[AUTHORS'S NOTE: this chapter is a violent rape scene. It is not something "beautiful" or "okay" or "good." It's a torture scene. People don't always realize that rape isn't all cut and dry, even rape survivors. I know from experience that some of it can feel good or bad to varying degrees, but regardless of how it goes down, or how many time you come, if you kiss them or not, laugh or cry, deliver or receive, if you felt sexy or ugly, if you were injured or if you injured them, it's torture all the same. Never assume that the entire ordeal was the most horrible thing ever, because that makes the survivor/victim feel ashamed for feeling pleasure. Pleasure and rape are not dichotomies. I won't blame anyone for enjoying rape fantasies— I use fantasies to help process my abuse in a way that gives me control— so don't feel guilty if you do, especially if you're a survivor/victim. Enjoy the fantasy, but don't ever think that rape is good or okay.
That being said, I write this story with the idea of the main character being 16-going-on-seventeen, but I write it with her being older than that for legal and ethical reasons. I write it that way because people seem to treat rape at different ages in different ways, which is a topic that comes up later on. The character is a extremely naive young girl with experience that she doesn't know how to wield. I'm trying to avoid writing her as a sympathy-sue, but be warned: she's a sympathy-sue. I try to balance this out with realistic, NOT miraculous, character development.
This is my first time writing anything this long, and the first time I've writing a fanfic! Please leave feedback and advice, and tell me what you want me to write! I won't use all ideas, but demographics would be great. The entire series is still under edit and retrocon, so check back every once in a while if you want.
SPOILER/TRIGGER WARNING:She's been groomed from an early age to tolerate abuse, which affects her decisions regarding the current abuse. She deals first-hand with rape, suicide, self-harm, childhood abuse, child porn, violence, and mental health issues, etc. She deals second-hand with rape, child prostitution, drug abuse, murder, violence, death, mental health, suicide, etc.]
Enjoy responsibly.
—Queerception]
She was huddled up in an alley, near the entrance. She had been evicted earlier that week and didn't have a place to go. She was cold, and the forecast was for rain. She only had a backpack and a suitcase to store her belongings in. She sold everything else she had, but even that wasn't much. She had already sold all her furniture to pay rent, and then most of her personal item after that. She had stuffed as many clothes as she could into her baggage, but that wasn't much. She didn't have a phone. She had a zune and a charger for it along with headphones. She had fallen asleep listening to it, wrapped up in the one blanket she had brought with her. She didn't have a pillow.
When she woke up later, her bags were gone. Her money, her birth certificate, her SSN, her visa and passport, her gun, her medications, everything. Gone. She now had nothing but music and a blanket.
She was too tired to cry. She hadn't gotten much sleep and had cried enough for a year.
She was nodding off again when someone spoke to her. "Yew need a place to stay?"
She looked up. She couldn't see him very well— it was as dark as it gets in the city— which, admittedly, isn't very dark at all— and the streetlamp was behind him. It had started raining. She could see an inverted cross hanging from a chain around his neck.
She shook her head. She didn't want to go home with a strange man if she could avoid it.
"I sincerely doubt that, based look alone. Yew can come with me."
"I don't have any money."
"Ohhh, that's awlright. I'm doing this out of the kindness of my heart. It's too cold out for yew t'be out here in the rain." His word were drawn out and a little slurred.
She hesitated, then nodded. "Okay."
He helped her up.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
He smiled. She could see that his teeth were crooked and pointy. Probably a mod. She'd seen it done before. He was missing a few and looked a little familiar.
They walked around the block to his car. She didn't know what model it was. It was a common one. She got in.
They hit the road and he didn't say anything for a while. Then he asked, "Sooo, what's yehr name?"
She debated over which name to tell him. "Noble."
He let out a short laugh. "Now, that's a first."
"Yeah, well, my parents were kinda strange." She took out some chapstick from one of the pockets of here cargo pants and put some on. She put it back in her pocket and rubbed her temples.
"Yew awright?" he asked.
"Ugh. Yeah, I guess. I have a major headache. I haven't gotten much food or water lately and it's taking a toll on me."
He laughed again. "Yew've got an interesting accent."
"I'm American."
"Hm." A brief pause. "There's a bottle of headache pills in the glove depar'ment. You can take a couple if you want."
That was awful nice of him. She opened the glove department door and grabbed the orange bottle. She read the label. "This is a prescription for… Stuart Pot. S'that you?"
"Nah, that's my bandmate's, but he won't mind. It's Vicodin."
She poured out two. She'd had a friend once who took Vicodin for a broken leg and had told her it was pretty effective. Another friend had made a market out of it, which convinced her of its effectiveness more than a broken leg.
Silence again. Then, "M'name's Murdoc."
She laughed. "Murdoc? Now that'sa first," she said, imitating his words.
"Yeah, well, my parents were a little strange, too."
Silence for a while. She noticed he was swerving a bit. "Are you sure you're alright to drive?"
"Nah." He grinned.
"Oh." She didn't feel comfortable with that, but didn't have a choice.
They sat in silence for a while. They were a bit far from the city.
"You look familiar."
"Well, I am in a band. Ever heard of Gorillaz? I'm the bassist."
"Never heard of you, but I guess I've seen your picture."
He seemed dissatisfied with that answer. They rode in silence for a good bit before they reached… a house? She wasn't sure what to call it. There was a Winnebago outside it.
He got out of the car. She followed. She was starting to feel the side effects of the Vicodin. She stared up at the building.
He gestured dramatically to the large building. "This," he said, "is Kong studios. The Winne's where we're gunna be sleeping."
She wasn't sure if she was comfortable with sleeping in the same room as him, but she figure he had a couch or a cot in there for her. She followed him into the trailer. It smelt like old laundry and had an unfamiliar musk to it. She looked around for a cot but only saw the one bed. The clock said 5:36 AM.
"Where am I sleeping?" she asked. She felt him brush up behind her.
"Yeh're sleeping with me, pet," he responded. He reached around and put one hand at her neck, the other grabbed her breast.
Her heart started pounding. She didn't know what to do. She was frozen for a moment, then elbowed him in the gut and pushed him away. She wasn't very strong. "Stop!"
He slapped her, hard, knocking her back a step. He waited a second, and then again slapped her, and then once more. He put his hand at her throat again.
"Yew don't have a choice here, sweetie." He growled. He pushed her onto the bed.
She tried squirming away, only to be punched, hard. She cried out. There was a ringing in her ears. She could hear her heartbeat. She was on the edge of slipping into a flashback. She was woozy from the Vicodin.
He pushed her down on the bed and slid his free hand up her shirt and grabbed her breast again. "Mmmm, we're gunna have some fun, now aren't we?"
She whimpered and tried to push his hand away, only to earn another slap. She cried out again. "Stop!" she screeched.
He punched her again, still holding her neck. "This'll be a lot easier for the both of us if yew behave!" he yelled back. "Stay still," he hissed.
She stopped moving and tried not to cry, but she already felt tears slipping down the sides of her face. She whimpered again.
He started squeezing the sides of her neck. Her vision started to fade. "Yeh're going to behave, aren't yew, pet?" he relaxed his grip but kept his hand where it was.
She nodded, tears streaming now.
"I can't heeeear yew!"
"Yes, I'll behave!"
"That's 'yes, sir' to yew!" he yelled.
"Yes, sir!" she obeyed.
He let go of her neck and turned to fish around in a drawer, pulling out a condom. He unzipped and removed his jeans and shirt, then his briefs. He didn't put the condom on yet. "Take off yehr clothes."
She sat up and undressed herself, not wanting to be slapped again. She wrapped her arms around herself, ashamed. The pain was getting to her and, combined with the pills, she felt herself slipping into a high. She wouldn't be having any flashbacks now.
He looked at her legs and stomach and saw her scars. "Oh, yeh're no stranger to pain, huh?" he slurred. He got on the bed and sat against the wall, pulling her up in front of him, facing in the same direction in an embrace. His body was pressed up against hers.
She could feel his cock against the small of her back. It was hard and she could feel it twitching in time to his pulse. She was painfully aware of every sensation—the smell of the room, the feel of his legs at her sides, the cold metal of his necklace, the sound of his breath speeding up. She could feel his heart beating faster in his chest, in time with the pulsing of his cock.
His hands traveled to her breasts, squeezing her nipples hard. She cried out as he pinched harder. He stopped after a moment and started massaging her breasts. One hand slid down between her legs. He rubbed the outside of her crotch for a bit, then slipped two fingers into her slit.
She whimpered again. "Please, stop, please please please, stop…"
He cackled. "Nah, this is too good for me to stop. Yeh're quite wet, aren't yew?" he sneered. He started rubbing her clit.
She twitched and moaned. She couldn't help it, it felt too good. She hated it. She was ashamed of herself. She didn't want this. She moaned as he continued to rub her clit in circles. She put a hand to her mouth, trying to quiet herself.
He laughed again, then began pinching her nipple again. He grunted as she cried out again. He let go of her breast and clawed his nails across her chest, then down her side, then to her chest again. He repeated the cycle, scratching her skin and leaving red marks, eventually drawing blood. He didn't stop. She started shrieking in pain as he scratched more. He continued to rub her clit.
She was high on the pain and Vicodin. She was getting wetter by the moment. She was ashamed of herself for feeling this way. It was torture and he knew it.
He was doing this on purpose, tormenting her, breaking her psyche. He had experience with pleasuring girls, but doing it by force was something new to him— at least, new to do it to a woman— and he was finding that he simply loved it. He slipped a finger into her.
She let out a short scream. It hurt. She had never had penetrative sex, though she wasn't a virgin. She'd only ever been with girls and chose not to go into penetration until she was ready. She'd never been very active, so her hymen was still intact. "Stop, please!" She yelled the words into her hand.
He could feel her hymen and slipped his finger out of her, returning to her clit. He murmured into her ear, "I'll go easy on yew." He licked his long tongue up her neck and nibbled at her ear.
She nodded, still covering her mouth. She arched her back as he rubbed her faster.
He continued this for a while. Again, this was something he was experienced with, and he knew how to make the process of a girl losing her virginity a little easier.
She felt the intensity increasing as she came closer to orgasm. She moaned louder and faster, panting. She bit her hand, still trying to stifle the noises she was making.
His cock twitched against her back and he grunted along. He wanted to be inside her but waited. He sucked at her neck in different places, leaving a trail of hickeys.
She came, yelling. It was intense and spread through her body, but it wasn't very deep. He bit her neck as she arched her back away from him, the feeling sweeping in waves through her body. Her yells turned to a scream as he bit harder.
He didn't stop biting until he drew blood. He let go, licking and sucking at the wound. He loved the taste of her blood.
She panted and gasped as she came down from the orgasm. Eventually her breathing steadied somewhat.
He moved her around, propping her against the wall. He trailed kisses along her jaw line, down her neck, then down to her breasts, sucking and nibbling at her nipples. He continued down her stomach down to her legs. He licked her inner thigh and left a few hickeys. He bit the other leg, where the scars were puffy and red.
She screamed again, but didn't push him away. I t felt good and she hated him for it. She wanted to kill him but knew she couldn't, neither physically or mentally.
He stopped when he broke skin, doing the same as he did at her neck, licking and sucking. He trailed more kisses up to her wet slit. He slipped his little finger inside her experimentally to see if it hurt her.
She cried out a bit. She had loosened up from the foreplay, but it was still tender.
He licked around her entrance, feeling her shudder. He tested out sucking at her clit.
She cried out. She was still incredibly sensitive from orgasming.
He continued licking and sucking. He reached up and clawed at her still-raw sides.
She screamed and pushed his hands away. He sat up and slapped her, one hand on her shoulder. He grinned at her and then punched her again. The hand on her shoulder went to her throat, the other grabbing her face and pushing it against the wall behind her. He squeezed the sides of her neck. He wasn't squeezing her windpipe, so she could still breathe, but he was cutting off the blood flow to her head.
She felt tension build in her skull and her vision faded to black.
He let go when she went limp, them bit at her neck again until she came to and screamed.
"I told yew to behave," he menaced. "Now, are yew gunna be a good girl?" he sneered.
"Yes, sir," she stated curtly, glaring at him.
He slapped her again, then kissed her deeply. He pulled back a bit and bit at the edge of her chapped lip until it bled, too.
She screamed again as he did so.
He pulled back and sneered, "You don't get to look at me like that."
"Yessir," she said quietly, looking away.
"That's better." He grinned, then trailed down her torso again, stopping to suck at her nipples, then returned to between her legs.
She cried out as she writhed around, clutching at the pillows. She arched her back and moaned as he sucked and licked at her. Occasionally he'd slip his finger into her for a moment to test the waters, listening as she cried less each time. He continued this cycle until she came again.
She moaned and cried out. Eventually she faded to whimpering.
He got up and sat against the wall again. He positioned her so that she kneeled straddling him. He opened the condom package and took it out of its wrapper, rolling the condom onto his cock. He bucked involuntarily and grunted as he did so, sensitive to the touch. He was already extremely aroused from listening to her noises and toying with her. He positioned her above his hard cock. He wiped away the tears from her eyes, though she was still crying. "Yeh're sexy when you cry. And yeh're 'bout to cry harder." He placed her hands atop his shoulders, then held her hips and slowly pressed into her.
She screamed as she felt her skin tear. He was right. She started crying in earnest in time to his slow thrusting, but it hurt less than if he hadn't prepared her. Eventually the pain faded enough that she could feel his cock rubbing against her sweet spot. She wasn't sure what the feeling meant, but it felt good. She cried harder, intensely ashamed.
He pulled out and switched positions again now that the initial process was over. She lay down on the bed and he wrapped her legs around him, thrusting into her again. He went faster as he heard her moan louder. He came inside her and pulled out, removing the condom, throwing it into the trashcan beside the bed. He lay down at her side, panting still, and slipped a finger into her. He rubbed at her sweet spot until she came.
A rush of fluid came out of her as she shuddered and moaned, the sensation spreading throughout her body. She couldn't remember where she was and forgot Murdoc was even there.
He laughed as he nuzzled up to her side, holding her. He licked and kissed her neck, still panting.
Her thinking processes returned after a moment and she remembered what had happened. She was worn out. She still couldn't think straight, thanks to the Vicodin. She glanced at the clock. It had been an hour and a half.
Murdoc mumbled into her ear, "Go to sleep now, pet." He was quiet after that; he had fallen asleep with her in his arms.
He didn't even have to tell her; she was too out of it to do anything but sleep. She faded into unconsciousness, hugging him for warmth and a perverse sense of comfort; she was too tired to even slip under the covers. She dreamt strangely peacefully.