I no longer counted the days. No longer heard the whir of the air conditioner.

I didn’t care.

I had blinked.

I had fucking blinked.

Nursing my anger as if it were a newborn babe, I held it close to my chest. I fed it and coddled it. Glorying in how it grew. It heated me when I was chilled. It comforted me when I was lonely. My anger shone bright in the darkness.

First it was my eyelids. Then a finger. Then the whole hand. Then an arm. My lips.

Eventually, I was able to push myself up to a seated position inside the closet. I wanted to cry and laugh and sing when I was able to turn my head. It was a small thing, but it was mine. At least I could control something again. The old me. My life. My identity. All the memories I clung to so desperately started to recede. There was no room for sentimentality. I only had room in my thoughts for my anger. It was mine. Mine.

After several weeks, Steve returned.

This time I was ready for him.

* * *

“Fuck. You’re filthy,” he said with disgust as he lifted me out of the closet. This time I had to will myself to stay limp and pliable.

“Dammit. Carol’s home so I can’t hose you off in the shower. Fuck John and his stupid coke.”

Steve carried me over to the sofa. Placing me on the floor between his knees, he poked at my glass eyes. Pulled out several of my eyelashes. Then pulled on the lids.

“I’m an ass. Of course, you probably blinked. The stupid fucking lids move.”

Leaning back, he began to unbuckle his belt. I watched with interest as he pulled his cock free.

“Your snatch is filthy with my dried up cum, so I’ll just have to fuck your mouth,” he threatened with a sneer. First, he flipped me over his knee. I felt his finger probe my asshole.

“Fuck John and his stupid ideas. Your fucking asshole is all stretched out from the fucking bottle. Great. Just great.”

He flipped me back onto the floor.

“I’m probably better off getting a new fuck doll. You’re all used and dirty anyway,” he grumbled as he fisted his cock and shifted his hips forward.

The wide bulbous head slipped past my lips.

Wait.

I could feel the thick shaft as it slid into the cavity which was my mouth.

Wait.

The head bumped against the back of my throat before thrusting further.

Wait.

The musky scent of him assailed my nose as it was crushed against his stomach. His balls rested against my chin.

The length of his entire, thick, disgusting cock was in my mouth.

Concentrating all my rage, I closed my lips. Clamping down.

For once, Steve was the one screaming in agony. He stood up and swung his hips around as he tried to dislodge me. If only I had teeth, I wished. Using his fingers, he pried my mouth open.

Slipping his now flaccid and scarred cock from my mouth cavity, he raised me up by the throat. “You stupid fucking cunt doll,” he raged.

But his rage could not match mine. It would never match mine.

Raising my arm, I wrapped my fingers around his throat. And squeezed.

This time he would not dislodge me.

Desperately, Steve grabbed at my hand as he fell to his knees.

That’s it, slut. You like this don’t you. You like being on your knees before me. Choking.

His eyes bulged grotesquely as his grasp on my hard plastic arm weakened.

What a whore you are. You like it when I make it hurt, don’t you, Steve? Or should I call you by some stripper name. How about this time you be Trixie?

Lifting my other arm, I shoved my fingers into his gaping mouth.

What a tight mouth you have, Trixie. Let’s see if I can make a fist!

His skin turned a mottled purple as I slowly willed my fingers to claw along his tongue into a fist. I reveled in his garbled screams as he gasped and gagged for breath. I punched my fist further down his throat.

Too soon it was over.

Steve lay limp on the floor. A crumpled heap. Used and abused.

His eyes open but vacant. Lifeless.