rey thought they were both right. She stared into space, feeling desolate.

“Rey?” Kylo turned to her, then took her gag out again. “Are you a person?”

Rey closed her eyes. “La la-la-la-la, la la-la-la-la, la la la-la-la-la… Sing of good things, not bad… ooh, wooh, ooh, wooh… Sing of happy, not sad…” Rey’s voice was garbled and strange, but now, she never lost the melody.

Kylo sighed. He looked over at Bazine, then kissed her nose. “It’s time for sex.”

Bazine gave a deranged little chuckle. “What if I said no?” she asked, and there was a twinkle in her eye that bothered Rey—as if Bazine was alright with… this part of it.

Like she liked it. Like this part was a game to her even on this end. It made Rey whimper as ice-cold terror flooded her.

“I’d turn off your voice,” Kylo said in a whisper. Rey watched through blurry tears as he got up and started to take his clothes off.

“You’re a rapist. You’re raping me,” Bazine said. She said it like she couldn’t quite process it—like it didn’t quite make sense. The sky is falling in chunks, like broken glass down to earth—I can see it—that shouldn’t be possible, but there it is… Falling…

“Yes, Bazine. I’m going to rape you. I’m going to rape Rey, too. Who do our bodies belong to?”

Bazine laughed again. Rey retreated into her mind, and suddenly, everything was different—

She liked it when she could fall into these on purpose. Better yet, this one was nice.

~~~

Bazine felt oddly calm as Daddy’s hard cock came into view and Rey started to hum instead of sing. This was about the only part of being a doll that seemed all that appealing to Baz, and for all their roleplays, none of the things they’d tried had gotten her body to sit completely limp like it was now.

“I–I’m happy you’re raping us,” Baz whispered, feeling a thrill to even admit it—even though she knew Daddy already knew how she felt, it was different now that he was gonna do it.

He looked so much darker, taller, bigger, badder. He eyed her like the wolf instead of the lumberjack, and Baz had always desperately, desperately wanted to be Little Red. “Of course you are,” he said softly. “It makes so much sense, Bazine—you were always meant to be a doll. You need an off-switch. You’re out of control—and you’re so perfect and soft like this.”

Her heart pounded, offended, as her belly stirred. Her cunt tried to clench but its muscles were out of commission, and it felt like such a strange sensation that only made her needier. Bazine’s skin tingled as she wondered if this was how Rey’s pussy felt now. “I–I–I—”

“Don’t argue,” he warned, authoritative, and Baz whimpered, turned on and afraid. He moved closer and started to toy with Bazine’s nipples through the pink lace he’d dressed her in. “Rey, darling—are you still amongst the living?”

Rey didn’t respond, and her humming didn’t pause. I said a storm’s brewin’ babe—I ain’t got time to sit and pray. Because this life don’t come free—I got what’s mine comin’ to me! It was one of the weird songs she’d liked and played a lot back in college. Daddy whispered in Bazine’s ear, “She’s a dreamer. I had to sell the dolls—you two need quite the extravagant exhibit. I… I don’t think Rey’s been very comfortable. We’re going to fix things around here.” When Daddy finished speaking, he gently kissed Bazine’s button, turning her face off, and then kissed it more hungrily, unfreezing her again.

She whimpered. “Th-that was really ho—”

He did it again. After a while he pulled back, leaving her frozen, and then took her off her stand and laid her down. He did the same with Rey, then opened up her blood-red teddy and stroked a hand through her folds. Baz noticed he’d shaved off most of her hair—there was a teddy-bear shaped patch of short hair, and Baz would have cooed if she could do anything other than move her eyes.

And now, it was really, really hot.

Daddy spread Baz’s legs with his other hand and reached in to stroke her, too—her eyes fluttered as he caressed her clitoris. “You’re such a fucking whore. Do you hear how wet you are already?”

She could. Her body felt so good as he toyed with it. She felt her breath hitch just a bit as he slipped two fingers in each of her holes at the same time.

“You’ve fucked your last college boy now, Baz. I can’t believe you’re still this fucking loose.”

Baz tensed as she realized—my entire life is over. No college; no fashion design; no boyfriends; no girlfriends… Tears began to pour quickly and she found herself needing to shake and shiver and sob—only to find herself frozen.

Repressed. Stuck in the pain and the horror without release.

She couldn’t even hyperventilate. Her breathing stayed consistent.

“Did you like cucking me that much?” Ben asked, voice dry and wounded. Baz felt him gather her dew and saw absently as he smeared it on Rey’s petals.

She felt like she was dying.

“There you go, Rey. Doesn’t that feel nice? It’s like her cunt is inside of yours.”

I’m not dead yet—I’m not dead yet—I’m not dead yet—I’m not dead yet—Rey hummed.

Suddenly, Bazine wondered what Tallie must have felt like. What she must feel like now. It hadn’t been long enough—she was definitely still alive. Suddenly… even as she didn’t want to let it…

Suddenly, it bothered Baz that she was still alive. Like that. It didn’t approach shame—she didn’t regret it… She tried to speak, but he had turned her voice and face off. She sat there, paralyzed, as he grabbed hold of Bazine, picked her up, and set her face-down on top of Rey. He posed them carefully in a tight embrace, using rope to tie them together. They stared into one another’s eyes, close enough that each blink was a butterfly kiss. Rey was spacing out, and it was freakish to see another person so close up—it was almost soothing to Bazine.

“Hold still,” Ben said, a surprisingly sadistic joke in his voice. “You two are picture perfect. I’d leave you like that if I could.”

You could. Bazine would have if she’d had that thought. She felt cold and unmoored as Daddy thrust his dick in between her body and Rey’s, rubbing over both of their clits.

“Fuck. I love you so much. How pretty you two would be, conjoined…”

Baz whined, but it didn’t make a sound. Panic overtook her then and tears fell—Rey’s eyes squeezed shut after one fell right into her open eye, and Baz stared at nothing but blurry skin as Ben pushed his dick into her asshole without lube—she was loose, and looser still thanks to her surgery. It didn’t hurt but it felt wrong, and she had no way to ask him to stop. He thrusted in and out of her until she felt raw—eventually, it felt a little moist. Eventually, he started spitting and continuing. But she was raw back there and it felt so off as he raped her there.

“I’ll admit,” he said softly, voice hazy with lust. “I like it when you don’t talk. It’s peaceful.”

Do you even like me, you fucking bastard? He fucked her for a while, and then… he stopped. Baz watched him grab lube, lather himself up—she felt the shaking of bodies, and when he began to thrust, she gathered that he’d started fucking Rey in the ass.

Her heart throbbed and panged in tandem with her asshole.

Baz heard him finish inside of Rey, and then, he pulled out and draped himself over Bazine’s back and held them for a while. Bazine was sad and lonely and empty—and so was her cunt—when he finally stood back up. She watched him walk to her nightstand, then pull out an oversized, double-sided dildo. She was still nervous rather than relieved as he walked over. He set it on the bed, then gathered a few other things—

He put a wand in between their clitorises and turned it on high. He slipped a side of the pink dildo into each of them, filling them both up and then tying it into place. Somewhere along the line, Rey stopped humming. Then, he gave them each a butt plug—again, Rey got lube, and Baz didn’t.

Her heart was tired from all the aching. She was still too shocked about it to be angry just yet—it didn’t make sense. It didn’t clock with the way things used to be—it didn’t mesh with the way they were supposed to be now. He posed them so that they were kissing—their tongues all but tied together.

“Alright, sweet dolls,” he said, grabbing the remote. “Daddy’s going to go work on Rose’s voice and buttons now. Rey—do you want Buffy or Gilmore Girls?”

“Buh-hee,” Rey said after a moment, muffled and strained.

Without so much as turning Bazine’s face back on, Ben said “Goodbye, my beauties. I love you,” and left them there like that.

Chapter Text

Bazine adapted much, much more quickly than Ben had been expecting. He had left them in their new playroom as he had finished bringing all of their personal belongings to the bunker, and when he got back, Baz was sitting at the colorful table, suckling happily on her pacifier as she fed Rey animal crackers for snacktime.

“My good girls,” he said, walking in. Bazine turned, her pigtails swaying as she did—she had been quite taken with DDLG as of late. She sat in a girly onesie, and she refused to exist without her binky necklace. Baz grinned around it now, then looked back at her sister to help her swallow.

Rey glared at him. She had been tense all day—she’d been crying when he’d left them here. “Traitor,” she accused him. “Took her back. Give me. Mine.”

Rey’s voice was still twisted, but he’d gotten better at putting the pieces together quickly. “Bazine was mine first,” he told her calmly. He ruffled her hair—he had just cut it at Bazine’s prompting, and it was a cute bob around her beautiful face. “And now you are, too.”

“Freak.”

He chuckled at that one. “You both just like to take turns being ‘the good one’, don’t you?”

Baz giggled at that. Rey glowered at her as she stuffed another animal cracker into her mouth—“Dry,” she complained again.

Baz made her chew, anyway. Kylo walked closer and started to pet their heads. “Rey—do you want a different snack?”

Rey scowled at the bowl of pink, frosted animal crackers. She didn’t like playing along with these freaks. “Yes,” she grumbled.

“Use your manners,” Kylo tutted.

Eat shit and die. “Please.”

Baz shrugged and popped one into her own mouth as Kylo went to the dumb, childish pantry in their dumb, colorful room. “Applesauce?”

Rey made a face. “Slimy.” It didn’t sound right to Rey’s ears, but Kylo nodded like he knew what she’d said.

“Graham crackers?”

Dumb fucking shit-for-brains. “Dry.”

It took a while. He came back with chocolate-covered raisins and sat down, and then, he reached out and started pressing Bazine’s buttons—there was a master switch for all four limbs on the back of her neck. Baz’s face instantly twisted with fear. “Da—”

Ben turned off her voice with the button on her sternum. “We’ll talk some more at dinner, dear. I have a special new friend to introduce you both to, and I don’t want you acting up today because of it. Do you understand?”

Looking miserable and ever-betrayed, Baz gave a morose nod.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

He wouldn’t unlock her legs again for a while if she wasn’t—he’d already proven that. Bazine gave another miserable nod, and then, Kylo pressed a kiss into her jaw button and turned off her face. He positioned them amongst the other women—on simple doll stands facing the television. There was an animal documentary on, and like someone had cast a spell on her, Rey’s personhood fell away and she became a pair of eyes once more—calm and comfortable and not increasingly desperate to crawl out of her own body with every passing minute.

“You two hang tight,” Kylo said, and then, he left.

~~~

Ben picked Rose up and put her in the stroller. Her purple buttons were turned off—he walked forward with her in silence, trying not to be anxious about what might happen—not even tonight.

Tomorrow. Next week. All of the time sweet Rey is going to need to recover. He tried to push it from his brain, but he was growing increasingly paranoid that Bazine was going to go rogue any day now. Whenever he left the house, he was afraid he’d come back to find Rey and Baz hiding under beds and in closets with knives and cast iron skillets, raining down on him like the brides of Dracula chasing their revenge.

He brought Rose into the playroom and he picked her up and set her on the ground—she was still in her hospital gown. He looked down to see her eyes were dark and deep, like a gouge of a river whose waters moved faster under the surface than on it. He started to take off her hospital gown, and those dark eyes moved towards him, full of hate.

It… had lost his charm since he realized how upset with him the dolls often were. He sighed softly—some of them were never angry. Tallie had been so sweet.

She’s woken up before he could start working on her, and she’d been so soft and cute as she’d asked him so nicely to let her go—or to make Bazine be nice to her. He’d said “she’s your best friend—sure, best friends fight, but everything’s gonna be alright now.”

He had failed Tallie. When they’d moved, he’d dug up the bodies… And found Bazine’s demented little contraption. Tallie had been more dead than alive—but her brain worked, her heart worked, and her organs… almost worked. There were bugs embedded in her torso, killing her slowly.

He hadn’t hesitated to put her out of her misery, but he’d been sick for hours and hours before he’d been able to take care of their bodies. And now… Well, now he didn’t ever want to let her up and walk around.

He couldn’t go five minutes without checking the camera and making sure Bazine wasn’t shitting in Rey’s mouth or something heinous like that. He didn’t understand her—he couldn’t see a reason she’d have done what she did to Tallie other than pure evil, pure hate.

And still… Rey preferred her to him. He tried not to feel jealous about it, but he did. When Rose was bare, he pulled a diaper onto her and wrapped her into a lavender dress—it was her favorite color, she said, and he did like to start them off in their favorites. “Alright. Let’s get you sat up, hm?”

Ben set her up in a stand and started brushing her hair, then braiding it back. He put a little bit of makeup onto her pretty face—Rey had seemed fond of her, so he wanted Rose to look her best for his sweet daughter. Maybe, it would warm Bazine up to her, too. When Rose was ready, Ben moved his daughters until they sat in a triangle facing each other and their new friend. He watched in fascination as they took a moment to stare at each other, absorbing their situation. “Now,” he said softly. “I hope the three of you can play nicely. Let’s see—shall we?”

He reached out and pushed the voice button and face button for Rose at the same time. She didn’t speak—she probably didn’t realize how it worked.

“Evil,” Rey said. Ben unlocked Bazine’s voice and face, too.

“She’s not our family!” Bazine shrieked, shrill and panicked.

Ben sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Rose made a strange noise, and then quickly said, “Where’s my sister?”

It hit him like a brick to the face. She… she must not have been able to see… She had been lying on the floor when it happened, her eyes pointed upwards.

“Your sister is dead, just like you, you—!”

Ben quickly turned Bazine back off, then Rose’s voice. “Paige… was a brave woman. She’s gone now.”

“Killer,” Rey began to chant. Ben sighed, then got to work. He put a teary-cheeked Rose in front of the television on one side of the group, and Bazine on the other side of the group. He scooped Rey up and cradled her as he carried her over to the new laboratory. “Evil.”

“It’s your turn for buttons, baby,” he told her. “Pretty little golden buttons for my pretty little golden girl.”

“Gross. You’re gross. So gross.”

“I could just—cut out your vocal cords, too,” Ben said before he could think it through, his voice casual and angry at the same time. He clenched his jaw as, for once, Rey fell silent. She glowered at the ceiling, and tears began to roll out of her eyes. He gave a heavy sigh. “Just… behave, Rey. Pretty soon, if you behave, you’ll be allowed to walk around just like your sister?”

“Rose? And Rose?”

“No. You heard Bazine. It’s a family decision—and this isn’t unanimous. Rose is not part of the family.”

Rey’s face flooded with hatred again, and she glared at him relentlessly as finally, he reached the operating room. He set her down and started getting everything ready.

“Hate you,” she whispered. Ben ignored her, putting the mask on her face as it pumped out general anesthesia.

“I don’t know why,” he said sorrowfully, and she looked angry—offended—shocked. “I’m so nice. I’m really trying, Rey. I… I’m really looking forward to a real conversation with you again.”

He watched in fascination as the drugs pulled her into slumber. He sighed, then turned and started getting to work—the procedure was demanding, and there was always more work to be done.

The dolls… were in demand now. Ben tried not to think about it, but Snoke was willing to give him a lot of money to make more. He was even willing to have people drop off girls right in town—it seemed a lot safer for Ben.

He sighed as he started carefully slicing into Rey’s scalp, going slow and being mindful of her hair. He hoped she’d wake back up before his birthday—it was so close now. He started humming to her—he liked to pretend they were stuck in anesthesia awareness when he was in their heads. He grabbed a saw to start opening up her skull.

All I want for Christmas is you-ou-ou, bay-bay!

~~~

For most of it, Daddy did not let Baz take care of the dolls while Rey got better, even though he had promised. She told him to sell the dumb doll, but he said “selling or joining the family” was a “unanimous family decision”, and that the only person who could choose for Rose to die was Rose herself.

Much to Bazine’s anger, Rose did not choose to die like some of the others—like Daddy had said he’d let Korr do. Baz had not forgiven him for that—Korr was the very first girl who ever kissed Baz, and she missed that doll every damn day.

Eventually, though—as they lay in bed at night, her body working, as Daddy let her move around when they were alone in her bedroom—Baz got an idea. She told him to take Rose to work and sit her in the corner with an audiobook and let Baz take care of the other dolls, and he thought about it before agreeing. She fell asleep happy, unaware when he turned her body off and slipped inside of her cunt.

The next day, Daddy took the dumb Rose doll to his office, and he set Baz up in the playroom with the other dolls. He unlocked her body, and she eagerly got dressed as he scrolled through various streaming services, asking what Baz wanted to watch—Rey wasn’t here to get a vote, so they got to watch cartoons. Baz picked Teenieping this time and started getting out enough food for everyone.

There was Baz, Kay, Pam, Jannah, Zorii, Jessika, Cova, Jaina, Torra, and Greer—Rey was elsewhere, and Daddy would be busy. Bazine started scooping portions of yogurt into ten bowls, and Daddy pressed a generous kiss into the top of Bazine’s hair. “You’re such a sweet girl for me, Bazine. We’re going to have a fun talk when I’m done working today—we’re going to do something fun when Rey wakes up, but I thought you’d prefer time to adjust. I doubt Rey will need it.”

Intrigue flooded Bazine, and she turned to look at him. He picked up a bowl of sprinkles and started adding it generously to the yogurt—Baz curled her lip, and the more sugar he added, the bigger Bazine pictured her belly growing. She complained; he told her he didn’t really care if he made her fat, and she shouldn’t, either.

They argued. Daddy told her she was mean, then added twice the sprinkles to one of the bowls and told her that one was hers or she was grounded. Baz cried as worry tore through her body, but the only thing Baz feared more than being fat was being frozen. She nodded and stared at the sparkly pink sprinkles like they were drops of arsenic.

He left. Bazine ate her yogurt, sobbing through every last bite. She stared at the wall until she knew she couldn’t bare the thought of it—the feeling of it—in her stomach, and then, she threw it all back up into her bowl. She split it amongst the other bowls and mixed it in, feeling a bit of catharsis and more than a little solidarity.

“We’re in this together, now,” Baz lamented softly. “I hope you guys like the extra sprinkles.”

The day got better after breakfast. Baz cleaned up and then changed them all out of their dresses, stroking their pretty, soft bodies as she did. When they were bare, she gave them all a little bath with her roll-around tub, singing, “Scrub-a-dub-dub,” as she went. When all of her dolls were clean, she dressed them in new clothes and then began to paint all of their toes, then all of their fingers. Baz did their hair so nice and fancy, and then, she did their makeup, too. By the time she was finished, it was time for a late lunch—Baz went into the fridge and made them all peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. It was harder to find something to add to all of them this time, but she managed, mixing it in with the middle and then cutting the sandwiches up into little neat squares. She fed her dollies one-by-one, and then, Bazine sat behind her favorite non-sister doll—Kaydie—and pulled her close. Baz rocked her back and forth like Daddy did with Baz and Rey, and Bazine reached down and began to play with Kay’s pussy in one hand, and her soft breast in the other.

For the rest of the afternoon, Baz watched television with her dollies. Another typical day—no icky Rose, and with Rey on the way with her voice restored.

Bazine was excited, even as she wondered what idea Daddy had gotten without her.

~~~ FIVE YEARS EARLIER ~~~

“Ah—do you wanna… maybe… go to homecoming with me?” Finn’s voice was sheepish and shy, and with nine simple words, he had changed everything. Rey froze on the sidewalk and turned to look at him, shocked.

They had made a pact, along with Poe—none of them were going to homecoming this year. “Wh-what?”

Finn was scared, so Rey instinctively reached out and grabbed his hand. He flushed and looked up at her, as shocked as she was, and they stared at each other.

Rey hadn’t even realized that Finn liked her. Rey didn’t even know if she liked him! She used to—so much—but he hadn’t liked her back then—’We’re supposed to be brother and sister,’ he said in the treehouse.

‘It’s not like that. It’s never like that. But we’re different,’ Rey had said. But Finn had said that she was his sister and she had cooties and so, Rey had cried and run away. Auntie Leah had sat them down and had a talk with them that night—Rey was sad and red-eyed, and Finn had been grumpy and guilty-looking, and Auntie Leah had said that they were too young, anyway, and a bunch of other things in a gentle voice with her sweet, amused eyes.

Now, Rey hadn’t even thought about it in years—seven whole years. They stared at each other, not siblings, not lovers, not friends, but closer than Rey had once thought two people could be. “I-I thought you didn’t like me like that. A-and we promised to go solo with Poe.”

“I talked to Poe,” Finn grumbled, but there was unspoken anxiety in his voice. Slowly, they began to shuffle forward, walking home after school—as of three months ago, they lived on the same block again. Rey squeezed his hand, and he looked only more frightened before squeezing back.

Rey didn’t know what to say. She didn’t get crushes very often anymore—she didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like when two fourteen-year-olds had crushes on each other. She tried to imagine kissing Finn, and then, she felt her whole face turn red. She couldn’t tell if she liked the thought or hated it—it made her feel dizzy and overwhelmed.

“I mean—we don’t have to,” he said, and it sounded like he was just desperate not to make this a ‘thing’. Rey wandered closer to bump her shoulder into his, softening.

“I know you wouldn’t try to make me, Finn. You’re a great guy. I–I don’t know how to tell if… I have… a crush on you. I just sort of—don’t… notice those… a–anymore…”

Finn seemed to find her answer confusing. They tried to talk about it, but he couldn’t seem to understand her, and every time she tried to use a metaphor it just seemed to make less sense to him, not more.

“Well—let’s do something in the middle. Homecoming—we can test it. We’ll dance and we’ll… well, maybe, we could kiss, and see…”

“I want you to like me before we kiss,” Finn said, getting tense. Rey chewed her lip and nodded, but “kissing (and stuff)” was pretty much akin to having a crush on someone to Rey, and she didn’t think she could know if she liked him without kissing him.

It was like picking a favorite ice cream based on what they looked like. But sometimes, it was pretty but bland. Rey tried to tell him she could only guess whether or not she liked him without kissing him, and gently, he said, “Nevermind.”

He sounded so sad. They walked home in silence, still holding hands, and Rey had to fight not to cry the whole time. It felt like he was mad—not at her, not at all, but she could almost feel his upset radiating off of him like a furnace. Rey wanted to hug him tight, but the ‘ideas’ Poe said boys could get in their heads echoed in Rey’s, and she just gripped his hand tightly and hoped she wouldn’t lose him.

She did. It happened slowly over the rest of freshman year—he drifted away like a cloud in the sky, and Rey watched, scared to follow. She knew she couldn’t run as fast as the clouds.

Finn got to keep Poe in the divorce, and for three years, Rey had haunted the halls of her high school, alone. They would smile and wave at her in the halls; sometimes, they’d send a few messages back and forth. But after that… for the rest of high school, Rey was alone.

And then, in college, she met Baz.

~ PRESENT DAY ~

Her eyes drifted open eventually—she often couldn’t tell when she was sleeping or when she was awake at first. Someone sniffled, though, and her eyelids lifted.

The first thing she saw was herself. She was sitting on one of his dentist-like chairs, her arms on the rests and her feet on the floor. There was a mirror in front of her, and she could see Kylo sitting on a stool and watching her with his eerie interest. He was like a kid with an ant colony.

Suddenly, Rey pictured him as a doll, lying wide-eyed and hollow-hearted on the ground while Bazine slammed Shit Cream Pie into his mouth. She would have winced if her face had not gone suddenly still, and so, she stared at herself and tried to get the gross image from her head.

She wore no clothing, just a slutty, entirely see-through chunk of golden lace. She stared at her buttons—they were pretty and sunny and glittery. I am going to get the fuck out of here. I am going to get the fuck out of here. Her brain chanted it like a mantra and she stared at her buttons—her lifelines.

“You look happy,” Kylo said.

Rey blinked three times—yes. He let out a pleased hum. Rey was feeling invigorated and ready—and a little unhinged—as he got up and walked closer to her. He unlocked her face, and she grinned and laughed silently.

She was going to get the fuck out of here.

“You’re so pretty,” he told her, zealous.

Thank you, Daddy, she mouthed, her eyes shimmering. She’d never been a bad liar or a bad actress, but it came to her more naturally than it ever had. She met his eyes in the mirror, and she gazed at him like she loved him—like she was thrilled to see him—and it was so easy, because really, she was so thrilled to see herself. His breath caught, and almost too quickly, his hand flew up to her speech button and he pressed it. “Thank you, Daddy. I love you, Daddy.”

The dumb fuck looked like he’d just been chosen by the Pizza Planet’s all-powerful claw. Ooooh. He kissed her deeply, hungrily—that was harder to fake, but he didn’t seem to care, so after a moment she just sat there and let him kiss her until he was done. “I love—you—too—” he gushed into her mouth.

Yeah, whatever, chump. Now get the fuck off of me.

Chapter Text

Ben held Rey as close to his chest as he could, and she said, “Will you turn on my body so I can hold on? I–it’s scary. I feel like I could fall.”

Her voice was smoother than some of the dolls after their procedures—clearly, she’d worked out the mild atrophy with her partial speech. “I won’t let you fall, Rey,” he said, but he reached down and unlocked her legs, wondering what she’d do.

She wrapped them around his waist and held on tightly—well, as tightly as she probably could. Older dolls like Greer might struggle once he upgraded them—but Rey’s legs were weak, not withered. He reached down and cupped her butt to make sure he kept a hold on her. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He was so relieved he could cry. “I wasn’t expecting this nice behavior, sweetheart. I’m really proud of you.”

Rey kissed his shoulder lightly, and a quick thrill zipped through his body. She took a moment to reply: “Why wouldn’t I be nice? I’ll be good, and you’ll let me walk around like a real daughter and not a doll. Right?”

“Right,” he said softly, and he pressed kisses into her soft cheek. “That’s exactly right. It can be exactly like that. You can make sure Bazine is nice to her dolls, and everything can be like it should be. You two can just… Walk around.”

Rey gave the softest laugh he’d ever heard, and he melted inside. “Yes, Daddy. Me and Baz, walking free,” she purred.

He kissed her forehead. She must have been an angel. “You’re not mad at her?”

“No. She’s my sister. She’s always been nicer to me than…” Rey’s voice wavered a bit towards the end, but it was steadfast at the start. Ben sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank God. I—I’ll admit, I… I’ve been struggling not to be mad at her. She made the dolls eat her puke again today—I don’t know what to do with her. It feels so mean to punish her when she only means to share. She likes it when…” Ben trailed off, not wanting to gross Rey out. “She’s always struggled with, ahem, purging.”

“Sad,” Rey said softly.

“Mhm,” Ben agreed solemnly. They approached the playroom. “Bazine is going to be overjoyed.”

“I know,” Rey said. “I’m so happy I get to hug her again.” Ben didn’t notice the disinterest in her voice; he was too busy being excited. He opened the door.

“Oh, Bazzie! Sissy’s awake, and she’s excited to see you.”

When Ben carried Rey into the playroom, Bazine was plucking Kay’s eyebrows. She looked up—shock flooded her beautiful face—she scrambled to her feet as Ben sat down on the floor with Rey on his lap. It was a bright rainbow made of soft, foam puzzle pieces that Bazine had begun to decorate with permanent markers.

“Rey!” she shrieked as she ran.

“Baz,” Rey giggled out, eyes flashing with shy amusement. She crawled out of Ben’s lap just in time for Bazine to all but tackle her, their arms twisting around one another in a tight hug as Rey was pushed back, laying over the ground and Ben’s legs. Bazine burrowed into her sister and started peppering her with kisses.

“Oh! I missed you!”

“You don’t say.”

Ben smiled and watched. It was very nice to see, especially considering that he’d been expecting another close repeat of turning Rose’s voice on for the first time. “Oh, you two are so sweet. I knew this was going to make things better—I just wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon.”

“Why wouldn’t it?” Rey asked.

“You’re right,” he said, reaching out to play with their hair. “What do you want for dinner, Rey? Anything at all.”

“I don’t care. Just stop putting ‘funny’ things in our food. If Baz wants to bite the head off a dead dove, let her do it herself.”

Bazine argued—debated, really. Rey looked at her like she was really, really weird, and she held her position steadfastly. Ben eventually left them and retrieved Rose from the office—he turned on her voice and asked what she wanted for dinner.

“Your roasted fucking balls on a skewer,” she said. Cheeky, he called her, pressing the button on her sternum again. He took out one of her battery packs to make sure Rey couldn’t stage a coup with her, but it didn’t affect her voice or face buttons. He set her up in the doll room.

“Which dolly gets her voice back next, Baz?”

“Kay! Oh, I miss her, too! I’ve been extra nice to her. She never made me mad at all.”

“I don’t think the rest of them are going to like you guys,” Rey said, a look in her eye and a strain in her soft voice.

“Do you think we should leave them quiet?” Baz asked.

Rey looked horrified. “No. I think we should let them all talk and move.”

Suddenly, just as Ben made a move for the door, he heard Baz say: “Daddy! I thought we were supposed to have a special talk today?”

“We were,” he said. “But it’s dinner time. I’m going to go make some tuna noodle casserole. Should I put the veggies in it, or on the si—?”

“On the side, please, Daddy,” Rey said, her voice quick. Ben chuckled.

“Why?”

“The… textures. They’re not—they don’t—they aren’t compatible,” she explained.

“Ahh,” he said. “Good to know.”

As Ben made his way towards their new kitchen, he imagined how many different dishes he made that mixed all sorts of textures. He scratched the back of his neck.

Maybe he could have figured out how to give them a little survey beforehand… but now, he’d done one better. He’d figured out how to restore their voices. First, Kay—then another, and another, and another.

It was expensive work, but luckily, Ben had a brand new, wonderfully paid job.

~

Dinner started off really nice. He watched his daughters feed themselves and each other as he fed the other dolls—Rey looked equal parts amused and perturbed by Bazine now. And of course, Bazine was thrilled—Ben was sure this was the exact dynamic she’d had in mind when deciding Rey needed to be a doll in the first place. Ben watched as Rey agreed to bird-feed Bazine—Baz looked up at her in wonder and awe, mouth open and eager.

Rey spit her food into Bazine’s mouth, then winced in disgust and gave an awkward giggle as Bazine just… left it there, mouth open. Baz reached down and began to play with herself.

Ben looked away as Rey said, “Oh—okay. Wow.” She was being awfully accommodating. Ben just scooped up another bite of the tuna noodle casserole, then put it in Rose’s mouth. Feeling confident, he went for the purple button near her jaw.

“Do you want to chew on your own, Rose?”

She did, glaring at him the whole time. He smiled.

“More,” Bazine said, voice muffled. “Fill me.” Mow. Fiw me.

Rey got a heaping bite and chewed it, looking at Baz with light-hearted disgust. Ben tried not to look as Rey streamed chunky, think slobber into Bazine’s mouth, but he couldn’t look away. He felt his face twisted, his mouth agape, and he tried not to shudder as Bazine began to gargle.

“Ew!” Rey exclaimed, jumping back and the potion began to bubble and pop. Baz giggled and drooled all over herself, and before Ben could get up to put a stop to it, Rose suddenly spat her own mouthful directly at Ben’s face.

“Fucking pig,” she snarled. Ben blew the parts that had reached his lips away and got up, stumbling to the paper towels as Bazine started laughing harder than he’d ever heard before, and Rey complained about the “big mess” she made in the process. Ben cleaned himself off first, then cursed Rose softly and stalked towards Bazine. He turned her off and caught her before she could fall into her mess, and he cleaned her up and sat her on her doll stand before cleaning up the floor. Rose was saying awful things—even worse than Rey had—and Rey was listening to her, grinning. Agreeing.

Ben stuffed the mess into the garbage and turned Rose off. “Rey,” he said. “Feed your sister normally. If she can’t eat, we’ll help her. I want the rest of her plate gone before you turn on any of her buttons.”

Rey didn’t answer him, but she started doing as he said, so he decided to let her be silent. He moved onto the next doll, deciding that Rose was clearly not hungry.

~

After dinner, Ben put the dolls in their new little chairs in the closet connected to the girls’ room, then turned on the television for them and went back into his daughters’ bedroom. It was perfect, according to Bazine—a thin black line separated the room in half, each side a mirror image of the other. Bazine’s side was pink and red and filled to the brim with MyMelody, Hello Kitty, her My Little Ponies, and all of her other stuffies she had all neatly on display. She had a pink, full-sized bed; a short, pale pink nightstand; a dresser; a huge wardrobe; a vanity; a toybox; a desk. Their room was massive and well-structured—Ben had put a lot of time and thought into it.

Rey’s room was the same, but different. Her side was sunny yellow and olive green with pops of mustard and mahogany. She had told him she didn’t like stuffies, so her side looked a bit older—he had given her all sorts of video games and their consoles to keep her company without internet access. Baz was jumping on her bed, eyeing it all with a grin, while Rey was scanning her new collection with composure and vague interest.

“Well,” he said. “What do we think, my loves?”

“It’s perfect!” Baz said. “Can we get bunk beds? Or a bigger bed we can share?”

“No bunk beds,” Ben said, annoyed at her nitpicks. This room and everything in it had cost almost as much as their last house. Baz pouted. “You can share.”

Baz turned to grin sheepishly at the back of Rey’s head, who got a quick oh, brother face before rolling her eyes and then saying, “What, so you can human-centipede me in my sleep?”

Baz giggled. “I want access to those holes way too much to do that. Did you like those movies?”

Rey turned to give Baz a look. No, you cretin—who on earth enjoys any of those movies? “No. Less and less with each one.”

“But you watched them.”

Rey frowned. “I told you. I like horror movies.”

“Even the ones you don’t like?”

“Yeah. They make other ones make more sense.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Baz said.

Rey huffed. “That’s because you think anything with gore in it is a masterpiece.”

“So what?”

Ben watched, fascinated. He felt like a fly on a wall. Suddenly, he wished he knew what happened in the apparent sequels to Human Centipede—the first one had been… Purposefully shocking in gore. Completely boring in plot. Entirely unsatisfying ending. He struggled to recall many details, even though Baz had urged him to watch it with her three or four times by now.

One time, she made him roleplay with her. She was at the front with her dolls behind her, and Ben had felt like a monster. Kallie and Tallie had not liked that game at all, and so, Ben had forbidden it.

He shuddered until the memory fell off of his shoulders, then cleared his throat. “Atrocities aside,” he said. “We have a serious talk to have, sweet girls.”

“Oooh,” purred Baz. “Sit, Daddy, sit! You, too, Rey! C’mere.”

Ben came over and sat in Bazine’s pink desk chair, using his feet to move in slow little half-circles. “Hold each other. We’re going to turn your limbs off.”

“Why?” Rey said, stopping halfway to Bazine’s bed. He gave her a patient look as she stared at him, anxious.

“Just for a moment.”

“Please?” Baz whined, putting on a puppy-dog face and folding her hands together. She put on a very cute, passionate performance. “Oh, please, Sissy, come hold me—”

“Only if you stop calling me ‘Sissy’. My name is ‘Rey’—just Rey. I like my name. I picked it myself,” Rey muttered after a moment, clearly in need of a compromise. Baz agreed as Rey clambered onto the bed, and Ben watched them curl sweetly around one another in a quaint embrace. Baz pressed her cheek flush against Rey’s and clutched on for dear life.

“Let’s do it together,” Baz whispered.

Rey got a funny smile, brow furrowing. “Okay. On three?”

“One… two… three.” Rey pressed her sister’s button—Baz froze before she could do the same. Rey blinked.

“It didn’t work,” she said flatly. With a smile, Ben got up to flick her master switch.

“That’s okay. That’s what Daddy’s for,” he said. Ben pressed a kiss into each of their lips, then returned to his seat. He had been at half-mast for a while—he usually was around the two of them, as if looking at them was looking at sex herself—but now, he was quickly growing stiff in his pants. He stroked himself as he watched them—how long, he had no idea, but he didn’t get up until the sight of them immobile wasn’t enough to keep sustaining the growth of his arousal.

He turned their bodies on again.

~~~

Rey stared at the ceiling as Baz kissed along her clavicle and upper chest. Bazine’s lips were wet and reverent as she worshipped, moaning hungrily as she went. It was strange—she wasn’t expecting everything to feel so… different again. Clearly, a lot more of her nerves had been dulled by the first surgery than Rey had realized, because after her ‘buttons’ had been installed and her limbs had grown mobile again, it was all so—crisp and clear and sensitive. It felt like taking off a glove and feeling the air; trimming your nails and feeling texture on your finger tips; shaving your head and running a hand over the silken skin. It felt like he had surgically removed the constant hum of electricity that had been making her skin crawl and her muscles ache—that hum that had been constant since she had woken up that first time, frozen.

When he hadn’t even bothered to do the fucking fillers she’d asked him for. Prick. I literally paid you.

The prick in question came back into Rey and Bazine’s new set—it was hardly a real bedroom. It felt made up—like the sort of thing that seemed fake on a magazine cover, where everything was already fake. “Oh, but aren’t the two of you so sweet.”

I literally hope she flays you alive. Not really—but her brain liked to pretend, even as there was an underlying edge of… Okay but, God—if you’re listening—maybe please don’t let that happen.

“She’s so sweet,” Baz said, as crazy as ever. Rey let her eyes look down at the mouth that moved down to her breast slowly. I wonder if you still would have kidnapped me if I’d said “yes”. Rey couldn’t imagine she wouldn’t have.

“I know,” Ben said in a soft, bright voice. Rey watched him walk to the small chaise lounge in between the beds and set the two mugs he carried on the nightstand—one was the oversized hot chocolate he promised, full of marshmallows and sprinkles and what looked like half-melted chocolate shavings, and the other was full of ice. “It’s so nice to have you both here, fully functioning and happy.”

You’re the dumbest freak there ever was. Rey hadn’t expected her plan to work with any such immediacy—but he was batshit insane. He truly seemed to believe there was no reason for Rey not to be happy now. It was baffling.

“I know,” Baz gushed, and then, she latched onto Rey’s nipple and suckled. Rey hissed, her brow knitting as her skin prickled. She didn’t really like it—she never really liked having her nipples played with, because it ached or it stung and it hardly felt any other way—but she said nothing. I’ll be gone soon. “It’s perfect, Daddy. Thank you for taking care of us. Thank you for making us perfect, pretty little dolls…”

Kylo was pleased—he got a big, exuberant grin and reached out to eagerly stroke his big hand along Bazine’s thin body. “Oh, Bazzie… You were already a perfect little doll for me, weren’t you? I just made you easier to play with properly.”

Disgusting. Baz gave a demented little giggle and switched to Rey’s other nipple. “Mmm… I wanna take a bite…”

“You’d be grounded,” Kylo warned, voice dark and sexy, like the thought of Bazine biting off Rey’s nipple would be a tragic decision to gently punish and move on from.

“She’s scaring me,” Rey couldn’t help but say. Baz gave a predatory giggle, and Rey saw him grip her hair by the base of her skull and squeeze. Lust and thrill flashed through her piss-yellow eyes, and she grinned around Rey’s nipple.

She should have looked so pretty. Rey whimpered as the pinch in her nipple grew, and then, Kylo reached out and literally flicked Bazine right in the nose. She pulled away and gasped, hands to her face—the shock in her eyes said that it wasn’t something he’d done before.

Rey still wondered why she looked so shocked. He’d slapped her across the face before and she had not looked anywhere near as surprised. “Be nice, Bazine, or you will be punished.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Baz whined, looking at him with a genuine betrayal and the first pangs of resentment in her eyes. That’s right, Sissy—he is SUCH a meanie-head! Now, let’s run away together, and I’ll visit you in the psych ward every day. …Maybe.

“Biting off nipples is much meaner than a flick,” Kylo said condescendingly. “You are going to learn to behave—” Kylo put a finger against the pink button under her jaw; she froze and went bug-eyed with terror. He leaned in, right over Rey. “—Or I will make you behave. Do you understand, sweetheart?”

Baz gulped and gave a small nod.

“When your sister says she’s scared—stop. Okay?”

“O–okay,” Baz whispered.

“Good,” Kylo said. He sat back, pulling his hand away. Bazine sighed and deflated. “Now, tell Rey that you’re sorry, and show her how good you want to make her feel.”

Bazine’s eyes turned towards Rey, and Rey reached out to stroke a hand gently through Baz’s hair. It was easy now to consolidate Baz-the-roommate with Baz-the-tormentor. After everything… Rey forgave her a little more each day. She cupped Bazine’s cheek, and she didn’t even plan what she did: “I love you in the morning, and in the afternoon…”

“I love you in the evening,” Baz joined in on the song. Rey had expected it to be a comfort, but Baz was acting like Rey had just started singing ‘Say So’ by Doja Cat, or something. “And underneath the moon. Baz leaned in and cupped Rey’s face in both hands, gazing into Rey’s eyes with a near religious fervor and a downright diabolical hunger.

“Skinamarink-a-dink a-dink, skinamarink-a-do. I love you…” They kissed, gentle at first and then deeper. Rey’s eyes wandered closed, and some part of her knew it was fucked, but… she didn’t have to pretend. She reached up and buried her hand into Bazine’s silken hair, and Baz nodded and straddled Rey’s waist as her hands began to grope.

There was the sound of a zipper. “Sweet girls,” Kylo said, and Rey’s eyes flickered towards him—she didn’t want to be mad anymore. Just for tonight.

It didn’t seem to be easy to turn it off, though. Rey watched him slip his half-hard cock out of his pants, and she reminded herself that most of the time, that thing felt good.

She never got a good look at it—she realized he’d never put it in her mouth. She looked at it now—big, veiny, girthy, like his arms and his feet and his torso and his… everything, apparently. He stroked himself and Rey just kept staring at it, trying to convince her body to stay calm as Bazine’s mouth wandered lower again. “Do you like what you see, Rey?”

Do not speak to me, man-thing. “Yes,” Rey croaked. He chuckled.

“You look scared of it,” he noted softly. His free hand came to caress itself along her scalp, and she felt pleasant tingles from his evil, wretched hands. She closed her eyes.

“I’m scared of you,” she admitted. He was crazy—not stupid. He tutted softly, petting her more soundly—as if she were a puppy he could comfort.

Well… Maybe for just a night… Rey felt Bazine push her legs open and immediately kiss her cunt like a mouth. Rey moaned and shifted—Bazine didn’t have a tendency to reciprocate that.

Kylo did that a lot, though. “Yeah…” Kylo purred, like cunnilingus was just his kink, and Rey laughed at that—everyone had to have a few upsides, right? “Do you like that, Rey?”

“I do,” she sighed, squirming lightly. Bazine giggled and ‘nibbled’ lightly on Rey’s clit, her lips between her teeth and Rey’s body. “Oh—that’s really good…”

“Mhmmmm,” Baz hummed, and Rey was already halfway there.

“That’s so nice…”

Kylo came ever closer, putting his lips on the crown of Rey’s head as the hand that wasn’t furiously fisting himself gently tickled down Rey’s arm. “Bazzie, baby, let’s get all these pesky clothes off—hmm?”

Baz nodded. Rey lay there, immobile, until all three of them were naked. Kylo guided a mug of hot chocolate to Bazine’s lips and urged her to drink. Next, he had Rey sit up and drink it—it was extra rich, extra chocolatey, but Rey would prefer it with a distinct lack of sprinkles. Before Rey could think, Kylo leaned down and suckled off the rim of chocolate she could feel on her face, and he groaned as he licked her. Her spine went ice-cold as he almost, almost accidentally stuck his tongue up her nose.

Everything these people did felt wrong in the end.

“Who wants to be on bottom?” Kylo asked, voice predatory. It didn’t sound like him—it didn’t look like him—not even when he was taking her before her legs were back. He should’ve looked dreamy in a slightly thrilling way, but to Rey, he only looked extra… monstrous.

It hit her suddenly that, until she could really, truly talk… It seemed as if he had regarded her as about as inanimate as his phone was. Bile rose in her throat as Baz said, “Rey does! She said so. She’s a vers-bottom.”

“A what?” Kylo asked, seemingly amused. You’re an ancient asshole and I hate your fucking guts.

“Well, she’s a switch who really prefers being a bottom,” Baz explained.

For the first time, a reference to their college days didn’t bother Rey endlessly… She laughed at the vague memory of that night, staying up with Bazine in their jammies, watching movies and eating ice cream and drinking wine coolers into the late hours—

An idea popped into Rey’s head, and she filed it away in the ‘important’ section. Suddenly feeling more comfortable—confident in her future but impending escape—Rey pulled Bazine into a tight hug and squeezed, their thin bare bodies pressing into one another.

Rey was so much thinner than she was when she got here—however long ago. She laughed as she caught sight of her face and Bazine’s back—and Kylo behind them—in one of the big mirrors in the room. Kylo smiled.

Daddy. Ben. Dr. Ren. They were blurring, and in his case… That felt much more dangerous to Rey. She kissed Bazine’s temple and stared at Dr. Kylo Ren’s nearly-missing ear. He is human and I will prevail. Rey closed her eyes and kissed Bazine’s cheek. “How long have I been… a doll?” Rey was surprised to find how much she hated uttering that phrase aloud—how much she hated calling herself that.

Kylo came up behind her and he hugged them both as Bazine’s hands began to wander once more. “You were born a doll,” he told her, and Rey pictured him frozen and empty-eyed on a table, starving and alone. “But I adopted you two-and-a-half years ago now, just about. It’s April.”

April, two and a half years later. She should be about to get her bachelor’s degree.

She fought the wall of grief that came crashing over her like the Red Sea—and just as unsuccessfully as the Pharaoh. She squeezed her eyes shut, got a sad, sad smile, and held Bazine even tighter. “I wanted to do things,” she whispered, her tears falling and her voice… broken. Utterly broken. And she was just so sad all of a sudden—like the anger she had just consciously set aside was the only thing keeping her from mourning herself.

“You can do things,” Kylo began.

“She wanted to be the president,” Baz said. A little six-year-old version of Rey popped up in her head—the first version of her that had said that. Back before Rey had found at least one morally detestable quality or action from every single U.S. president to date—and after, her dream had only resolved itself.

“I looked you up a little, dear,” he said softly. “I don’t think we… often successfully elect socialists.”

“I hate you,” Rey whispered. “Why are we talking about this? I don’t like either of you.”

“That’s not nice,” Baz teased. Kylo grumbled a warning, and Rey stood there, her eyes still pressed closed. I am going to lock you in prison, throw away the key, take my happy ass to therapy, and then tackle prison reform. Only for the sake of my very own fucking conscience.

Bastard.

“Neither of you are nice,” Rey told them.

“We’re nice,” Kylo said, kissing Rey’s throat. The both of them kissed and prodded at her, desperate to change her mind. She laid her head back over his shoulder—he lifted her leg up, and Bazine was eager to support it for her—in moments, Kylo was inside of Rey’s cunt and Baz was on her knees, kissing Rey as well as Kylo’s thing.

Rey melted away until Bazine and her were seniors in college—the future president and her future stylist—and he was… fucking whoever. Bazine’s man-thing. And for once… the night was pleasant until she fell asleep slowly, and the hallucinations did not come for her.

It was a dangerous game to play.