Chapter Five

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When Callan returned to his bedroom, he could see that not all the dresses were put away. There were still at least three or four laying out. Walking over to the dollhouse, he knelt down, peeking in a window to find Molly sitting in one of the chairs in the living room, and she immediately tensed seeing him. "Molly, get out here right now." He demanded, straightening himself up to his full height. 

Molly sat there, now terrified. She needed to take a small break because she was getting tired from going up and down the steps. Now he wanted her, and he sounded angry! What would he do? "Molly!" He snapped, and she bolted up from the chair, holding the skirt of her dress and ran over to the door, opening it a crack it peeking her head out at him. 

"Y-Yes Master?" She said quietly, slowly walking all the way, closing the door behind her. Her arm still hurt from tripping, but she didn't want him to know about that either.

"Why aren't all the dresses put away? Didn't I specifically tell you?" He snatched her up in a fist, her arms pinned to her sides. It was a tight grip, but it wasn't tight enough to hurt her.

"Y-You did, b-but I-I got a bit tired, a-and I'm terribly sorry!" She shouted up at him, fighting back tears, positively frightened. "P-Please, f-forgive me!" 

Seating himself on his bed, his grip tightened slightly around her small body. "You aren't eating until they're all put away. Even then, I don't think I'll give you anything but blended bread and water like the store did."

Her eyes widened. "B-But, th-that was bland, and horrible! P-Please, no, I-I won't do it again!" She pleaded, struggling in the tight grip.

"I have to have some form of punishment." Keeping his voice calm, he placed her back on the steps of the house. "Now put them away, and I'll be back to get you." Standing up, he shoved her with a finger and she fell onto her back, landing hard on the steps with a soft hiss of pain.

Molly watched as he left the room, tears going down her face as she pushed herself to her feet, walking over to the dresses and sat down, grabbing one and was about to take it in when she got an idea. "I-If I fold them first, they'll be easier to carry." She mumbled to know one, sitting down on the nightstand and slowly folded the dresses, her side hurting from him shoving her.

Callan meanwhile, was sitting downstairs in his living room, running his hand through his black hair. He did feel just a tad guilty for hurting her, but he quickly pushed that feeling away. "She's mine. I can do what I want with her." And with that, he stood, walking to the kitchen and looked at the dining table, his plate sitting with steak, lightly seasoned of course. Mashed potatoes with gravy, and a bit of buttered bread. 

"Perhaps I should apologize." He murmured to himself, looking at the meal for one before glancing at the stairs, going over and went back up them, walking to his room and stopped at the door. From inside, even though her voice was small, he could hear her talking. Was someone in the room with her? Who could she possibly be talking to?

He grabbed the doorknob and turned it, but when it moved slightly, she stopped talking, and he heard a door slam which he could only assume was the front door to the dollhouse. Slowly going into the room, he walked over to the small house, lightly tapping on the door. "Molly, I see you finished. Good little doll." 

When there was no reply, he grew slightly impatient. "Molly, get out here please." He folded his arms over his chest, foot tapping on the floor impatiently.

Molly was standing just inside the door, just where he wouldn't be able to see her if he looked through a window. Her heart was pounding. She was scared, he had actually hurt her! She had tried to forget how easy he could, but he shoved her, with a finger! But she knew she had to go out, or he could get angry. 

Slowly, she went back out of the house, looking up at him. Before she could get a word out, he large hand came down, picking her up by the back of her dress and set her in his palm. "Why didn't you come the first time I called?" 

"I-I was..." She thought for a moment, quickly. "Making myself more p-presentable. After a-all, you said you wanted me to l-look perfect." 

"Ah, very well then." Closing his hand around her, he left his room and went back to the kitchen, placing her on the table and sat down in his own chair, beginning to eat. After he took a bite of potatoes, his eyes wandered back over to his little doll, who was just watching him, but had quickly averted her eyes when he looked at her. "Are you going to eat? You're the one who wanted steak after all. Oh, but we forgot your things in the dollhouse."

Molly simply nodded, playing with the curled strand of hair hanging at the side of her face. Hesitantly, she moved towards the plate and ripped a small bit of bread off, making sure there was no butter on it as she then moved back, eating the chunk quietly.

Callan's chest tightened as he saw the food item she took, but once again shook that feeling away. "Well, if that's all you want so be it. You won't be eating anything else until breakfast. And once dinner is done, you're going right back into the house for the rest of the night. Am I understood?" He once again spoke firmly, eating and watching the tiny girl on his table.

With a nod, Molly looked away, finishing the chunk of bread. Though she was still hungry, she continued to tell herself she was full until she believed it. At least maybe, a good nights sleep would help. She'd have to see.

His Little Doll ((G/T))Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant