Isabella glares at him.
He shrugs. “She’s pretty much useless to us. Not sure why you even considered accepting her.”
She rolls her eyes and counters, “Men are useless.”
“Eve?” A man enters the room, and I straighten my back and my pulse begins to race. I know him. It’s the same guy I saw at Bill’s reception—Evan.
He uses his boot to kick her side, forcing her to roll onto her back. She tries to fight him, but she’s too weak. He crouches next to Eve, running his fingers over her chest and down her stomach before they slide between her legs.
She closes them, and he stands, laughing. “She’ll make the perfect whore,” Evan assures Isabella.
Her eyes narrow on him for a long second before she checks her watch. “She’s all yours. I’m leaving. I’ve got dinner plans with my husband in twenty.” She pats his back. “I’ll check in on her in a week to see how she’s doing.”
“Here.” The kid hands Evan a key.
Evan bends down and unlocks the thick metal collar around Eve’s neck before handing them both back to him. Then he picks up her limp body and carries her out of the room and down a brightly lit hallway.
“Pl-ease.” She finally speaks, her voice cracking.
My chest tightens at how weak she sounds. Where has she been up until this point? Where was she before this? I’d expected her to show up fighting mad. Angry and hating the world like the Everett I love. But this is different. She’s entering Dollhouse already broken—mentally and physically.
His laughter fills the hall. “I always knew you’d end up here, Eve.”
The footage then cuts to this room, and the door opens when he enters with her. Evan sets Eve in the makeshift bondage chair in the center of the room, and she shivers.
“There’s usually a series of events that must take place before this, but I think she’ll understand. We’ll go ahead and get started. I can clean you up later. You’re just going to get dirty anyway.”
Kneeling in front of her, he places her legs against the metal backing, bent at the knees. He fastens each ankle with a black leather restraint, locking both buckles in place. Then a second around her upper thighs. The leather pulls tight enough that you can see her ashen skin pinching.
She hasn’t even tried to fight him, but the action gets her attention.
“What—” comes her hoarse voice, and her eyes open, glancing around aimlessly.
She seems drunk. Possibly on drugs. She’s got bruises on various spots of her malnourished body. Short, shallow cuts cover her skin as well. They’re fresh. You can tell by the dried blood on her pale skin. Was this from her suicide attempt? They said she had tried. What the fuck did she do to try to end her life?
Another belt is placed across her lower waist, digging into her protruding hips. I notice she doesn’t have the three vertical lines I saw on theIsabellaor her butterfly tattoo yet.
He picks up her left arm and pushes it against the arm post that makes up half of the cross. He secures belts around her wrist and upper arm, palm out. Then does the same with the other.
Evan walks behind the device she’s strapped to and picks up a mask. Placing it over her head, he shoves it forward in order to secure it. It resembles a gas mask. It’s black, covers a large portion of her face, and comes to a point high up on her nose and down over her cheeks and mouth. She mumbles into it and blinks rapidly.
Crouching behind her, he turns on a tank that I’m assuming is oxygen. He then moves to stand in front of her and grips her chin, forcing her head back. “Breathe, Everett. Deep breaths. In through your nose and out through your mouth.”
Her wide eyes fill with tears and her body tenses.
“Breathe. Come on…deep breath in through your nose.” Her chest finally rises as it fills with air. “That’s good. Out through your mouth. Good girl,” he praises her. His hand drops from her chin and runs down her sternum. “Again.”
She does it again and her eyes begin to get heavy.
“That’s it.” His hand drops lower and moves between her parted legs. He starts to rub her pussy. “You’re doing sogood. I’m going to make you the best whore for them.You’re going to make such a pretty dolly.”
She blinks rapidly, and he pushes on her inner thighs, causing the legs of the chair to open wider. The clicking sound indicates it locks them in place with each inch until he’s happy to have them wide open.
Mumbling moans come from her mask-covered face while she fights the new position.
There’s a knock at the door, and he frowns but walks over to it. “Good evening, sir. I didn’t know we’d have a visitor.”
I stiffen when I see a man we all know enter. “Yes. Well, I wasn’t going to bother coming, but I needed to make sure she was delivered. See it for myself.”
