It's been two weeks Donna thought to herself, before shaking her head, irritated with herself for thinking that. In the two weeks since her rape, Donna had managed to mostly put it out of her mind and act normal around others. However, in moments like this one, when she was alone, it took quite a bit to keep her mind from wondering back to what happened, and, at night, she'd started not sleeping well because she couldn't keep from having nightmares about it.
Still, it had, for the most part, been all right. It wasn't like Mr. Fenton could do it again, or even really showed signs of wanting to. Other than class, he seemed to pretty much ignore her, and never had the chance to talk to her again. Plus, as was the usual, Lisa's mother picked her up from school, with Claire's doing it on the days that Lisa's mother couldn't. If neither of them could, and her parents weren't home, as the usual, she'd take a bus as close to her home as possible, if she didn't miss it.
Like today she thought, sighing as she fixed her grip on her purple umbrella. Today, neither of her friend's mothers were able to drive her home. Lisa's had picked her up early to take her to a doctor's appointment in the city, while Claire hadn't been at school the entire week, due to a family emergency. Her parents were at work as well, and, of course, she'd missed the bus.
She stumbled again, her feet hurting in the heels that Lisa had insisted she wore. Even knowing that it would be raining today – as well as the fact that she'd be leaving early – Lisa had insisted that Donna wore something specific, which was how she found herself in a purple halter top that she'd mostly hidden underneath her pink sweater, dark jean mini skirt that was just the right length for school, and two inch heeled boots. Basically, her clothes would have been more at place at a party, not school.
She was sightly glad that there was no homework this weekend, having worked on it during study hall, lunch, and gym, since they had to stay in the library because of the rain. It would have sicked if she had to carry a book filled backpack after missing the bus. And, while she lived pretty far from the school, the distance was still walkable – she'd done it before, after all.
So, with that thought in mind, she'd set off, not noticing that she was being watched by someone.
Unfortunately, being alone like this meant that her mind wasn't distracted by something else, and she eventually stopped, pulling out her ear buds and pressing play on her I-pod to have something to distract her before continuing the walk once more, wishing, after stumbling for another few blocks, that someone would drive by and offer her a ride home.
Not that she would hear it, though, playing the music loud like she was. The person would have to honk their horn rather close by to get her attention, which was why she didn't hear the car pull to a stop behind her.
"Ow," she said, frowning as she looked down at her foot, seeing that the thin heel had snapped. I'm never going to forgive Lisa for this she thought. She knew that she had an appointment today, yet she still insisted that I wore these shoes today. And she knew that I might not catch the bus on time, too.
She sighed, frowning as she thought about how she was going to walk. She already knew, from personal experience, that it would be hell walking in the shoes, and she wondered if it would be worth stripping them and her socks off or not. Before she could decide, she felt a hand touch her shoulder, as well as a rather muffled call of her name.
"Oh, sor-" she started, turning around while taking he ear buds out. The words she was about to say died in her throat as she turned to see who it was that had come up behind her, her face paling as she realized that it was Fenton. Her mouth moved up and down as she tried to think of something to say. She begged her feet to move, but they didn't seem to want to.
"Donna," he said conversationally. "Do you need a ride home?"
Her mouth continued to open and shut, her voice stuck in her throat. She was shaking, and backed up away from him, almost toppling over from not being quite well balanced.
"S-st-stay a-away f-f-f-from m-me," she stuttered while backing up, her voice quivering with fear. He didn't listen, reaching out and pulling her to him before she could call to the ground.
"Careful," he said. "I don't think it's quite safe for you to walk home. Come on, I'll give you a ride there."
She wasn't given much of a choice in the matter, for he pulled her into his side, arm wrapped around her shoulders, and grabbed the umbrella from her. His lack of an umbrella for himself was clear as she felt water transferring from his clothes to hers, making her shiver. Using the arm around her shoulders, he guided her over to his truck. She tried to resist, staying still.
"I...I c-can get to m-my house j-just f-f-fine," she said, still stuttering.
"Your heels broken," he said. "I don't think you should risk twisting your ankle because of pride."
She inhaled sharply. Pride? He thinks I'm trying to be prideful? she thought. The thought angered her, but he continued to talk.
"Or, rather, because your afraid of another detour to my house," he added, and her anger drained away at the mention of what he'd done last time. She swallowed harshly, becoming extremely stiff.
"I won't take a detour to my house again," he said, sounding sincere as he pulled her with him again, this time with more force; she stumbled as he practically dragged her to the passenger side of the truck.
"Do you promise?" she asked. She didn't know why, just that she wanted him to say it.
"Yes," he said, opening the door for her and gesturing for her to climb in. She looked at him for a moment, then turned to climb in. He was right, after all. It would be stupid to try and walk home with a broken heel. Plus, with the way he was acting, she doubted he'd try to do anything again. After all she thought, a bit bitterly, he already got what he must've wanted. It's not like he'd want to, or even be able to, have me again.
She was slightly surprised at how bitter that thought was, especially since the bitterness wasn't really towards the fact that he'd had her to begin with, but the idea that he wouldn't want her again. She shouldn't want that to happen again. She looked down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap as disgust rolled through her.
I don't want him to want me again she thought. I will fight if it happens again. I won't let it happen again.
The truck began to shake a bit too much, which startled her as she looked up, dismayed to see that he was off the road, driving down a dirt path, having not expected it. She wasn't really scared – this path could cut the distance between her house and the school by a good three miles, plus it didn't take her anywhere near his house. Still, a feeling of foreboding went through her.
The lane was extremely isolated, for hardly anyone really used it, even if they had a vehicle that could drive along it. Just wide enough for a single car to drive down in one direction, it was mostly used as a running lane, being close to a park, and that only happened during the morning or late evenings. Right now, it was completely empty, save for them.
She gripped the door handle, her foreboding increasing a bit as they began to slow down about halfway through. She prepared to throw open the door, then remembered the fact that it was broken, which did nothing to improve her mood, or rid her of any terror she was feeling. She swallowed harshly as the truck slowed down even more.
"What are you doing?" she demanded, receiving no answer as the truck came to a complete stop. She tried to open the door as she undid her seat belt, hoping that he had been lying about the fact that it was broken, but when it didn't open, she knew that it wasn't false. The door didn't budge an inch. She let out a terrified breath, mentally berating herself for getting into the truck, and tried to think of something to do.
All she had to do was get to his side of the car and out of it. She turned towards him, pressing her back against the door as she pulled her legs in front of her, ready to kick at a moments notice. Hopefully, she'd be able to kick him hard enough to knock him out. The engine turned off, and he reached over, grabbing one of her legs faster than she expected him to move, and pulling her towards him.
"NO!" she yelled, kicking out her other leg while grabbing onto the armrest on the door as she was pulled, her head hitting the door a bit at the sudden movement. He managed to grab her leg before it could hit him, and pulled her towards him again, until she was laying flat on her back, head on the seat, with him between her legs, which were spread wide open, while her butt rested on his knees. He reached underneath he skirt, grabbing and pulling at her panties. She felt the fabric tear as the elastic broke with a sharp snap, and she hissed at the sudden pain it caused.
Donna watched as he pulled the remains of her panties out from beneath her skirt. Angered, she let go of the door, knowing that it wasn't helping her all that much in holding on, as he was much stronger than she was, and sat up as well as she could, a feat that should have been impossible with the position she was in.
She tried to scrape her nails against his face, but, before she could, as if anticipating the movement, he dropped her torn panties to the ground, grabbing her hands with his own, and putting her wrists together in one hand. He pressed them to the ceiling for some odd reason, one that was explained when he used his free hand to tug on the tie of her halter, the strips falling to bare her breasts to him.
He bend down, taking a nipple in his mouth and rasping his tongue against it before sucking hard. He pulled her wrists away from ceiling, leaning down in between her legs without removing his mouth from where it feasted. The fingers of his free hand played with her other breast for a moment, then slid downwards, brushing down her skirt until it met the skin on her leg.
Fenton moved his hand until it was on her inner thigh, then moved it upward until he brushed against her slit. He played with her, thrusting his fingers in and out of her as tears fell from her eyes. She tried to free herself to no success. Shame ran through her as she felt a jolt of pleasure run through her as she became wet.
Once she was wet enough for him, he moved to his pants, undoing the buckle of his belt. He maneuvered himself until his member was free, and she whimpered as she felt it brush against her thigh. He fisted his member, guiding it until he was positioned just right.
"You said that you would take me straight home," she said, not wanting this to happen again, but unable to really fight against him. "You promised to do that." A cry left her as he surged forward, burying himself in her wet heat. He held still for a moment, relishing in the feel of her as he lowered his head to her ear.
"I promised that there would be no detours to my house, that that there wouldn't be a detour at all," he murmured, and then began to thrust into her. She whimpered as his grunts of pleasure echoed in her ear, wishing that it would be over soon.
Fenton, however, had other ideas. While he didn't care all that much that he had hurt her, he wanted to know what it felt like to have her come. He wanted her to orgasm for him. So he let his free hand fall between them while his mouth went back to her breasts. Donna wasn't able to stop herself from gasping as she felt his hand touch her clit once more, his fingers making small circles.
No she thought, shame going through her once again as pleasure began to run through her. Something coiled within her stomach, and she let out a moan, though she tried to fight it. The coil began to tighten, more and more as he sped up her thrusts. Several moments later, her inner muscles tightened around him as she climaxed. He followed right after her.
Breathing hard, it took Donna a few moments for her mind to catch up with what had just happened, and, when it did, her eyes began to fill up with tears. She'd just been raped, again...and she'd enjoyed it. No she thought. She hadn't enjoyed it. He'd manipulated her body. While she could control her mind and know that it wasn't something she wanted, her body didn't function the same way, and, unfortunately, it could override what her mind wanted.
Still, that knowledge didn't help her all that much. She scrambled away from him, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. She didn't bother looking for her panties; she'd felt them rip, therefore looking for them to put them on was a useless motion. Instead, she pulled her skirt down as much has she could, fixing her bra and shirt.
She wanted to get home, wanted to take a shower, even more after noticing something white on her thighs. She wanted to wash and scrub away his touch from her body. She only hoped that the shame she felt would go down the drain with it.
Fenton, who had fixed himself so that he was no longer hanging out of his pants, had started the truck, and was now heading towards her house once more. When he pulled up, Donna tried to get out of the truck once more, only to remember that the door didn't work. She tried to roll down the window – Why didn't I do this before? - but before she could reach the turning knob, Fenton grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.
She squeaked, and he grabbed her head, stopping her from moving it as he kissed her once again. Opening his door, he turned her so that she could get out of the truck. Before she could, though, he whispered something to her, something that caused her to pale and stiffen for a moment before she slid down.
Donna ran to her house, fighting with her bag to get her keys, the minute she was free from Fenton's grasp. Once she got her key out, it took her a few seconds before she could unlock the door, unable to see the lock through her tears. When she had it undone, she rushed into the house closing and locking the door behind her before sinking to the floor, the tears flowing double time down her face as she repeated what he just said in her mind.
We'll have to do this again sometime.
Shaking, Donna realized that she should tell someone what he had done, the rape two weeks ago and the one that just happened, but her fear that no one would believe her, that they would call her a liar and said that she enjoyed it voluntarily, stayed her actions. The fact that it had happened twice, with minimal fight from her would seem to suggest that she did want it, at least, it did in her mind. She didn't want people that she knew to look at her with disgust in their eyes. And then there was the fact that things like this just didn't happen in her town. That fact also had a part in her thinking process.
No, I can't say anything about it she thought to herself as she wiped away her tears and pushed herself off of the ground. I...I...I just...can't.
Grabbing her bag, she walked upstairs to her bedroom, setting it next to her desk before going into her bathroom, taking a long, hot shower as she scrubbed away at her body, paying extra attention to the areas that he had touched. She rubbed her skin almost raw before she decided that she had cleaned herself to the best that she could. Then, she dressed herself in her night garments – glad to note that her parents wouldn't be back until the next day – and cried once more, until exhaustion took her.
She had horrible nightmares that night, about Fenton and her rapes, ones that caused her to wake up several times, until, finally, she realized that she wouldn't be able to get to sleep without some help. Heading into her parents room, she found some cold medicine, the type that would knock her out, and took some. Her exhaustion from her crying jag meant that she didn't have to wait before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, one that she didn't wake up from until the next day. While she knew that she'd had nightmares the previous night, she had no memory of what they were upon waking.