Revenge

*Just a warning, this chapter contains rape and violence, told mostly from the perpetrator's viewpoint (but also from the victim's). If you are uncomfortable with this subject matter, then don't read it.*

He giggled again as she tried to scoot backwards, away from him. She whimpeloudloudly as he placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed them apart. Her skin was so soft and smooth. He could feel her thigh muscles tightening as she struggled to close her legs, inadvertently pushing them against his hands. Her complexion was perfect, her skin was silk-smooth...he wanted to bruise and damage it as much as humanly possibly. He wanted to hurt her, make her cry and scream and bleed. He crawled toward her, holding her legs apart with his knees as he shoved his hands up her slip, tearing it nearly in half. He arched his eyebrows in surprise; she wasn't wearing underwear. How convenient, he thought, running a finger along her clit. It was soft and warm and slightly damp, and he felt it shudder at his touch. He stared down at her, examining her nervous, trembling pussy. It was beautiful and perfect, just like the rest of her. All the more reason for him to ravage it.

The fact that he was just staring down at her was making her more uncomfortable that the knowledge that he was going to rape her. She watched him as he turned his head and squinted, examining her. He ran a finger along her clit, not really applying any pressure to it. It was a light, simple touch that sent a mix of terror and arousal through her. If only this was Kurt or Logan staring down at her, touching her, and not Toad. Anyone but Toad. She shuddered,ing ing to pull her hips back. His head snapped up, as if she'd interrupted a thought process, and he grabbed her hips, pulling them towards him. No, no, please don't do this...she knew it was no use to even think of pleading with him.

The sedatives would last for up to five hours, or so Erik had said. He still wasn't sure; their effects might not last as long on the Wolverine. He would have to work quickly. He slipped a finger into her, probing lightly. She was dry. He withdrew his finger and glanced up at her. "A bit dry, love?" He lowered his head, closing his eyes, placing himself between her legs. He wasn't a big fan of this, but according to Raven, women got off on it. The taste threw him off completely; it was thick and salty, almost bitter. He flicked her clit with his tongue, feeling it tremble slightly. He worked his tongue into her, probing and groping and trying to ignore the slick bitterness that was slowly filling his mouth. He heard her whimper again, but it wasn't from fear this time. It was a soft, mewling noise that sounded almost like a gasp. He smiled, jabbing at her with his tongue, applying pressure. He could feel her becoming wetter and wetter, and felt her muscles clenching and unclenching, gripping his tongue lightly. She was getting off on this.

She closed her eyes as another wave of pleasure washed over her. She knew that she shouldn't feel this way, that she shouldn't be turned on at all by this. After all, he was violating her. She hadn't given her consent; this was a form of rape...but it felt so good. She felt his tongue stretching, pushing forward rubbing against her g-spot. She was nearing an orgasm. Each new wave of pleasure held an undeniahinthint of shame in it, but the pangs of embarrassment were slowly beginning to fade as she neared her climax.

He could tell by her breathing that she was almost there. He slowly began to withdraw his tongue, watching her carefully. Sas was wet enough for him now, no doubt about that. She bucked her hips, bringing her pussy closer to him, silently begging for more. He grinned, pulling his tongue back and flicking it out again, bringing it crashing down across her clit. He'd put force into it, turning it into a sort of whip and sending pain shooting up through her. Her eyes flew open, followed by a muffled scream. He turned his head and spat, ridding the taste of her from his mouth. "You didn't think I came here to pleasure you, did you?" he taunted, sitting up and pulling down his pants. She was still trying to recover from the sudden slap when he shoved himself inside of her. He moved quickly, pulling back and thrusting harder. The muffled screams were becoming slightly louder and more frequent.

She shut her eyes as he slammed into her hips again. He was moving too fast, not giving her time to adjust to him. He was about average in size, and she figured that under a more normal circumstance this wouldn't hurt so much. She turned her head away from him, trying to escape his heavy breathing and occasional grunts. She grimaced at the slick wet sound of his skin hitting hers. That combined with the sharp, burning pain that rose up through her thighs. She felt hot tears of pain buiilding up underneath her eyelids, and they began to escape, trickling down her face.

He grabbed her by the hair, jerking her head up off the pillows. Her eyes opened, releasing a flood of tears. He grinned and pressed harder into her. "Don't close your eyes, love," he whispered, "I want you to watch." He jerked her head down, forcing her to watch his dark green body thrusting against her tan one. He rode her, slamming himself into her, intent on bruising her perfect skin. He felt a rush of warmth surround him, and noticed a thin river of blood snake down her thigh. He groaned, letting go of her hair, allowing her to fall back against the pillows. She whimpered, clenching and unclenching her hands. He took hold of one of her fingers and snapped it back. He nearly came when she tried to scream.

Her whole body was full of pain, but it felt strongest between her legs. She wanted to close her eyes, to turn away, to block it all out, but he wouldn't let her. He grabbed her by the hair again, pulling violently, and slapped her hard across the face, leaving a crimson handprint on her cheek. She watched as he continued to ride her, each thrust leaving bruises across her thighs. She tried to force back the tears and the screams, but to no avail. He was getting exactly what he'd wanted from her, and he was getting off on it. Her hips were starting to go numb; in another moment, it wouldn't hurt so much. But 'another moment' never came; he climaxed and rolled off of her, panting as he pulled his pants back up.

"You like that, love?" he asked, zipping his fly. He looked down at her. Blood was smeared across her thighs, and stark blackish-purple bruises were starting to form on them. He grinned and turned his attention to her tear-stained face. Despite her tears, she was still pretty. "You get what you deserve," he hissed, leaning in and punching her. His fist hit her face hard, knocking her back against the headboard. He felt her nose cave in under his fist, the delicate bones crunching softly and felt her warm blood spurt out onto his hand. He got off of her, wiping his bloody hand on her torn slip. "Catch you laterve,\ve," he whispered, picking up his knapsack and darting out the door and into the hallway, slipping out the open window and into the night.