She wasn’t hurt, though, not exactly. Not yet.
His hands found her breasts and gripped them harder and she would have cried out if not for her choking. She batted his hands away and they went immediately to her jeans. She grabbed them as another fit of coughs seized her. He had her jeans undone and his fingers rampaging for her crotch and she tried to pull them back but his hands were too strong.
The first fingers that entered her sent convulsions through her. The sensation of penetration surprised her like something she would never quite be ready for but it also thrilled her and wasn’t her wetness a sign that she really wanted this? Maybe he was aggressive but that was kind of hot, wasn’t it?
She tried to tell him to slow down, that she would go all the way, but she was still coughing and now her jeans were down past her knees and he was spreading her thighs and ripping off her underwear.
“Please,” she managed between coughs.
“My pleasure,” Victor said in a gruff, panting voice.
Before she could protest that she hadn’t meant please fuck me, but please slow down, he yanked her on her back again and was on top of her and then, oh, jesus not yet I’m not ready, his penis was at her and she tried to clench those muscles (Kegel muscles, she thought) but she was so damn wet and his thing slid inside her and at first it was okay, nothing really, not much different than meaty fingers, but then holy shit the pain was intense and consuming as if his dick were as large as her whole body and she couldn’t breathe and she thought she would die right here with some guy’s dick inside her in a tent on a stupid mountain while her father was fifty yards away.
He pumped and thrust at her like some mindless beast and every movement was a stab of pain that clenched her lungs. Her wetness dried in her pain and that only made the pain worse. He grunted and groaned right over her face. Specks of spittle flew from his mouth onto hers.
This is what you get, that voice said.
But then it was the voice of the protector, screaming at her to fight back. Bite his face, rip his fucking lip off. Scream. For God’s sake, scream!
Not the protector. It was Mom.
Scream, dammit, SCREAM!
Somehow she found the air and did scream. It felt glorious to shout like that as if the scream were a release valve on an overheating boiler and now she would be okay, she wouldn’t explode, he would stop and apologize and she would check for blood and go hug daddy.
Victor punched her in the face instead.
THIRTY-FIVE
It was just like a stupid bitch to ruin a good moment. But she wasn’t going to get away that easily. Not a chance. His fist bounced off her nose and he felt her head smack against the hard ground. She coughed and gagged like he were fucking her mouth instead of the sweet spot between her legs, legs that were wobbling against his own as if her muscles were under incredible strain. Her skin had been flushed with warmth but it turned cold as if she were leaking heat out of her in a flood.
I’ll pump it back in you, he thought and continued his business.
Her head lolled side to side with the rhythm of his movement and she grunted like she was keeping the beat. He went faster and faster. Her body jiggled like she were dead and that was almost too much. It brought him right to the brink and he had to force the image away. If she wanted to fight him, Victor would be disappointed but he wouldn’t let that stop him from getting what he wanted. And then getting it again after he sliced her throat.
He could even fuck the stab wound. God, it would probably be so warm. Even warmer than what he was enjoying right now. He would straddle her face and rip her injury wide with his emphatic thrusts. Watch her dead eyes roll back in their sockets like she was experiencing the most intense pleasure.
That did it. The hotness rushed out of him in a long, continuous spasm. He groaned against the strain of every muscle in his body and knew he should be quiet but it didn’t matter. This was how the universe wanted it. The day had been spent in pursuit of this glorious release and now he had to be ready for what awaited him.
Consciousness returned to Mercy’s eyes as if a switch had been flipped and a scream ushered out of her that made Victor’s ears ring. He had to punch her again, break her nose, let her gag on some blood, but he was still unleashing the hot stuff and he couldn’t move, had to let it flow and flow and flow.
Mercy screamed again, louder still, and Victor did the only thing he could: he bit down on her nose and clenched his jaw with all the strength flooding his body and all the hotness gushing from him. Her scream now was of immense pain and that made him bite down even harder. Blood encircled his lips and dribbled on his tongue like something sweet.
From far away, Mercy’s father was yelling. “Baby! Baby!”
Oh, yeah, baby, Victor thought and screamed against the last fluid fleeing from his body. He knew this was the most vulnerable he could be and that he had to be prepared for her to strike back but he couldn’t keep up his cognitive or physical acuteness. Not after such an amazing orgasm. His muscles went lax, his jaw dropped from her nose, and his mind entered that hazy grey world where thoughts were amorphous blobs that flooded in an empty vastness like clouds in an eternal sky.
Mercy’s hands slipped under his shirt and gripped his chest. For a moment, he thought she wanted more and he felt himself start to grow hard again but then her fingers morphed into claws that pierced his flesh in the gaps between his ribs. She didn’t have long fingernails--he had seen those fingers and the close-cropped, smoothed ends of her nails up close--but the pain that rolled out from her attack like a flood engulfing his lungs could have been from the talons of some long-clawed feline predator.
Fire pokers scorched from raging flames pushed deeper into his skin and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get even the smallest gasp of air down into his burning lungs. His dick went limp and fell from the warmth of Mercy’s sweet hole and that loss of connection was almost worse than the burning in his chest for a moment because it was a complete detachment from what was his and it rang of defeat and embarrassment, of all the times he had tried and failed, the times he had been ridiculed and belittled.
Then the pain blanked out everything in his mind and he was the primal beast once more. He smacked her across the face and her hands dropped from his chest. He smacked her again and laughed at how her head snapped from one side to the next.
“You dumb bitch,” he said through panting breath. “We could have been so great together.”
Mercy started to say something, some variation of “Fuck off,” no doubt, but he punched her in the face again and this time broke her nose. Blood pumped from her nostrils and Victor smeared it across her lips. “Taste it, you bitch,” he said.
Her father was at the tent, ripping at the fabric like an animal confused how to get inside, and yelling “Baby! Baby!”
Victor couldn’t help but laugh.
Mercy Higgins clamped her mouth around two of Victor’s fingers and yanked her head viciously side to side like a wild beast trying to tear chunks of meat off a carcass. He swung at her face again but the hit went wide and one of her legs had somehow gotten between his own and he had just enough time to register the danger before her knee came right up into his balls.
THIRTY-SIX
Mercy had once read a story in Reader’s Digest about a woman who had been attacked and raped in a parking lot and had thought she could simply endure it and be thankful it didn’t get any worse but when the rapist put a knife to her throat and said he was done with her and now she was done with her life, the woman fought back and tore out one of the assailant’s eyes. The article, entitled, “Eye for an Eye: A Survivor’s Tale” had seemed so fantastic that Mercy thought it must be exaggerated. No woman could be so tough after something so horrendous.