The Doll Collector Ch. 01

He finally tired of Jillian's screaming and pleading; he approached the crate again with a syringe in his hand. He carefully injected a larger dose of the powerful sedative into Jillian's neck and soon she was quiet once more. Then he made himself comfortable and waited for the courier truck to arrive.

At about one in the morning the couriers arrived outside the warehouse. The abductor grabbed a breathing apparatus from the wall of the crate and hooked it up to the air tanks, and then he forced it into the sleeping Jillian's mouth. He secured it in place by wrapping several layers of duct tape around Jillian's mouth, careful not to catch her hair, knowing this was an important part of the delivery instructions. He adjusted the valves, made sure Jillian was breathing okay, and then filled the crate with more of the foam packing peanuts that covered the unconscious Jillian.

The top of the crate was being nailed down as the couriers entered the warehouse. It took them no time to load the crate on board. And in less than an hour the couriers were delivering the consignment to her new owner. Eager to return to his home and the rewards for his nights work, Jillian's abductor got back into the van and raced through the back streets to the place he had taken the van from. Exiting the van he grabbed his gear from the back and reached under the back tyre to replace the magnetic key holder.

Moving into the shadows from the factory car park, the man walked several blocks to his own car in a well lit area far from Jillian's apartment where he knew CCTV camera's could place him if necessary, and threw his gear in the back. Whistling a happy tune he folded his tall muscular frame into the driver's seat and turned the car towards his home.

*****

Jacques Milieu had woken early in anticipation and paced the conservatory floor waiting not only the dawn's arrival but that of a courier truck carrying a very valuable consignment. The buzz at the front gates sounded and Jack hurried to the intercom. He saw the courier van waiting in the small screen and, directing then to the right of the driveway, pressed the button to open the heavy iron gates. Jack's lips curled in satisfaction; he paid an extraordinary salary to keep Joe's loyalty but it was well worth it. Though Joe had many freedoms, Jacques still regarded him as part of his private collection rather than an employee; his own real life GI Joe.

Joe had made good time and arrived home as the courier's, having unloaded the crate, were leaving. Driving past the estate to avoid any recognition from the driver's, though the likelihood of anyone following his trail was scant, he waited an extra fifteen minutes before turning around and doubling back to the mansion; letting himself in through the gates and hurrying to the east wing and the studio.

Of the men who worked for Jacques six had arrived to see new doll uncrated and inducted into her new role. Joe walked into the viewing room with Jacques who took a seat in a large comfortable chair. "You can begin when you're ready," Jacque's voice held an excitement as he indicated the door into the studio with a wave of his damaged hand. Joe knew the girl in the crate belonged to Jacques now but he also knew that Jacques could never truly enjoy her himself. The fire had damaged seventy percent of his body and after decades of painful healing and surgery Jacques had finally put an end to his days in hospital and tried to find his own pleasures.

Joe had become Jacques friend and confidant in one rehabilitation hospital. Joe had recently returned injured from the Gulf War and Jacques was trying one last time to allow doctors to ease his suffering with surgery. Jacques had practically grown up in hospital with dolls as his only friends. He was obsessed with owning the most beautiful and rare and valuable. The men had maintained their friendship outside of the hospital and Joe, unable to reintegrate into society after his tour, became Jacques bodyguard, friend and after discovering the full extent of his friends disability, introduced him to the idea of fuck dolls and sexual aides.

Even prostitutes balked at the disfigured form of Jacques and he often watched from a corner of the room as the sadistic Joe took his pleasure from the girls of the night and paid them well when his friend was done with them.

Twice Jacques had fallen in love from afar with a woman he had encountered through his obsession with doll collecting. The first had been so overwhelmed by his ardent attentions which continued even after she had told him their relationship could only ever be strictly professional. She had in the end left her auction house and moved away with her husband. That woman was the first Joe had ever abducted for Jacques. Though there had been a couple of others in between that held his interest, he had not been so enthusiastic about a woman as he had been about the newest dolly bound into a tiny ball in the crate that had just been delivered.

Jacques had met her on his own not wanting to be compared to the tall, muscular and handsome Joe but she had rejected any advances he had made since then. Jacques had been strangely quiet about what had actually occurred that weekend but Joe had sought out Billy who had filled him in on all the details. Joe was looking forward to this encounter and he walked slowly into the studio and kicked the crate, hearing a muffled whimper in reply.

Joe grabbed a crowbar to pry open the top of the crate. He turned off the valve to the air tanks. He checked the gauges murmuring, "looks like you only had about thirty more minutes of oxygen left 'little dolly', a good thing we didn't run into any car trouble." He shifted through the packing peanuts until he found the bound up Jillian, extracted the breathing apparatus from her mouth, and then pulled her out of the crate like the prize from a Cracker Jack box. "Did the little dolly enjoy the ride?" Joe crooned with a large grin on his face.

Despite the grogginess that still threatened to engulf her, Jillian felt many things at the moment, but she could not reply to this obnoxious and arrogant man immediately. She felt numb from her extended restraint. She felt hungry and thirsty because she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. She felt nauseous from the drugs she had in her system. She felt irate at finding herself in this situation, but she felt absolutely no comprehension of his question or how to answer the man who had abducted her and, as weak as she was, she probably couldn't respond as she would have liked to any way.

Joe prepared to release the bound Jillian, but first he fastened a tight collar around her neck. To Jillian it seemed, at first, like a dog collar, but she was confused by what seemed to be some kind of little black box that was attached to it. Had the drugs in her system not caused her to be a little woozy, she probably would have immediately realized exactly what that little black box was. But Jillian, still bound as she was, could offer no resistance and the collar was fastened easily.

Now Joe went about untying the ropes that held her prisoner. After the ropes had been untied he grabbed a pair of wire cutters and cut the plastic ties that bound her arms and legs. Joe allowed Jillian to unfurl her limbs on her own, and then massaged them to get the circulation going again. When Jillian's skin tone started to resemble its' normal colour he stopped and ordered her to stand.

Jillian made no effort to move. Joe grabbed her by the arm and forced her to stand. Jillian tried to gain her balance on wobbly legs.

"Now 'little dolly' it's time you learned to follow instructions." Joe grinned.

Jillian was really getting annoyed about the name he used every time he spoke to her and without thinking bust forth, "What the fuck do you know about manners, you fucking ass hole. I am not a dolly to be toyed with!"

Joe said nothing, but removed a small remote control unit from his pocket and pressed a button.

Jillian convulsed in pain as an electric shock shot through her body, then collapsed back onto the floor.

As Joe grabbed her by the arms and forced her to stand once again, he said, "I know a pretty little dolly with a master's degree in art history shouldn't use that kind of language. We may have to do something about that."

Jillian still wasn't thinking too clearly, but she had no problem remembering the pain caused by the collar, and she definitely recognized the tone in Joe's voice. She decided to be quiet and listen, for now.

"You, little dolly must be pretty smart to have earned a master's degree, so there is no sense in reviewing how you got here. You are here now, and from here there will be no return to the life you knew as Jillian Blakeley. You are now 'little dolly' until your new master gives you a name. You are now the property of your new master, and the sooner you accept that the better off you'll be."

Jillian listened and seethed with anger at every word Joe spoke, "You fucking ass holes won't get away with this. Let me tell you I'm nobody's little dolly, and you're not going to fucking make me one."

Joe let her finish her tirade watching her without emotion, then with a sly little grin on his face held the remote in front of the steaming Jillian. Her eyes grew wide and tears streamed down her face as she realized what was about to happen, "Noooooooooo," she wailed.

Having gained her attention Joe pressed the button, holding it longer than before. This time Jillian did not just collapse, she was rendered unconscious by the electrical jolt. Joe left her on the floor and prepared the doll stand.

When Jillian regained consciousness she was strapped to a stand. Her head ached and she tried to raise her hand but found she couldn't. She tried to look down but found her head was held in place by the collar that had been attached to what felt like a flat metal pole that ran up the centre of her back to the collar. She found she could not lift her arms; they were cuffed just below the elbow and joined by another smaller pole behind her back so they hung at her sides. Likewise her feet seemed immobilized by a similar bar and cuffs.

Looking around she appeared to be alone in the room and she took the time to examine it trying to work out where she was. Jillian tried to sort through the muddle in her mind; she had gone home, had a shower, then..., the box, oh god, the box, then this. The room was like an artist's studio, a wall lined with books, benches along another two walls covered in tools and, she looked closer twisting her head in the too tight collar, what seemed like small pots of paint or make up. The final wall was filled with two massive armoires and a large mirror that was as wide as it was tall.

Her mind worked over what she knew. She was in a strange place with a man she had never seen before. She was being held captive, once again she pulled at the bonds that held her, but why? Why did he call her 'little dolly' and then she remembered; he had said she would not return to her life, that she had an owner now. Jillian felt tears prick at her eyes and began to struggle in earnest, fear coursing through her as the full extent of her situation loomed over her. "Help!" Jillian shouted, "Please someone help me!"

Joe walked back into the room, "There is no one here that will help you little dolly. You will find that everyone who lives in this house is intensely loyal to your new owner."

"You can't do this, you can't own another person." Jillian was becoming hysterical and her voice was almost a screech as she struggled uselessly against the bonds that held her.

Joe held up the remote control and her eyes widened, "Noooooo," Jillian screamed as a short burst of current flowed into her body making her thrash against the stand that held her.

Joe moved closer to her, she could feel his breath against her cheek as he murmured, "We can do this. In fact, we have done this. The sooner you accept that your new life begins now the better off you will be." Jillian shook her head in disbelief unable to form words in her fear. Joe's hand moved down her over her shoulder and cupped an ample breast, watching her eyes fly wide and her breath hiss as he slowly squeezed until his fingers dug into her, painfully making her cry out.

Jillian couldn't stop crying now and sobbed pitifully as the large man's hand continued its movement down her body to cup her cunt, his fingers gambolling in the soft moist flesh. "Such a pretty little dolly, I am going to enjoy playing with you," his murmur was close to her ear. Pushing two fingers into her, he watched her face closely as she struggled and cried out again and he grinned, "In time you will be begging for my attentions."

"Never," she screeched and fought the feelings that made her wet with the intrusion of his fingers in her cunt.

Joe chuckled, "I can make your life here very enjoyable." He curled his fingers within her and pressed his thumb again her clit, rubbing in slow circles, watching her reactions closely and feeling her slut slime drip around his fingers. "Or I can make your time here unbearable," he said as he suddenly withdrew his fingers and shoved them into her open mouth so deeply that she gagged. His other hand held her jaw in place as he drove the fingers in and out of her mouth making her gag and retch.

Stepping away from the girl, leaving her gasping and sobbing, Joe turned toward the large mirror and smiled. A distant disturbingly familiar voice sounded over a speaker within the room, "Prepare her for appraisal."

Joe turned to the bench and took up a syringe, injecting her with a mild sedative, again making her groggy once more. He then removed her from the stand and moved her to a cold metal table where he could work with ease as the girl floated into a drug-induced sleep. Joe took his time cleaning her thoroughly, giving her an enema, douching her cunt and with great care pushing a feeding tube down her throat and giving her a specialised liquid meal that would sustain her for the long day ahead. Once the needs of her body were seen to, he called in Rose to help dress the little dolly and paint her face.

Jacques had not moved from the viewing room. He had avidly watched as the woman who had so captivated him was transformed into his very own boudoir doll. He had chosen each article of clothing carefully having stripped her and taken precise measurements during her weekend stay so many weeks ago. He his lips curled into the strange snarling smile as another man joined him in the viewing room.

"How are you feeling my friend?" Gabriel asked.

Jacques gave a small laugh, "Always the worry. Do not be concerned, look at what I have to remind me of the beauty of life." Gabriel looked at the girl doll in the other room and pursed his lips; he could see the glazed expression that told him his experimental drugs were working in her system. The Doctor's experimental medication's had not always worked as well as they did now. One of his experiments had gone very wrong several years ago and left a number of young women mindless shells. Doctor Gabriel Reynolds had his medical license suspended pending investigation and his lucrative plastic surgery practise had been shut down. Jacques Milieu had approached him after he had lost everything and offered him assistance, work and friendship. After a drawn out court battle funded by Jacques, Gabriel had retained his license and came to be the personal physician to his benefactor and his unusual household.

He enjoyed being able to work without restrictions and GI Joe supplied him with the test subjects he needed. The prostitutes, rarely knowing where they were or who they were with when they were returned to the streets in a confused state, were rarely able to recount their adventure with much detail. The docile young woman in the next room was not here for him though. This one was destined for Jacques personal collection and possibly more than that. He kept his personal collection in a special room and rarely did more than gaze at them occasionally or give them to his men to use as a reward for loyal service. On rare occasions he would invite a small group of fellow collectors to dinner and have them serve as maids and entertainment.

Gabriel knew though that Jacques was searching for a love to share his life as none of his friends could, and how no woman had been able to as yet. "Are you sure this is the one?" Gabriel asked tentatively, worry for his friend creasing his brow.

"Yes," Jacques replied simply, "She can be trained with your and Joe's help. I am sure of it. With the right motivation and conditioning she will be perfect."