I warned you last time that shit is going to get real in this chapter...

Reaching around Emily's squirming body as her love bites made it increasingly more difficult to continue smoking what was left of the pot, Chris shoved her back so he could be sure that the dregs weren't wasted, doing what he had to be done with the weed. Once that was in order, he shifted his priorities back to his girlfriend, kissing her collar bone, more or less where he had pushed her, a soft pink trace from his palm still glowing softly - perhaps he had exerted just a little more force than he had needed to? Well, it wasn't as if she had any problems with it, because she was right back where she left off, teasing his earlobe with her tongue, gently nibbling on the tender flesh.

As with most boys his age, it didn't take a whole hell of a lot to set him off, Chris feeling the blood rushing downwards as her breasts conveyed their own sense of urgency to become one, his dick grating against his dark jeans, rubbing abrasively against the thigh that she had shoved against his crotch for this very reason. Without any warning at all, her hands flew from his shoulders to his pants as she began to work on the copper button, ripping down the zipper. As much as he liked her enthusiasm, bitch needed to back the hell off for a red-hot minute - they were going to do this, but they were going to do it own his own terms.

"Jesus Christ, you're such a fucking slut!" Half foreplay and half just being a dick, Chris jabbed her once more, but this time he used his full strength, sending her flying back, her ass striking the carpet while her head bounced briskly against the sturdy coffee table. He wasn't worried, because she had taken worse hits, but the collision had disturbed his bong somewhat, sending a split-second of sheer panic rushing up his spine. Sure, he could easily afford more, but he was down to the last couple of ounces and his favorite dealer was out of town for the next two weeks. "Now calm the fuck down," Bending over in the chair, he grabbed her face in his hands, rough like sandpaper as he guided her chin to attention, threatening her in earnest, "or you won't get any dick tonight."

Emeralds wide with lust (and a combination of pain and drugs), Emily nodded at his promise (it was a threat he had carried out in the past, once even tying her down and forcing her to watch him cum to the scene in the first X-Men movie, when Rouge gets stabbed through the chest by Logan), throwing her hands in the air as she swiveled around 90 degrees, voice contrite as she whimpered breathlessly, "Don't be that mean to me... I can't handle that, not when its been a full seventy-two hours already..."

Rolling his eyes at the nympho he was dating, the young heir to the Genovese family crawled out of the dark chair and knelt over her prone form, tits heaving beneath her teeshirt, heart racing in an untamed furor, his legs spread over her thighs as he unzipped her pants, sliding them down her hips, past her knees, and totally off. Looking down at her stringy fire engine-red thong, presumably held in place by some kind of gem or metal charm, he paused to admire the Harley Quinn Arkham City-esque line-up of hearts just in front of her hipbone, each one outlined in the same color as the insides of the last, the first being black with a red exterior. Running his thumb across the months old ink, the tattoo acquired in secret on their fourth date, she moaned as the anticipation grew, her pussy already quite wet at the thought of her boyfriend fucking her brains out, his hard dick throbbing in response to Emily's plea, crushed in agony as his cock fought for full freedom.

While he was preoccupied with examining her lower half, Emily had already removed her teeshirt and was in the middle of unhooking her aqua-plaid bra, hands struggling and fumbling as her mind began to black-out from the sensations ringing throughout her entire body, Chris' index finger finding its way inside of her pink flower, "Yeah, touch me there!" A second finger slid inside of her warm crevice, the heat burning his hand as he rubbed her insides, twisting his digits around, making her leak even more juice, earning a loud groan of pleasure as he inserted his ring finger. "I was touching myself in the elevator, just thinking about this moment..."

"You really are a fucking slut..." He felt inclined to point out the obvious, "There are cameras in the elevator. The fucking security crew can watch that shit, and God knows who else they show it to."

Tsking, Emily shook her head in disagreement, somehow manging to work in between her throes of ecstasy, "First off, I know that there are cameras in there, because I'm not retarded, so it was only over the clothes, and secondly, I used my backpack for cover. Besides, I know that you've already filmed me with your little pedo-bear nanny cam, so don't pretend like you care about me being filmed without my consent."

Chris shrugged as he removed all three extremities from her cunt, one right after the other. "I don't - I care about some other assholes watching my girlfriend get off." He looked at her suspiciously, the herb causing increased paranoia and forgetfulness, "And how do you know about that?"

Damn, the girl thought with a small degree of admiration, he really was baked - Chris had so thoughtfully coaxed her (and by that he had forced her) into watching him watching all the footage he had taken of them (and her by herself) the last time that they had made up after a fight. Maybe if he got pissed off enough, he would do it to her again? She kinda hoped so. "Just shut up and fuck me!"

Ah, now that phrase brought back the memory of their first time together...

[Emily's Sixteenth Birthday...]

Emily rolled her eyes. "Just get the fuck over here and kiss me already."

Not the first kiss for either of them, Chris stood in front of the birthday girl, placing his hands on her shoulders as he leaned in, just as shy as she was, if that could believed. Awkward at first as they weren't really sure what to do with their arms or which way to lean their faces - their first kisses had really been more of quick pecks - it took a couple of minutes and quite a few tries before they had discovered what worked (but at that point it still would be a number of practice sessions before the words like 'good' came into play). Eventually, their make-out session heating up once they had that kissing thing worked out, their tongues inventing a new variation of the tango, he had pressed her back parallel to the mattress, one knee bent by her side, the other still supporting his weight as he stood over her.

Panting heavily from all the stolen lip-locks, she pulled away from him, just enough to really look into his eyes, the lighter shades of green coming out to play this time, the sage undertones more of a mint. Into the kissing as much as she was, every second of rummaging better than the last, she wasn't ready to go any further than that, not just yet, so Emily figured that she had the responsibility of telling him that, "Slow down... I'm not ready yet."

Ghosting his hands up her back, familiarizing himself with the various contours, Chris was almost too busy leaving a trail of tantalizingly sweet kisses up the side of her neck to hear what she had said, but even with the thunderous hammering of his heart in his chest, the enkindled butterflies flapping their blazing wings in his core, he heard, and he was far from happy about her decision, everything grinding to a jarring halt, "What was that?"

Cocking her head to the side, she tried to explain herself, "I want to wait-"

"You want to wait?" Incredulous, he cut her off. "What about me?!" Leaning in closer, he rubbed his half-erect cock against her leg, showing her what she had done to him, nonverbally proving that she was at fault so she had to take responsibility. "What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?! What kind of a mega cunt taunts a guy by acting like a whore and then retracting everything she put out?!" He shook his head, covering her mouth with his hand before she could reply, unzipping his pants with the other, "No. I'm going to fuck you, one way or another."

Eyes wide with fear, Emily struggled frantically against Chris, throwing her arms out to shove him away, kicking her legs around to do anything she could think of to create an opening, but her squirming only served to excite him even further, her helplessness and futile fighting giving that last little push needed to get it up all the way. Frightened as she was, Emily didn't give up, not for a minute, wriggling and resisting his body weight and height. Throwing her hands out, she got him in the face, right in the mouth, two of her nails scratching him just under his eye and drawing blood, the droplets dripping from his cheek, spilling directly into her wailing mouth. Angry and turned on in equal measure, he jerked her mouth up into his, probing her open cavity with his tongue, smearing his own blood across her lips. While he shared his blood, she used the opportunity to knock him away, kicking at his stomach as she yelled out for help, scrambling on the bed to get away from him.

It wasn't good enough: Chris was already back up, a sadistic gleam in his eyes that told her exactly what was about to happen - as if there was any doubt in her mind - his human claws grabbing her by the ankle, her shrieks renting the air like a blade through an artery as he reeled her back in, belligerent and howling for help. She had said earlier that no one was going to hear them scream, and she wasn't wrong about that, but he felt sorta cheated. Oh well.

Before he could put his hand back over her mouth, Emily cried out once more, knowing in her heart of hearts that it was all in vain, "Daddy! Uncle Javi! Someone!" She choked on a sob, "Anyone...?"

Figuring that if he was really going to do this, he might as well go all out, Chris used one hand to cover her mouth; the other was used to reach up the hem of her rather poofy party dress, blinded of the view as his hand slithered up her frock and past a hundred layers of tulie. Savoring the terror in her lily-pad-green eyes as she realized that this was really happening, his hand slipped over her freshly shaved flesh, grazing the soft skin of her inner thigh, grasping the lower edges of her cottony panties. Yanking the fabric down with terrifying force, sliding it over her knees like some kind of faulty vice, he moved his hand back to the penultimate barricade, unleashing his dick.

Quite unexpectedly, and without a warning of any kind, he rammed his hips against her, forcing entry into that final obstacle as he popped her cherry. "Ssshhhh, it's ok baby." She wasn't sure if he was mocking her, or if that was a genuine attempt at offering comfort, but either way, Emily had began to cry, and it was from more than the rape. She had really liked him, and if only he had been willing to wait a little longer, she more than gladly would have given him the first bite of her apple pie. Watching as she broke down, her fight lessening to half-hearted motions, Chris was a little surprised to find that in her tears a newfound bid at freedom had emerged, her elbow digging into his ribs as he pounded deeper inside of her, which annoyed him more than it wounded, "Don't hurt yourself."

"Get off of me!" Mewling beneath his hand, she tried to push him away again, but he was already inside her, rocking rhythmically back and forth, hips speeding up and slowly down at maddeningly irregular intervals. It was obviously his first time. "Stop it, Chris, you're hurting me!"

It was true that her body was shivering as it tried to reject what was happening, that her tears were a salty mixture of pain and heartache, but he failed to see how some part of her wasn't enjoying this. On so many different levels the sex improved in their future, but even this wasn't so bad - he could see doing this again, even if that meant that he had to continually take it from her. And what could she do about it? He had taken her powers from her, that gift that most females competently wielded to manipulate her lover, so how could she possibly stop him? Sure, she could always tell someone what he had done to her, but his old man had certain ways of dealing with all kinds of problems, so something told him that that her snitching wouldn't be an issue, so all that left was her trying to avoid him.

Mulling all of that over, and possible ways to prevent her from seeing that escape was her only option, Chris pulled out the one viable answer he could think of, saving it until he had finished fucking her, ejaculating inside. Moving his hand from her mouth at last, he brushed his thumb across her cheek, palm stained with her make-up. "I love you."

Wincing as he withdrew his manhood from her - the semen oozing everywhere as it gushed every which way, spilling in a small pool on her dress - collapsing on the space at her side, Chris collected his thoughts, feeling proud that he had finally gotten laid. Emily, on the other hand, openly wept as she curled into the fetal position, her back to him, mind trying to process what had just transpired, playing back the last couple of minutes from every conceivable angle, but she just couldn't register anything, just the numbness that had blanketed her in shame. In more ways than one, she had been broken - her spirit, her body, her heart, and worst of all, her mind. In some secret place in the back of her mind, she had always wondered what it would have felt like to be raped, to be made into some living sex doll, and now that it had happened to her, nothing felt real anymore.

The teenager couldn't begin to fathom how Chris had done that to her, but even more baffling would be the question as to why he wouldn't, because after all, it had been her fault, hadn't it? Really, going to the lengths she had gone to, wasn't it only right that he should take what she had promised? And he said that he loved her, so it must have been for her own good that acted in that way, right? He loved her, and he would probably be the only guy that would, could, ever want her, so who was she to be so selfish as to only think about herself?

Perceiving that he had taken all of the power in their relationship in this one act alone, and as a bonus ensured that she was so very unlikely to leave, Chris was kind of proud of himself for this accomplishment, feeling as if his father would be proud of his son, assuming that he had ever found out about this triumph. Glancing over at Emily for the first time since cumming inside of her, Chris wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close, the warmth of her body radiating as they spooned. He whispered into her hair, "You'll always be mine, won't you?"

Her body still felt wrong about everything, skin crawling the wrong way, but even still, the many fragments of her psyche told her that that was all she would ever know, that in time it wouldn't feel this way anymore, that the pain would finally stop, "Of course..."

Within the coming months, poor Emily would even realize that she did enjoy it, being owned like an inanimate object, talked down to and treated like shit. She got off on it, so long as Chris was the one doing it - anyone else even tried to talk down to her, she would fucking punch 'em in the cunt and feed their corpses to the mother fucking sharks. What was frightening, more in that adrenaline-rush sort of way, was watching just how dark Chris could get - she knew that if he were to be pushed far enough over the line, it would get ugly...

But in the end, she knew that she would stand by his side, watching on as the world burned down at his feet. At their feet...

Yeah, I wouldn't call sex scenes my forte, and like a dumb shit, I had to put two into one chapter! Well, technically one was a rape scene - which is god fucking awful, but in my own opinion, Katie wasn't his first victim - but it was all done in-character. As if that's any excuse... As for Emily's reaction, I wanted to point out that there all all kinds of reactions to something like that, that she was sick even beforehand, but that was the straw that broke that camels back. Oh, and on to a considerably lighter note, I should point out that I have yet to play any of the Arkham games, but I am familiar with Harley's design for them! Ironically, I'm actually a bigger fan of Poison Ivy than I am of Harley (but it's a close call). Even though I'm normally against self-advertisement/shameless promotion of my own shit, I actually have three pictures (ok, its the same one at various stages) of the Mother Fucker! Well, technically Chris D'Amico, since he's not in costume, but apparently there is no alter-ego, and he is just always the one identity (just like the heroes). Anyways, yeah, they're on DeviantART, if you wanna look at them, under BleedingHeartsWorld. Oh. My. Damn! I just had an epiphany! This is the first story I've posted with my new/current pen name, which I got from the Jim Carrey version of the Grinch which has Taylor Momsen in it! Taylor Momsen is in The Pretty Reckless, who sing the song at the end of the first movie! Jim Carrey is obviously in the second film, which also features one of my now favorite villains! Can anyone say 'full circle'? Granted, I did change my name before seeing Kick-Ass... But still!

Remember, reviews are always welcome, no matter how nit-picky or simple! So review!

Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Poor, disturbed Emily Vela is mine.