Page 4 of Dollhouse

Hate for myself for being so weak.

It's the only thing keeping me going these days.

The thought of my death brings a sadistic smile to my face. My thoughts keep taking me back to it as I sit at the nail salon in the pedicure chair, getting my nails and toes done, like I do every Saturday.

My best friend, Delilah, is beside me this week. We had lunch, and now we're getting our nails done. She picked a neon purple, and as usual, I chose pink.

Wearing pink fits the Barbie doll aesthetic. I'm the perfect little blonde Barbie doll wife for Seb, and he's the devil himself.

"I swear, you're the only girl I know who’s so obsessed with pink," Delilah chirps, holding her hand out in front of her to admire her new neon purple gel nails. Her nails are always different colors, and I won’t lie but I'm envious of her for it.

How fucking sad is that? It's a god damn nail polish, and here I am, too afraid to even try anything different because I know how Sebastian will react. God, I'm so pathetic I actually laugh at myself and at what has become of me.

Delilah raises her perfectly threaded eyebrows, looking over at me.

"Oh, girl, I hate pink," I answer with a smile, holding my hand out in front of me to inspect my freshly painted nails as I lose myself, remembering what happened the first time I disobeyed Sebastian.

* * *

"Where were you?I called, but you didn't answer." Seb's dark eyes stared at me from across the room. I jumped, startling in surprise. I didn't hear him when I entered the house. He was perched at the kitchen table, polishing his golf clubs to prepare for his colleagues' weekend golf trip.

"I'm sorry, Seb. I was at the nail salon, and then I went grocery shopping. My phone must've been on silent." I set the brown paper shopping bags on the kitchen island, cautiously unloading the bags of groceries. The darkness in his eyes chilled my skin, and I kept one eye on him as I put the items away in the fridge and pantry.

"Must've been on silent," he mocked with an amused laugh, clearly not believing a word I was saying.

"It won't happen again. I'm sorry." I turned to face him, watching his jaw clench as he stared at me.

"Good, you know I worry about you." He stood, walking toward me with a stoic expression. He took me in his arms and stole a kiss that left me dazed and breathless. His fingers raked over my hair, and a satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"Do you like it?" I asked, raising my own hands to smooth out my freshly colored hair. We decided, well, Seb decided that I should trim my hair and go a lighter shade of blonde. So, I did. I had an inch cut off, and my blonde hair was even blonder and fell into perfect layers.

He nodded his approval. "I like your hair." A pause, then his eyes followed the movements of my hands. "What's this? I told you to get pink." He grabbed my hand, inspecting my freshly painted cherry red nails.

"I wanted to try something new. You know I don't even like pink." He shoved my hand away so quickly you'd think it burned him.

"Only whores wear red. Are you a fucking whore, Lee?" I gasped, staring at him in disbelief. "Answer me. I said, are you a whore?" I didn't respond. I kept staring up at him speechless, watching his face contorting into something demonic. "Answer me!" he roared, the back of his hand catching me by surprise. With wide eyes, I stood there silently, my hands covering my now stinging cheek.

"N-no, Seb. I'm not a whore." My voice was so small, so pathetic. In a flash, I was on the floor on my back while he straddled my waist. His bruising grip on my wrist caused me to cry out. One hand wrapped around my wrist while the other squeezed my fingers together. Screams filled the air along with an audible pop. Those screams were mine. I was choking on my tears, my voice aching from screaming like a woman possessed.

"That'll teach you to do what the fuck I say next time. Do you understand?" I couldn't speak, and that angered him further. He left me for a second, and then I felt the coldness of the golf club connecting with my skin. “You are a dirty fucking whore.” The cold club trailed underneath my dress, and I felt it against my core.

“I’m not a whore! Don’t touch me!” My protests and screams were useless at that point.

Seconds later, my panties were gone, and the metal club was shoved inside of me, and he fucked me ruthlessly with it while I screamed and cried.

Meanwhile, he got off to my screams. Sebastian jerked himself off as he violated me with a golf club.

"Who wears red?" he asked calmly after he spilled his cum on my face.

"Whores! Whores wear red!" I screamed.

"Are you a whore?"

"No! No! No! I'm not a whore!" He stilled, his lips stretched across into a sinister grin, and then he removed the club from my aching pussy.

"You, my wife, will wear pink, and do as you're fucking told." He tossed the club next to my head. "Clean yourself up, you dumb cunt." He spat on me as if to show me how truly beneath him I was.

I lay there, on our kitchen floor, curled in a fetal position, my core bloody and aching, and my hand throbbing, as my ring and pinky finger were limp.

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