Donna Keppel, a fourteen year old freshman at the high school, was confused as she groggily sat up, blinking as she tried to figure out what was going on. It took her a few minutes to realize where she was, something that, once she did, fear began to course through her. She was on a bed in the house of her science teacher, Mr. Fenton.
I'm not supposed to be here she thought, looking around. Her and her friend, Lisa Hines, had made plans to go see a movie this very day, but those plans had fallen wayward due to the fact that Lisa was sick, and Donna had failed her last science test, needing tutoring so that it didn't happen again.
It was this fact that had ended up being a catalyst for her being where she was. The tutoring session had gone on pretty late, half an hour longer than it was supposed to, and she'd been unable to walk home because of the rain that had started up while in class. She also hadn't been able to call anyone – Mrs. Hines was taking care of Lisa, Clair and her mother had gone shopping, and her own mother was on another business trip with her father.
The original plan was that she'd go over to Lisa's house after the movie, but with her friend sick, that wasn't what was going to happen now. Instead, she'd go home, staying there alone. It wouldn't be the first time – she kind of like the empty house, not having to deal with her brother one bit, and being able to watch whatever she wanted.
However, she hadn't been looking forward to the walk in the rain, and had, something she was now thinking was quite stupid of her to do, accepted the invitation for him to drive her home. Even worse, in her opinion, was the fact that not only had the parking lot been completely empty – and the school to poor for cameras – but that she'd gone against every instinct in her body, just for a safe and warm ride home.
Since meeting him at the beginning of school, Fenton had sent off alarms that there was something...bad about him, something that made her want to stay as far from him as she possibly could. Plus, the fact was that he seemed unnaturally interested in her, to the point that even Lisa and her other best friend Claire Blatz noticed, often teasing her about it.
However, at that point, she let the want of not feeling like a drowned cat control her more than her instincts, and had accepted the ride to her house. He's a teacher, he won't do anything bad to me was her thought as she got into his truck. At first, everything seemed to be going all right – had had headed in the right direction, after all. But then he'd pulled up to a stop in a rather secluded house – his house, he mentioned to her when she asked where they were.
According to him, he was planning on leaving to go somewhere that day, and, being a bit late, he was stopping to get his things, planning heading straight to where he was going once he dropped her off. It was an easy explanation to except – he was already running a little late thanks to her, in a way, since she'd been waiting, wondering what to do, and he hadn't been able to leave because she was his responsibility.
However, the warning bells should have begun to go off when he offer to let her come inside, stating that it might take a while for him to get his bags – he hadn't packed yet. In truth, they did go off, but she'd stupidly ignored them, and accepted his offer, following him inside the house after he'd opened the door for her – apparently, it was a bit broken in that the inside handle didn't work all that well. He'd gone off towards the kitchen, asking if she'd wanted something to drink, coming back and handing it to her on his way up the stairs.
Rather thirsty, she'd gulped the water down rather quickly, setting the glass down on the table right next to the door while wondering into the living room. She knew that she'd made a mistake in taking the drink moments later, when her vision began to swim in front of her. She stumbled towards in the direction of the front door, knowing that there was no way it was accidental that she was suddenly drugged, and wanting to get out of there.
She didn't make it, being stopped before she could get there. Mr. Fenton had grabbed her, and, within moments of it, her vision completely faded, and stayed that way, up until a few moments ago. She looked around, her eyes catching the clock on the side of the bed, which showed that it had almost been three hours since she'd arrived there. A frown crossed her face; she almost wondered what her aunt would say when she didn't call, only to remember that, as far as anyone knew, she was supposed to be at Lisa's house – none of them knew that Lisa had been sick today.
Her eyes suddenly widened as she looked down at herself, her hands moving to feel her body when she realized that there wasn't a lot of light to see by in the room. She sighed in relief as she realized that she was still clothes. However, the relief went away a bit as she realized that there were several items of her clothing missing, most notably her jacket, shoes, and socks.
I've got to find them and get out of here she thought to herself, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up. She felt a bit woozy at the action, swaying lightly until she could stand without a problem. She walking in the direction in front of her, hands outstretched until she came to a wall.
Feeling her way around the room, she finally found light, turning it on to discover where she was. She felt a bit sick as she noticed the lived in look of the room. It didn't take much for her to guess that she was in his bedroom. She walked over to the door, opening it and walking towards the stairs. She slowly walked down them, cringing as he heard one of them creak, and freezing in place.
Where is he she wondered when she didn't see him coming into view. She continued her walk downwards, finding missing things right next to the door. She walked over to them quickly, not planning on putting them on until she was as far from this place as possibly, only to be grabbed from behind.
A startled scream left her as he picked her up and carried her back up the stairs, a task that should have been a bit difficult due to the erratic movements she made in her struggle to get free, but they didn't seem to bother him all that much as he carried her back into his room.
"Let me go," she said, fear evident in her voice, moments before he pushed her back onto the bed, and grabbing her wrists with one hand, and covering her mouth with the other. He was strattling her, locking her small form underneath his as he bent down until his face was right in front of hers. He leaned down until his mouth was next to her ear, and whispered," I'm going to let you go, but only if you promise not to make a single sound, and not to move from the bed. Do you promise?"
She nodded, lying, as she planned on moving the minute she could, to get out of the house. She knew the exact way to where she was going to go – she wouldn't even stop for her coat and shoes, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.
He didn't move for several minutes, as if testing her sincerity, then he stood, heading straight for the door, closing and locking it. Her eyes widened as she realized that there was a deadbolt on it, one of those strange ones that were a key lock on both sides. She slowly pulled herself into a ball, wrapping her arms around her legs, and looked around the room.
She was scared – no, not scared. She was terrified. Donna had no idea what he wanted with her, but the only idea she could think of was one she didn't want to even contemplate. As she sat there – faintly, she could hear the shower going in the bathroom – she chastened herself for being so stupid to get into the car with him, much less come into the house and take that drink he gave her.
She put her head down, tears welling up in her eyes at her stupidity. She stayed in that position, softly crying, until she heard the bathroom door open. She looked up, squeaking immediately when she noticed that he was only wearing a towel wrapped around his waist. She looked down quickly, not wanting to see anything else.
Please just be getting some clothes, please just be getting some clothes she prayed, tensing as she felt the bed sink down. She could both hear and feel him crawling towards her, his skin scraping against the blankets while his knees and hands. Donna trembled as she was pulled into him, one of his arms coming around her waist. His free hand went to her chin, grabbing hand holding it still.
Her eyes widened as she realized what he was going to do next.
"N-" she started to sound, only to have it die as he kissed her harshly. His beard was scratchy, uncomfortable on her smooth skin. His hand left her chin, coming down to settle on one of her breast for a moment before finding the buttons of her shirt and beginning to undo them. She turned her head away while grabbing his hand with both of her own.
"No," she said, trying to push him away. He didn't take to that well, his one arm moving from her waist to grab at her hair. He gripped it tightly, yanking it back.
"Ow," she whimpered, her head following her hair while her hands had let go of the one trying to take off her shirt. Her breath came out in quick, slightly panicked, pants.
"Don't try that again," he said, his voice low as he began unbuttoning her shirt yet again. This time, she didn't try to stop him – well, not in a successful manner, as, anytime it seemed like she would, he would tighten his grip on her hair. She knew that she felt several of the strands part from her head.
He let go of her hair once her shirt was unbuttoned, pushing it down her while bringing his hand to her back, and messing with the clasp of her bra. She pushed at him when he did that, whimpering as she felt her bra slacken. He pushed her down flat on the bed, pulling her bra down from her shoulders in a quick move that she wasn't quite expecting. She immediately tried to cover up, something he didn't quite appreciate, for he immediately grabbed her wrists and pulled them away so that he could feast of her bare breasts, immediately leaning down to suck a nipple into his mouth.
He put her wrists together in one hand above her head, his other going down to her jeans as he played with what he was considering to be his new toys. Flicking open the button on her jeans, he snuck his hand down, going under her panties as well. He didn't quite touch her there yet, mostly hovered, but he was close enough to make her very uncomfortable.
More tears filled her eyes at the motion. She'd stopped struggling, thinking that, if she didn't struggle he'd let her go, which proved to be half correct; he'd released her wrists, but only so that he could draw her pants and panties down her legs. She snapped her legs shut immediately, though she knew that it wouldn't do much good, a feat proven correct as his hands grabbed at them and pulled them apart enough for him to settle himself between them.
She then realized that, at some point before hand, he'd divested himself of the towel, leaving him just as bare as she was now. Her eyes widened at the sight of his member. It was the first one she'd ever seen, and it looked...intimidating. It was jutting out from his body, looking thick and swollen.
She looked from it, to his face, back to it, and finally settled onto his face, looking completely terrified.
"Please don't do this," she begged. Her hands came up to push him away, but her meager strength was nothing to him, and as he just forced his way down on her, crashing his lips onto hers once again. Settling his way between her thighs, he grabbed her wrists once more, settling them against the bed, moments before he thrust into her, swallowing her scream as he destroyed the barrier that proved her innocence.
He didn't wait to let you adjust to him, continuing to thrust into her, ripping his mouth from her lips to caress the skin on he neck.
She cried harshly. It hurt. His harsh movements sent waves of pain through her, and she wished that he would finish sooner rather than later. She felt him turn them over so that she was on top of him, and he grabbed her hips, using his hands to make her move in time with his upward thrusts. After doing this for a while, he rolled them back over onto her back, his thrusts speeding up as he felt his climax approaching.
He pushed into her harshly one final time, stilling as his climax him him, and groaning out her name in a whispered pant. He collapsed on her, knocking her breath from her. He held still for a few minutes, as she struggled to breathe. Finally, he got himself off of her, pulling out. She hissed in pain.
He looked at the clock, noting the lateness of the hour, and reached down, grabbing her clothes from where he'd thrown them, and putting them onto the bed. Then, he got himself dressed, unlocking the door and heading out in order to get his shoes on.
Donna didn't really notice, in too much shock over what just happened. The only the that was really registering in her mind other than shock was pain. Fenton, upon noticing her rather lack of movement upon his return, thought about having her stay there with him, only to sigh as he realized that he had no idea when her parents would be back.
He pulled her to him, dressing him as best as he could before picking her up bridal style, carrying her downstairs. Grabbing her jacket, shoes, and socks, he carried her all the way to the car, placing her into the seat, and going back to the house to grab his keys, as well as the key he'd pilfered from her earlier. He smiled, looking at the exact copy of it that now graced his key ring. There was a reason he'd drugged her earlier; after all.
While he'd prefer to be in her presence, he only had a short time before the place where he could get a key copied closed. He'd used most of the time she was unconscious – and locked in his room without her shoes, socks, and jacket, though she didn't know that – driving across town to have the key copied. He'd done it so that he could go visit her whenever he wanted, without the problem of not being able to get through the door.
Once he pulled up to her house, he got out of the truck and headed over to the other side, opening the passenger door, and pulling her back into his arms again. She didn't really seem to realize that was was home, until he opened the door and and set her on her feet, setting her key on the table in front of them before walking out, closing the door behind her.
It was the door closing and the sound of his truck driving off that she realized where she was. She turned quickly locking the door as tightly as she could, and heading up the stairs to her room, shutting the door behind her and going straight to her bathroom. The area between her legs was radiating pain, not as much as when he'd first plunged into her, but enough that she was uncomfortable. Still, she wanted, no, needed to be cleaned.
Turning the water on as hot as she would be able to stand it, she stripped out of her clothes, and hopped into the shower. It was as she was scrubbing away at her skin that her tears renewed themselves, the memory of what had just happened replaying itself in her mind, over and over again.
She slid down, shame rolling through her as she cried. She could barely believe that he'd done that, but, more importantly, she couldn't bare the fact that she'd stopped fighting him. She should have continued fighting, until he'd knocked her out. Instead, she'd stopped, letting him take her as he did.
By the time she'd stopped crying, her eyes were red and itchy, she felt tired, and the water was cooling off. Standing up, she finished washing the soap off her skin, turned the water off, and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her body.
She felt a bit better now, enough to think rationally anyway. The first thing she did was pick up the clothes she'd been waring, noticing that there was blood on them where they'd come into contact with her broken innocence. Heading downstairs, she went straight to the washer, throwing the clothes in with soap and turning it on. Then, she dried and dressed herself in some comfy clothes, crawling into bed afterward.
As she was laying in bed, she wondered what she'd do next. Should she tell someone what had happened? Donna quickly vetoed that option. She didn't want anyone to know of her shame, didn't want them to know that she'd let it happened, that she didn't fight against him.
It's my fault she thought. I should have fought, and I didn't. It won't happen again, I know it won't, so there's no reason to tell anyone.
Donna rolled over in he bed, and fell asleep after that thought.