A/N: Natalie's trauma is beginning to take hold more firmly, so enjoy :-)
Read Part 27 Here or Part 29 Here.
Or you can find the Masterlist Here.
Content: kidnap whump, female whumpee, female whumper, care whumper, intimate whumper, Stockholm syndrome, creepy whumper, psychological trauma, emotional trauma, intimate touching, psychological break, emotional whump
As always, please let me know if I miss any tags.
Word Count: 2222
Natalie normally didn’t remember much of her dreams, maybe a feeling or a singular detail, but nothing beyond that. She only ever seemed to remember nightmares. She remembered this dream, though. She was in a bar dancing with someone, but their face was a blur. They were laughing and smiling together. Her friends laughed and smiled too. Then they were waving, saying goodbye to someone. Her friends were saying goodbye to her, she realised, and the stranger with their arm around her waist. She wanted to go with her friends, but her legs wouldn’t move. The stranger whirled Natalie around the dance floor until she was dizzy. She couldn’t even see the dance floor anymore. She wanted to go home. She tried to pull away, but her hands were bound. They were outside now. No, she was in a car. She couldn’t move. She was going home. The scene kept changing. She couldn’t keep up. The stranger was there again. She was carrying her, welcoming her home. She was home. But it didn’t feel like home. This wasn’t her home. Wait, it wasn’t a stranger, she knew that face. It was Evelyn.
Natalie jolted awake. Her heart thundered in her chest as she pulled the covers closer. Thank god it was only a dream. She wasn’t really locked in a basement, she was at home in her nice, cosy bed. She wasn’t a prisoner or a victim, she was home. She calmed her breathing and settled herself again. It was all just a bad dream. She’d never even met Evelyn.
But this wasn’t her bed. The pillows were softer than her old ratty ones. The covers were bigger and weightier, warmer and more comfortable. This room wasn’t her bedroom. It felt familiar, though, as if she’d been in here before. Where was she?
Natalie sat up and looked around. The room had some gorgeous furniture, a beautiful fireplace, and three closed doors. Almost instinctively, she knew which one was the exit, but something told her it would not open, not for her at least. Instead, she could examine the rest of her surroundings. The fireplace had two cosy chairs beside it and a little coffee table with a delicate china set on it. It looked similar to her grandmother's fine china set that she’d never been allowed to touch growing up. Natalie could imagine herself curling up in one of those chairs with a blanket and a cup of tea, reading until the fire burned out.
Off to the side was one of the other doors. Natalie felt like she’d been through this one before. It led to a dressing room or a walk-in wardrobe, something along those lines. She didn’t fancy exploring in there. The other door, though, she’d never been through. It had been closed the last time she’d come in here. When Evelyn had brought her in here.
She approached the door nervously, planning on trying the handle. Was she allowed in here? Surely there would be some kind of sign if she wasn’t. Or maybe she was meant to just know. Evelyn could get angry if she did open it without permission. But if she wasn’t allowed in, she knew it wouldn’t open. Maybe she shouldn’t try it, just in case; This could be a test. But what if Evelyn wanted her to explore? Her hand hesitated on the handle before she took a deep breath and opened the door. It wasn’t locked. Natalie stepped into a pristine bathroom. The sight of a proper toilet filled her with more joy than she had thought possible. The cell downstairs didn’t have a proper toilet, just a hole in the ground she’d had to squat over. She’d felt disgusting.
“A-am I allowed… to use… C-can I shower?” Natalie wasn’t sure if Evelyn was listening, but she knew Mina would be. The AI never stopped listening.
“This bathroom is for your personal use. You are allowed to use it to shower, freshen up, and relieve yourself.” Mina’s detached, artificial voice sounded over the speakers.
“Are there cameras? Is… Is Evelyn watching?” Natalie knew already there would be cameras, she would never be allowed in here alone if there weren’t.
“Evelyn is currently busy. She has been informed you are awake.” Mina’s response didn’t really answer Natalie’s question but she accepted it nonetheless.
“Th-thank you, Mina.” Natalie began preparing to shower for the first time in who knew how long. She knew today was Saturday, but did that mean she’d been here one week or two? Had she been here a month or more already? No, that would be impossible. She’d have had to have slept through weeks if she’d been here that long.
“You’re welcome, Natalie.” Mina’s voice broke her from her spiral.
Natalie took a moment trying to work out the shower before asking Mina, who simply turned it on for her and adjusted the temperature. The water rushing over her was incredible. She savoured the feel of it rushing down her body, washing away the grime and smell of the last few days. On the side were different scented shampoos, conditioners, body washes and more. She’d never seen such an array, there were more choices than she’d ever seen before. It felt insane, they were all brands she’d never been able to justify wasting money on before, so absurdly expensive. Should she use them, though? Mina had told her this was for her personal use, so surely that meant she could. Being clean and smelling nice for Evelyn would surely be a good thing - hopefully, it would be seen as her being obedient.
Natalie settled on a mango-scented shampoo and conditioner and a passionfruit body wash. She’d always loved those together, hopefully, Evelyn would like the combination as well. A small voice in Natalie’s head told her she didn’t care what Evelyn thought, or at least she shouldn’t, but the water drowned it out. She spent ages simply enjoying the feeling of being clean, of getting to be clean. She wanted to live in the shower for as long as possible. She never wanted to leave.
“Evelyn will be joining you soon.” Mina’s voice informed her as the water stopped abruptly, reminding Natalie who she had to thank for the luxury of even being allowed to shower in the first place.
Natalie wrapped herself tightly in a towel as she proceeded to where she knew the walk-in wardrobe was. She opened the door and padded towards the dressing table, seeing a note propped against the mirror with the damned collar resting against it. She hesitated as her fingers reached for the note, not wanting to feel the collar again. She could already feel it suffocating her from there, she didn’t need to touch it.
‘Feel free to choose an outfit, but you’ll only be allowed out of your room while wearing this. Evelyn x.’
Natalie reread the note, trying to determine if there were any underlying orders other than to wear the collar. She couldn’t find any, but she hated it anyway. The note called this room hers, and Mina had said the bathroom was, too. The basement cell she’d been kept in, that hadn’t been hers, that had simply been a prison. This room, with all of its luxury, was apparently hers. It didn’t feel like it. It was certainly beautiful, but it lacked personality. It lacked proper comfort. Natalie might be able to imagine ways of making it hers, but that would mean she planned on staying. She’d had time to think now that the shower had woken her up, and she wasn’t staying.
Natalie took a deep breath and then another. She could pretend to be as broken and submissive as she’d felt last night. She could pretend she believed all the things Evelyn had told her and made her say, but she knew it was all wrong. She knew. Pretend. She would pretend. She would escape.
Natalie put the note down, used a towel to dry her hair as best she could, and then found the hairbrush Evelyn had left for her. She quickly ran it through her hair until it looked neat for what must be the first time in days - weeks? Now to choose clothes. She rummaged around all the drawers and shelves, finding more and more options in blues and purples. All of the clothing was short or tight or revealing. Evelyn had known exactly what she wanted from Natalie when she’d picked this wardrobe of clothing. Finally, Natalie selected a loose-fitting top with a pair of short denim shorts. They looked good together, they just weren’t the kind of clothes she’d have ever chosen for herself under any other circumstance.
Finally, Natalie sat staring at the collar, not wanting to touch it. She knew Evelyn would find her like this, see the hesitation and force her to wear it anyway. Technically, she hadn’t been ordered to wear it yet, only told she wouldn’t be able to leave the room until she did. Evelyn would still see it as defiance. She traced her finger along the inside of it, feeling the slight prod of the prongs that had delivered her a shock last night. If they were just slightly longer, she’d be able to snap them off; at least then, the collar would just be humiliating rather than painful. But she had no doubt Evelyn would be ruthless if she dared even try to break them.
She was still holding the collar in her hands when she heard the door open. She couldn’t bring herself to put it on, not by her own hand. Evelyn would have to do it herself. She could hear the slow, deliberate footsteps behind her approaching. Each step sent a shiver through Natalie, but still her eyes were trained on the collar, trying to will herself to do something with it: put it on or put it down, anything but holding it. The mirror showed Evelyn’s figure getting closer and closer. The air behind her shifted, a waft of Evelyn’s perfume catching Natalie’s nose: the same one she’d worn that night in the bar. And then there was a hand on Natalie’s shoulder. Firm enough, she knew better than to ignore it.
She let out a small gasp at the touch, but Evelyn’s smile told her this was welcomed. Natalie forced herself not to flinch away even as an icy dread spread through her veins. Evelyn wanted her broken and compliant. She would pretend to be exactly that. Instead, Natalie made herself look up at Evelyn through the mirror with big, innocent eyes. She tried not to squirm under the assessing gaze of her captor, judging what she’d chosen to wear, though she felt herself tremble a little. Get it together. Evelyn needed to think she was broken, not breaking.
“Do you need a hand with that, my love?” Evelyn purred, reaching her other hand out for the collar.
Natalie nodded shyly as she handed it to Evelyn, still trying to look sweet and cute. She knew Evelyn wanted her small and fragile. She knew Evelyn enjoyed breaking her, but she also loved it when she was already pliant to Evelyn’s every whim. Natalie hated pretending, almost as much as she hated how easily it came to her. She had played this game for too long, and Evelyn was still winning. Natalie knew Evelyn needed to believe she was winning, but it felt as though even in pretending she was handing Evelyn that victory. What if she pretended so well she convinced herself she wanted this?
No. No. No.
She couldn’t let her thoughts spiral. She couldn’t go down that rabbit hole. Not when her sanity was at stake. She had to cling to the thought of escape. She had to remember this was all pretend. She had to. It would be the only way to survive.
She felt her breath hitch in her throat as Evelyn’s fingers traced along her skin, so lightly it almost didn’t feel like a threat. But then, the collar clicked shut, and a phantom tightness coiled around her lungs, squeezing, suffocating. Natalie had to fight herself to keep from ripping the damned thing away. Instead, she closed her eyes and froze in place, trying not to fall into a never-ending panic. She was fully at Evelyn’s mercy, something she wasn’t sure Evelyn even knew the meaning of.
“That’s better. It really draws the outfit together.” Evelyn’s gaze drifted across Natalie’s body, lingering too long on every piece of exposed skin. Natalie wanted to scream. She didn’t. “How does a late breakfast sound? I’m thinking waffles.”
“S-sounds good.” Natalie wished her voice hadn’t faltered. If she were really broken, surely she wouldn’t be nervous.
She needed to get her dread and panic under control or Evelyn would see right through the act. Then again, Evelyn enjoyed her panic, she revelled in it. If she hid that dread too much, Evelyn might amplify the torment just to see more. Evelyn had said from the start, ‘I want to see it when you suffer. If I don’t see it, things will get worse until I do.’ Natalie had broken this rule, rule two, the most. Her entire act was breaking rule two. And true to her word, Evelyn had made her suffer for it.
