The Pacifist [COMPLETED]

How Dare I?

Rachel

Rachel lost all sense of direction when Mr. Maxwell spun her around and bent her over, making her brace herself on the back of the cushioned chair. The back of her sweater was pulled up and over her head, the bottom hem hooked under her chin. Her back was now exposed and she was blinded by the soft material.

She cried out when she felt the burning of his nails digging into her skin of her upper back. He dragged them down her ribs and to her hips, where he stopped to dig his fingers in their fleshy parts. Rachel panted and did her best to stay quiet and still, even though she wanted to writhe away from him.

Then he pulled off her leggings and panties and she felt his teeth, leaving their mark all over her bottom, hips, and the backs of her thighs. At first, they were methodical, but as he continued, the bites grew more frenzied and he was all over her, the sting of the last bite barely gone before the sting of another began. Mr. Maxwell began to growl as is frenzy increased and this undid Rachel. She cried out from the pain, not caring if anyone heard. A part of her did hope that everyone in the building had left for the day because cops showing up to investigate the noise would be mortifying.

Mr. Maxwell flipped her around again, forcing her back into the chair and removed her sweater from her face so he could grab it once again, his grip harder than before. His eyes were wild. Rachel was certain hers were too.

"Say it again?" he growled.

Rachel sobbed. "It should have been..." her words were cut short with a slap across the face. She looked back at him, stunned. "It should have..." Again, she was cut short by a slap. "It..." Slap. "Should..." Slap. "Have been ME!!!" she screamed, and it was punctuated by another slap.

Instead of words, she wailed after that. She screamed as she cried and wanted to repeat the words she had repeated to herself millions of times over the years. Words she had screamed to herself when she had tried to end her life.

Joseph grabbed her face again. "Are you with me?" When Rachel didn't answer, he asked, "Are you here?"

Rachel nodded, snot and tears running onto his hand.

"Good," he ground out. Still holding onto her face, he pulled her back up and led her to the studio room and ordered her to lay down on her back. He nudged her legs apart so they were spread open. "Don't, move."

Rachel listened and watched him through tear drenched eyelashes as he released his erection from his jeans. Mr. Maxwell fell to his knees and landed on all fours on top of her, his face inches from her own. Without warning, he buried himself into her sex. There was no resistance, as she was wet and ready for him. He groaned and Rachel knew he was pleased. With each thrust, he grounded her, brought her back to shore, and reminded her that she was still alive and that it was okay.