I went through a moment of denial, running through all the reasons he wouldn't or couldn't do this. Shouldn't, do this. How there was nothing he would gain from it.

His grip tightened as he shoved me backwards, my back connected with the bed. I felt like I was in slow motion as I lifted my head up, eyes gazing across the bed and up his figure to meet his eyes- those bright, cruel, fuchsia eyes.

He knelt onto the bed and the world snapped back into focus, I brought my arms up and shoved them against his chest. It was pathetic, he didn't move back an inch. He growled warningly, twisting my arms behind my back and flipping me so I was on my stomach. I cried out in anger, thrashing underneath his weight. I heard his deep chuckle of amusement, like this was all a game to him. Like taking this precious thing from me in such a horrible way was fun. He leaned closer to me, his mouth by my right ear.

"You only make it more exciting with your fighting." He hissed, hand sliding beneath my shirt and forcefully ripping it open, tossing the torn item of clothing to the ground. The panic seeped into my veins like a slow-killing poison, my lungs burned for air and my heart tried to pound its way from my chest. I bit down hard on the sheets that were bunching up beneath me to vent the terror.

He laid one hand on my stomach, his thumb rubbing over my skin as though it were meant to be soothing; and it was far from it. I wanted him off me, I'd never been so afraid in my entire life. It was the overwhelming knowledge that something horrible was going to happen to you, that someone was going to hurt you.

And there was nothing you could do about it.

He pulled my pants off my hips, the fabric being pulled down my legs almost felt like he was teasing me, like he was slowly stripping me of everything I had and reminding me I couldn't do a damn thing to stop him. He was in control, and he relished and would take every advantage of it. "Get off me!" My voice sounded raspy as I tried to scream. His hand gripped my hair, yanking my head back so hard I got dizzy.

"Did you want to be on top, whore?" He snarled, letting his unbelievably cold hand slide its way up my hip and torso, stopping at my breast. I tugged on my arms, finding it sad how weak I was. He roughly cupped my breast, pinching my nipple between his thumb and index finger; I yelped at the sharp sting, blushing hotly in humiliation.

"Go fuck yourself!" I hissed, crying out when he shoved me forward, putting my freed hands out to catch myself. I turned to look as he stood from the bed, sliding his already low hanging pants to the ground. I flushed hotly, hanging my head down. How stupid could I have been? Hope was about as stupid as anyone could get in the slave trade; it simply didn't exist. I knew something like this would eventually happen, and I knew better than to hope it wouldn't be here with Hidan, I'd been lucky so far.

My luck had run out.

His hand gripped my leg and flipped me over so I was on my back. The least of my worries should have been my self-consciousness, but I found myself humiliated that someone else saw me naked. Especially since he'd done nothing but insult me half the time.

"Aw, are you scared little girl?" His voice dripped with sadism, striking a chord deep inside of me. I narrowed my eyes hatefully, growling at the demonic bastard. "Fuck you!" I should learn to keep my mouth shut, but I never did, and I guess this might count as a punishment for that. He smirked, something feral and insane. I flinched when he brought one hand up my thigh to my…private places. What was the point of it being called private if anyone could have access to it no matter if you said no or didn't want them to?

It felt like his hand left a trail of fire wherever he touched. I swallowed dryly, shutting my eyes tightly and trying to wrench away from his iron grasp; it earned me a wolfish laugh and a bruise on my upper thigh, but I was never one to accept fate. I aimed my fist at his face, hoping that even if I just grazed him it would be enough to get him off of me.

All he had to do was lean back slightly to avoid the pitiful attack. Why was I so pathetic? I couldn't even fend off one man from violating me. Was this why women were so degraded? Because we were so weak?

He took both of my arms and slammed them beside my head, leaning very close to my face. I met his eyes; those eyes, so beautiful that the sadism and amusement swirling in their depths didn't seem to belong there. "Keep the fuck still or I'll break 'em." He snarled at me, squeezing my wrists tightly before pulling back. I felt tears prick my eyes, it burned.

His hands parted my legs again, I glanced back at him, eyes traveling down his well toned body, I flushed when I reached his lower half. I blushed easily, apparently. Kind of unfitting for the situation.

God he's huge.

I yelped when he pressed two fingers against my entrance, a dark smirk spread over his features. That was bad. "You're wet already? I haven't even fucking touched you, you whore!" He sneered down at me. There was something about that, it really hurt me. I was being raped and I was excited? That's what that meant right? I didn't even have any control over it…

I tensed when his digits circled my entrance, crying out in shock and discomfort when he pushed them inside me. It didn't hurt really, but it was uncomfortable, something I wasn't used to. I didn't want to be used to it either. His eyes narrowed slightly, looking back up to my face. "Are you…" His voice trailed off, was I what? What the hell did he mean?

I cringed when he scissored his fingers, pushing them in deeper. I gasped when he pulled back quickly, his hands gripping my hips. "You're a fucking virgin?" He sounded so shocked. And excited, in a way. What was wrong with being a virgin? "Perfect." He purred, eyes darkening. He pulled me closer to him, one hand on my hip and the other holding my thigh. "Grit your teeth, sweetheart." He smirked. I narrowed my eyes, gasping when his tip pressed into me.

"AAH!"

I'll look back and wonder why the window didn't shatter.

He forced his entire length into me, it was worse than any pain I remember taking. It burned, it stung, it wouldn't relent. I was bleeding, I felt it stain my thighs. A sickening groan of pleasure left his lips as he sheathed himself; my face was wet. "Fucking tight." He growled lowly, pulling back out. The pain intensified when he thrust back in, I cried out again, realizing I was crying when the tears slid down my cheek.

"Stop!" I screamed, he was making it worse. He was tearing me apart, I wasn't ready for him to move, and he didn't care. I didn't know why I wanted him to. To lessen the pain? Or because it hurt even worse to think he enjoyed when I was in pain. He leaned over me to place one hand by my shoulder, his other on my waist to pin me down so he could thrust into me. Use me. "Fucking relax and it might not hurt so bad, you dirty bitch." His voice was raspy as his hips pistoned forward.

I whimpered, my nails digging half-moons into my palm as I clenched my fists. Why did women enjoy sex? I couldn't picture this ever feeling good. Even if I was willing. It was agony. I let my eyes shut tightly as I clenched my jaw against the next scream that tried to leave my mouth, my chest heaved as I tried to take in air without choking on a sob. It wasn't supposed to be like this, you were supposed to love someone.

"Mmfuck!"

He growled, I screamed in protest as something hot splashed inside of me, burning my torn muscle. He pulled out of me slowly, his own breathing a little ragged. My lungs and throat burned from screaming, and my eyes felt like hot coals from crying so much. I curled into myself slowly, trembling violently. He stood from the bed, putting his pants back on with one more glance at me. "Quit crying like a fucking baby." He snarled, leaving the room with a slam. Was he angry? At what for Christ's sake?

I flinched when a sharp pang went up my back when I tried to straighten my legs, yelping in protest. I remained curled up in a ball, arms wrapped tightly around myself as though it would help protect me. Nothing would protect me, nothing or no one. A sob wrenched its way from me, wracking my body with its harshness. The little things began to pick their way through my mind. Why had I spoken to him that day? Why didn't I fight him back? Was I whore? I didn't like what he'd done, didn't whores like sex…?

My blood still dripped from my legs, and it was so stupid that what came to my mind was how Hidan would be pissed I had bled onto the bed. I broke down in tears again, trying to stifle them so no one would hear me. I regret ever complaining about my life in any way before; because now I know it could always be worse.

AUTHORESS NOTE:

Son of a dingo all of you have been all excited and telling me to update and seriously, I doubt any of you will stick with the story after this because it's one of those that doesn't unravel until the ending, with a lot of confusing shit along the way. You fuckers are on one roller-coaster of a fic.

Yes, he raped her.

Yes, I feel bad, I've contemplated over this for a while before I took this route, be it as violent as it becomes.

Yes, Deidara's nice. Maybe it's a little OOC but that's what makes it fun.

Yes, I've portrayed Itachi as he really is; uncaring and cruel on the outside, and a pacifist on the inside.

I've realized whenever I write, I get into the mindset of the story. I got really into this story, and my dad randomly threw open the door yelling something (He yells it's just how he talks XD) and put simply, I freaked the fuck out for a few seconds. Deep stories do that to a dedicated author o.O

And it's donned me I'm listening to love the way you lie (Part 2) while writing this… Hm.

I feel like I should add this… This entire story was based off of THIS scene. I had a… Dream slash vision of this and based a story from it. However, if this is disliked , because you think I moved too fast, that it doesn't fit in well, that you wanted a happier story, etc. (I can assure you this relationship will be bittersweet at the very least.) I will take the chapter down and go a different route. It's all depending on YOU. The readers. Do not hate on the decision I made, simply speak out against it. Contrary to popular belief I actually do give a shit what my readers think.