Jessica Aubrey sighed as she stared out the window of the van bringing her to her next "client". How had she ended up like this? She had a loving family, wonderful parents. So she had a rare disorder—who cares? It didn't affect her life too much. Pain was dulled to her, but she still felt enough to know when to get out. None of that explained why she was now headed to the house of a man who would no doubt use her, abuse her, and get all sorts of fluids on her. And for what? A little cash? Why couldn't she find a real job? Then again, she had tried for years, and no one would hire her. She'd tried to file a discrimination suit once or twice, but she never had any proof the employers were passing because of her condition. She wondered why she always mentioned CIPA on her applications...
"We're here. His name's Ricky. Go get 'em...or, you know, let him get you." Luca grinned, but Jessica did not. She hated Luca with a passion, though she really didn't know why. Luca was always around when she went out with clients, a buddy to support her if things went too wrong...so why did she want to put a pencil through her eye every time Luca spoke?
Jessica walked up to the front door, smoothed her tight skirt, and knocked several times. There was no answer, and Jessica hoped that meant she could move onto another client...maybe one who was a romantic instead of a savage. One who would take her on an actual date, like she hadn't had in years, with wine and Italian food and—but then the door opened, revealing a large, hairy man wearing nothing but a pair of denim shorts, which were pointless as his penis hung out of the zipper. "You da girl?" he asked gruffly. Jessica nodded shyly, and then screamed in shock as his large, rough hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her inside the door.
"Don't you want to, uh, freshen up first?" She really hoped to buy a little time to prepare herself for what was to come.
"'Fresh'n up?' What am I, a puss like you?" He grabbed her right breast and squeezed so hard that it hurt a little—which meant a normal woman would have been crying in pain already. "Lemme see 'em, honey. All four of 'em."
"Um...four?" she asked, genuinely confused; then again, it's not easy to think straight when you're in fear for your safety. No matter how often this happened, no matter how brave she was, Jessica could never get used to feeling like she was about to die. And worse, feeling like her body might just enjoy it a little before the end, against her will. Shame mixed with fear...it was horrible.
"Yeah, four, ya dumb bitch," Ricky said, and pushed her onto the dirtiest couch in the world with one hand on her chest.
"One," he said, as he reached a hand under her skirt. She knew she wasn't to do anything against his wishes, but she wished she could. She felt his dirty fingers push hard inside her, too hard. She felt stretched in the most uncomfortable way, but he only thrust a finger in once before continuing.
"Two," and suddenly, his thumb was pushing hard into another hole. Jessica wasn't a fan of anal, though many clients had used her there before. But this wasn't anal sex...this wasn't sex...this was a loveless, lustless, intimacy-free caricature of sex, a medical exam with no doctors. Jessica gasped each of the three times he pushed deeper, until his fingers were buried inside her holes.
"Three," he said, and used his free hand to reach under her shirt and again squeeze her tit until it bruised. He flicked her nipple with his thumb—and there it was. Her body's betrayal. She knew she shouldn't enjoy this, but as his thumb shot back and forth across her sensitive areola, she let out a moan of pleasure. "See, bitch? You like it 'cuz yer finally bein' used for what yer made fer." The interplay of his fingers pumping in and out of her vagina, in and out of her anus, over and across her nipples, was too much to bear, and she finally yelled out, "FUCK ME!"
Ricky grinned evilly. "Four," he said, and he quickly bent down and bit hard on her other nipple. Suddenly, Jessica was wrapping her legs around him and silently (or at least, without words under her moans and screams) pulling him in, begging for his dick inside her.
"Looks like you had fun." Luca grinned as Jessica walked back to the van, trying unsuccessfully to straighten her skirt and shirt, to hide the blood and the stains from other fluids that covered her clothing.
"I wouldn't call it that..." Jessica closed the van door behind her. "The guy...was beyond a creep. Beyond a monster. I've been objectified before, but that..."
"I heard you yelling, and it sounded like you liked it." Luca continued her slimy grin, and Jessica wished she had been the one dealing with Ricky instead. Luca could feel pain far more than she could, and if she knew how it hurt, she wouldn't be so smug.
"Can we just go? Please tell me the next client is gentler than that..."
"Well, before your next client, would you like a treatment?"
Jessica nodded. That sounded nice. A quick treatment, then she'd get back to work and get a few more dollars in her bank account. Maybe the treatment would help prepare her for whoever was next, too, and that would just be a bonus. She always enjoyed her treatments.
"Did I fall asleep?" Cassiopeia looked up at her friend Wis with a smile. Then she winced in pain as she looked down at her breasts and reached down to touch her crotch. "It...hurts..."
"You fell asleep for a little while," he answered. "Why don't you go see Dr. Shelly? She can help you feel better."
Cassie tried to smile, but only partially succeeded, as she ambled out of the room filled with equipment and headed to the infirmary. Wis watched as she left and hated everything he saw, especially when he saw Luca enter the room.
"Oh, don't get so down, loverboy. You knew what the client wanted before Jessica was even a reality." Luca chuckled dismissively.
"That doesn't mean I have to like it...and that's a lot of blood; where were you when she was being abused?"
"In the van. She was fine, didn't even scream in pain all that much."
"That's because she couldn't feel the pain, but she was still getting hurt..."
"And whose fault is that? Anyway, she'll be fine with a few bandages and some off-duty rest. How about you focus on whichever Blanky is up next?"
"How many times have I told you not to call them that?!" Wis yelled angrily. To him, the term "Blanky" was as offensive as the word "retard" or "schizo". Maybe worse, because the dolls couldn't possibly understand that they were being mocked. But they were still people, still humans, locked under an imposed mask of amnesia, and they deserved humane treatment.
"Oh, about a million, but if I haven't listened to you so far, when will you get the hint?" Luca chuckled and strolled out of the imprint room without a care.
Wis had tried to report Luca to Foster many times, but Foster stood by the idea that until a doll's life was unnecessarily placed in serious danger, Luca was doing her job well. He didn't care that she was sexually assaulting them around the Dollhouse. He didn't care that she couldn't give a shit about their safety unless it endangered her job. He didn't care that she treated them like inanimate objects when they weren't imprinted. He was so results-oriented that none of it mattered to him.
Wis sighed, knowing Luca was right: there was nothing he could do. Not without getting arrested, at least. He opened the file folder to read up on the next engagement; this one would be going to Lyra. At least it was much more toned-down than Cassie's recent activities, if a bit sadder: "Regular client. Requests Lyra. Lost daughter Susan three years ago; requests an active to be Susan so he can celebrate her birthday with her. Video footage, description, and diary entries provided for reference." Well, Wis would have to spend some time reading and watching all of the reference material to truly get a feel for who Susan was, but the entire thing just depressed him. He understood how hard it must be to lose a loved one, but in his opinion, getting a doll to be a cheap copy would only prevent them from moving on in a very unhealthy manner. But it was his money, so he got to decide how to spend it; Wis prepared for a binge research session.