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Ashes Of Me - The Night of The Rape

WARNING - EXTREMELY triggering content - contains VIOLENCE, ABUSE and RAPE Abby has always felt like the problem child. Now amidst the budding angst and confusion of her teenage years, trouble finds her when she falls hopelessly in love with the handsome and mysterious Chris, a man she saw occasionally at school and knows virtually nothing about. What starts out as harmless infatuation materializes into something more concerning when she builds a lie or two to try and get his attention, starting with her age. Pretending to be older to tickle his interest, Abby is about to find out how dangerous it can be to play games with a such a captivating adult, one more than capable of beguiling her into surrendering all control. It's enough to make her wish she had never crossed his path, but now it's too late: with her lies, she's created the perfect condition, the perfect scene... the perfect victim. This is a story about innocence, infatuation, obsession, and ultimately, trauma.

worse_thanYou · Thành thị
Không đủ số lượng người đọc
66 Chs

Chapter 34th

Kneeling over me with his eyes all but pinning me down by themselves, Chris proceeded to pull his leather belt – it slid easily through the loops in his jeans with one steady swoop, his eyes bearing both a challenge and a threat as he handled it before tossing it to the side. It made my heart pound cowardly.

"Now that I assume we are better understood…" he presumed, leaning closer to me, his hand capturing the back of my knee.

'Understood' or not in our reckoning of sorts, that unfamiliar, unexpected touch put me out of myself when my mind was so inflamed by terrifying prospects. I wasn't in control and yet, like an animal, I kicked and squirmed anew with the very little strength I had left in me.

So little, in fact, he didn't even trouble himself with interrupting me. So little it made him laugh.

"Who are you trying to fool, huh?" he probed with a smile. "What is this? Some dumb hope you stubbornly sustain? Or is it just a façade to convince your dying pride that you're still trying? Fighting to the end… like a novel's hero!"

He mocked, chasing down my face with his to watch mine contort, paying for it with an affectionate, fascinated smile. I tossed my head to the side to try and stop providing him so much amusement, and he grabbed my jaw in his hand, moving it back into his view.

"You're adorable, really!" he remarked, caressing me delicately before I yanked my head free, gnarling and nearly foaming, making him laugh. "I'm sorry I didn't say it before and filled your sad little heart with bliss while you still adored me. Huh…" he chuckled, reminiscing "…I wonder if it's still there: all that blind, mad devotion. A puppy's love, really: are you sure you're not enjoying any of this, Abby?"

"Get off me… give me a knife… and we'll find out!" I grunted, grinding my teeth.

Chris chuckled irresistibly.

"You wild little thing, threatening like a bull. I'll get you to quiet down in a minute. Just enjoy it while it lasts: this little war you wage with me while you still believe you can sustain it."

With untroubled resolve at last, Chris pulled my legs apart, positioning his torso between them before I could force them to close again. I felt my heart climb up to my throat, and with panic taking over, I screamed – shrieked, really: a sharp cry of hope leaving me, defeat installing.

"It's all so new, isn't it?" he chuckled, mystified. "Every touch… this…" I felt his hand – large and warm – enveloping the back of my thigh, making me squirm. "Don't get me wrong, Abby: I've never been the type to lust over the uncharted innocence… it has never been the point!" His eyes chased mine whenever I tried to look away, pulling all they could from me "It's just… you!" his brows furrowed lightly, as if puzzled himself "I suppose watching you all these past days did something to me. I got to map your colorful reactions to the slightest of attentions, always wondering what was it I was seeing: that misleading fright here and there, the hesitations, the inconsistent words of unconditional surrender when the body stiffened between my very fingers… A peculiar charm you displayed for me at different occasions, one I could never tell exactly what reason it had for being, not realizing it was just the result of your body panicking while you pretended to be mature and in control of something you know so little about. A curious mingle… pleasant to watch, insufferable to resist, deprived of any real action. But it pays off at last, doesn't it?" He pulled the hair from my face, framing it in his hand "The wait… the yearning. We are finally all alone – let's see how you are going to react now, what emotions you'll display... You won't suck it up, will you Abby? Pretend it's fine? Pretend it's not scary… not your first time? Your eyes…" he looked at each of them individually "They are simply livid with fear!"

I felt the warm weight of his hand on the center of my chest, terrified of something else, but he merely felt for my heartbeat… For now, of course: there was no reason for relief, the brain was truly a most torturous device. Chris smiled serenely at my swirling predicaments, as if he could hear the thoughts unwinding in my head.

"See?" he sentenced "You can't lie to me." His handsome lips stretched; his condescending eyes sneered "Not when I know you… Not when I can feel you, not when I'm this close. Specially not once I'm inside you."

Inside me! Where all the secrets were, and all the pain, and all the shame! Panic reached new heights, and I thought – hoped! – my heart would spontaneously stop, completely spent! But after long seconds of exhaustless beating, it didn't. Dying, perhaps, was harder than I imagined – and yet Chris was willing to take me there!

And as if hinting at the threatened invasion, a smaller one was upon me: Chris leaned closer, pressed his lips to mine, pried them open with a sway of his mouth and kissed me. It shook me, then it made me dizzy. It felt like the movies – warm, confusing, eyes closed… Warmer when his tongue was in my mouth, warmer still when it explored it unimpeded. Kissing him made me weak. And it made me sad.

I could smell his breath, his intoxicating scent reminding me just why I fell into that trap in the first place, and why it hurt as it did…

It was then that a distant buzzing found its way into that quiet panic room where only the sound of our clothing rustling tensely against each other could be heard. It filled my head just in time to expel that tragic word it had been conjuring, the one that made me lose all my will to fight. I opened my eyes, the spell of defeat was broken, I listened attentively to it.

It came a second time: the chiming of the doorbell.