"Stop!"
Oh god! Why won't he stop?
His teeth scrape against her neck. His hands move across her chest. He burns her.
Felicity trembles and can't decide if it's from disgust or fear, but even in her current state, she rationalizes it's a spoonful of both, topped with a dollop of anger.
She was the one who was stupid enough to go inside the sketchy mobile crack house of the neighborhood pusher, albeit with more vertigo and less, well, crack.
She's jolted from her inner rambles by the Count's piercing laughter.
Her blood turns to ice; his hands push up her dress.
He keeps laughing, "As it turns out, jail is not as glamorous as you might think. No pretty blondes to, how should I put it, satisfy"
No!
"Well, we'll just have to fix that, now wont we?"
She's shaking and desperately trying to get out of her restraints. She's trying to lock her knees together as he pulls down her panties.
Please! Stop!
"The hood's girlfriend, all fresh and pink! Now that's a story for us villainous prison escapees"
He doesn't stop. Tears blur her vision until all she can see is his grin.
She screams
Oliver doesn't answer.