Meatball Ron

Dollbreaker Arc 2 Part 1

Mia heard the bone fracture before she felt it. Sharp pain lanced through her arm as she slumped down the glass window of her apartment to the soft rug floor. She looked up towards the neon lights of the city’s red-light district shining garishly into her room. She could only look for a moment before she had to turn her attention to the far more pressing problem of the hundred-and-twenty-kilogram juggernaut running amok in her room. She pulled her robe around her as she struggled to stand.

“Ron. . .” she said. “You need to be a little gentler. I’m pretty sure you’ve just broken a bone.”

A slow grin spread across the corpulent man’s face.

“My session, my rules, right?” he said. He took a step towards her. “I’ve still got thirty minutes left, yeah? We’ll make all your dreams come true. . .that’s PIE’s guarantee, isn’t it?”

“Within reason, Ron,” she said. “We’re still a therapy station. You know the policy. No injuries without consent. And you definitely didn’t have it when you tossed me into a window. Rough play isn’t even on your service card.”

Ron took another step towards her. Mia’s right arm hurt too much to move, but she raised her left hand up to her ear.

“Go ahead. Call for help. No one’s gonna come for an abomination like you.”

“Abomination?” Mia raised an eyebrow. “That’s new. Never took you for a God-Botherer. They just call me Jezebel. Whore’s the favourite, usually.”

“Maybe if that’s all you were, I wouldn’t bother,” he said. “But you, Mia. You are something so much worse. Well worth the price to do something to make the world a little cleaner.”

Another step. Mia tapped her earlobe and a tinny voice echoed in her eardrum.

“I notice a spike in your vitals, ma’am. Do you require assistance?”

“Need a client removed, Bob! Protocol 3!” The last word came out as a shriek as Bob sprang on her.

“You think that clunking bot gonna help you?!”

He barrelled into her, easily bearing her to the ground. She tried to drive a knee into his crotch, but the man was simply too large. She couldn’t move her leg an inch as he straddled her, locking his hands around her throat. The pressure of him against the bare skin of her knees made her sick to her stomach. And that was before the pressure.

A wave of terror washed over her as he started squeezing. She slapped at his chest, but she might as well have been trying to move a mountain. She desperately choked for air as her consciousness began to slip and her visions ran dark around the edges.

Then, Ron let out a noise that could be only described as a discordant cluck. The pressure left her neck as she watched metallic fingers closed around the front of his neck. The pressure on Mia’s neck ceased abruptly as he was pulled away. He didn’t so much get off her as he was hurled off, his body tumbled backwards into the air. Mia curled up on the ground, gasping for air. When she looked up, she saw Bob-3, her AI receptionist, fully engaged in the delicate art of belligerent client removal. Which, in a man like Bob’s case, meant beating the man into a pulpy, quivering pile of submission.

“Who invited you, Bot?” he said. “I’ve still got half a session left.”

“I’m afraid closer inspection of our records show that your therapy access was revoked last month across the system, Mr. Belchick.” Ron took a swing at Bob-3 which Bob swatted away as if the man was a kindergartener. The AI Doll’s hand closed over his wrist as he applied the “Persuader”. Ron howled in pain and rage as Bob squeezed.

“Let go of me, ya fucking toaster!” he raged, trying to pull away. Mia watched Bob-3 raise his other first and pull Ron in. She shut her eyes then, but she could still hear the crunch as Ron’s nose broke. When she opened them again, she saw Ron teetering. Bob simply bent over and hoisted the man over his shoulders. The whole scene reminded Mia of someone sticking a twig into a marshmallow. Bob turned to her then, blue quartz eyes flickering as he scanned her. He wasn’t going to like what he saw.

When the hard, gravelly voice of his law enforcement protocols kicked in, she knew she was right.

“Ms. Richards. You have several lacerations, bruises, and a fractured arm. Is Mr. Belchick the confirmed assailant?”

“Yes, Bob.”

The eyes flickered red for a moment. As an AI, Bob wasn’t supposed to have moods, but Mia would have been willing to bet her last credit that he felt some kind of way about men like Bob.

“Please designate an appropriate punishment.”

Ron groaned as Bob’s grip tightened. Mia gritted her teeth at the pain as she pulled her robe closed.

“A more severe punishment can be administered if Ms. Richards deems it appropriate.” Bob said. Mia might have imagined it, but she might have heard encouragement in its voice. “It may help deter future offenders.”

Bob may have been just a Doll, but he was still an AI. And as much as people wanted to believe AIs were impartial, they were also learners. Ron wasn’t the first creep Bob had pulled off her. Years of having to do it for Mia have given him a unique protective attitude. And honestly? More than a little vengeful.

“Eye for an eye protocol, Bob.”

She watched as Bob reached up, closed his metal hand on Ron’s arm, and squeezed until she heard the snap. The man howled as if he was being murdered.

“Ok, Bob 3, that’s enough. Please remove Mr. Belchick.”

Bob’s quartz eyes returned to the soft blue colours as he carried the now very much compliant Ron out of the building.

“Ron,” she said. The man looked up at her, hatred gleaming in his dark eyes.

“Don’t come back. I can’t promise Bob will show the same restraint next time.”

“Abominations protecting abominations. . .” he grunted. “God forgive us for the sinful world.”

“That’s pretty hypocritical for a man doing what you were doing a few minutes ago.”

“I didn’t come here to partake of your wiles, harlot! God demands that you be purged from our society.”

“Never took you for one of those. . .Bob- I want him gone.”

“Yes, Ms. Richards. I will help you into your med chamber when I return.”

She nodded, considering telling Bob 3 to hit him again. She hated that damn chamber, and now, she would have to spend an entire afternoon in status fluid. Fuck you, Ron. Seriously, fuck right off.

Still, it may not have been a bad idea. Ron’s. . .attention had left her exhausted. After Bob had carried out the still struggling Ron, Mia eased herself back onto the king bed. She did a quick look over for any other injuries. Scratched and bruises lined her body where Bob put his disgusting meaty hands on her. Sighing, she drifted off the sleep. Time with a creep like Bob would make anyone want for a little escape.

Just one more month though. Just one more month and she was out of the program. Holding on to the comfort of that thought, she drifted off to sleep.

I hope you enjoyed this installment of Dollhouse. If so, please feel free to feed my Stationery Goblin.