This is a one shot that begged to be written. Without further ado...Pain and Pleasure! THIS HAS BEEN REVISED ONCE In an effort to make it more realistic, I've lengthened it just slightly and added some more details, like the whole shock thing. Enjoy!
Pain and Pleasure
"Hey, you're Roxanne, right?"
I turned around, and there was Michael, a university student from the college on the other side of the campus. What would a university student be doing over in high school territory? It wasn't like you didn't see university students on this side often; in fact, it was actually quite common to see them around. But they never had any business with us younger students.
Michael ran a hand through his short, spiky hair. "Are you gonna answer me or not?"
"Yeah, I'm Roxanne," I said. "Why?"
"Mmm," he sighed. "You're hot today."
"I beg your pardon?" I said, my voice elevating in pitch and giving away my surprise and repulsion. "Are you hitting on me?"
"I might be," he said. "Depends on how you look at it."
I scowled and continued to walk to my next class. "The way I'm looking at it, you could go to jail," I said. "I'm not eighteen yet. You try to touch me, and you're going to be arrested." Lies. I had turned eighteen a month ago.
"Not if you don't tell anybody," he purred.
I rolled my eyes. "Leave me alone," I said harshly and walked away.
He didn't follow me. "Damn, that hurts," he yelled. "Rejection fuckin' hurts!"
So what? I wanted to yell at him. He wasn't even that good looking. I left him behind, not looking back. I wanted no business with him. He'd have to find someone else to take his fantasies to.
I passed a similar-looking boy with the same color hair. His eyes were a gray-blue color, chips of glowing ice set in a young face. I recognized him as Neil, Michael's younger brother. He was in my next class, and then in two others later in the day.
"What's with your brother?" I asked him.
"He likes you," he said, shrugging. There was a hint of resentment in his voice. Something must have happened between them.
Scoffing, I said, "If he likes me, then that's just too bad for him. I don't like him in any sense. I mean, look at him!" I turned to face where I had left him. He was still there, glaring at either Neil or me. "He's a total lunatic. Sorry, but I'm not getting anywhere near him."
"Good," Neil said. "He'll just end up taking advantage of you. That's all he wants. He does this every time I tell him of someone."
I looked at him. "What do you mean, tell him of someone?"
He shook his head. "Never mind. Forget I ever said that." He hurried away into the ancient castle we use as a high school and entered a classroom down the hall. I sighed and followed him.
Since that day, Michael has been hounding me, saying some interesting things. "All I want is you. It won't help to run away. I'll get my way eventually. You should be honored that a university student has the hots for you!"
And since that day, Neil has been at my side whenever Michael was in sight. He protected me. I became entirely dependent on him. However, his temper steadily increased with everything that his brother said to me. "You don't want her. Just keep walking, Rox. Don't involve her. Honor this!" he yelled when Michael said that "honor" comment. Neil spun around and threw a punch at him.
It didn't hit; Neil had enough self control to stop his fist a mere inch from Mike's nose. It shocked Michael into lying low and not speaking for the next few days. He did nothing but stalk me, despite the fact that Neil was always there.
I grew to like Neil. It was obvious that I would fall for him. But I forced myself to think of us as nothing more than friends.
It was after school one day that my parents, out of the blue, decided it was time to ask me about my nonexistent love life.
"So, is there anyone you're interested in?" my mother asked me.
"Uh, no," I lied. "But there is someone who is interested in me."
My father suddenly became interested. "Really? Who is it? Anyone we know?"
I looked from my mother to my father. "Has something gotten into you two? Why this sudden interest in who likes me or who I like?"
"Well, we noticed that you never express an interest in anyone, so we were wondering if you're just not telling us anything." My mother looked at me with concerned eyes. "Is there something you want to tell us?"
"No," I said.
"Will you let her answer my question?" my father said. "Who likes you? Who is it?"
I shook my head. "I don't think he likes me, really. I just think he wants to take advantage of me. His little brother said so."
"Who is it?" my father demanded.
"It's Michael Archings," I said reluctantly. "And his little brother is Neil Archings. Actually, I think his first name is Jacob, but everyone calls him Neil for some reason..." I trailed off.
"I've heard of them, the Archings family. The younger one is a good kid. But Mike...he's trouble. Stay away from him if you can," my mother said.
I nodded. "Sure," I said. "I don't even like the guy. I think he's a jerk and a loser and just downright stupid. But his brother...you're right, he is a good kid. I don't have to stay away from him, do I?"
My parents shook their heads. "You've told us about him once," they said. "We think he's okay for you to be around. Just don't go anywhere near Michael. He's trouble."
Smiling, I said, "Okay, you got it."
One day, Michael grew more conceited that ever. He was talking to me, sputtering words that were hardly coherent. Finally he said, "Look at me when I'm talking to you, slut!" and he slapped me across my face.
I fell to the ground, spinning away from him so I could land on my hands and knees. The people nearby gasped and walked away in horror. I felt my face; it stung at my touch. My hand was covered in warm, salty blood. Somehow I had started to bleed.
I looked at his hands and saw it: a ring with scratchy and undone sides, set to rip the enemy's face. I could just imagine how many tiny blades were on that ring...
Neil rushed to my side and hoisted me up off the ground. My thick tan coat was ruined; my uniform skirt was unbearably short. I squeezed my knees together in an effort to conceal my embarrassing underwear.
"Are you okay, Roxanne?" he asked me.
I grunted as I pressed my hand to my bloody cheek. "Yeah, I'm fine, just a little shocked." I glared at Michael; he seemed to be distracted by his little brother. "Can you take me to the infirmary?" I asked him.
Neil tore his eyes away from his brother and nodded at me. "Can you walk?" he asked, concerned.
Placing one foot in front of the other, I replied, "Yeah. But, you know," I said lowly, directing a side glance at the university student.
"You traitor! Damn you!" Mike yelled at Neil. "I'll have your shitty head for this!" Neil ushered me to the high school office, checking over his back often. Michael was always just standing there, scowling at him. I tried not to pay attention to him and focused on the way Neil was steadying me, gripping my shoulders.
We got to the office, but Neil quickly left before I could say thank you. I don't know where he went, but it was probably to reason with Mike.
Later in the week while I was out walking home, I passed an open van. I tried not to look in it. When I walked in front of its open side door, something tackled me. I found myself on the floor of the van, my hands being tied together and my eyes covered with a blindfold.
I tried to scream, but a large hand silenced me by clamping my mouth shut. "I don't want to hurt you," the assailant said. "But if you continue to scream, I will be forced to take drastic measures." I nodded in understanding and he went up to the front of the van and started to drive.
It hit me that I was being kidnapped.
After watching specials of it on TV, I knew it could happen anytime to anyone. I wasn't being careful this evening. I foolishly walked home alone, in the dark, without any flashlight or caution or nothing. I was just bait, a sitting duck.
I started to cry. If this man was nice, he'd send out a ransom before raping me and killing me, leaving my dismembered body in a Dumpster behind a convenience store. If he was mean, then I would have five minutes of rape and then a slow, painful death full of screams and blood and everything. The tears came harder, but I made no sound. I knew if I made a sound, he would kill me without robbing me of my virginity beforehand. Which might have been better. I could die a virgin.
It only took us a few minutes to stop. I waited for the pain. The man turned off the van and climbed in back. Sliding the door open, he didn't step on me or kick me like I thought he would. He picked me up softly and carried me away, my arms still bound and my eyes still blindfolded.
We went through a door by the sound of it. He walked a little ways, turning twice, and then threw me on a bed. My heart raced. He was going to rape me.
"I'm sorry. Just go with it," he said. The blindfold came off. I got one look of his eyes—blue—before he pushed himself onto me. He kissed me harshly, pressing his lips against mine, sucking on my lower lip. I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want to see this man, this horrible sinner who wasted his time on raping girls. He moved down to my neck and started to softly nibble my pale skin. I felt him harden against my thigh.
It was only a matter of time before he started undoing my clothes.
The shirt came first; it was interfering with his face, scratching him. He had taken off my coat long ago and had discarded it somewhere. He undid his own shirt, pressing his warm skin onto me. My shoes clattered to the floor. He undid the fly of my jeans and yanked them off of me, throwing them behind him. He shimmied out of his pants and they fell to the floor. I suddenly got very cold, being almost naked. All that was left to take off was my bra, socks and underwear, and then he'd be able to do whatever he wanted.
He unclipped my bra and threw it out of my reach. He buried his face in my breasts, sucking on a nipple. I groaned. Why did the first person to do this to me have to be someone I didn't know?
Moving downward, he started massaging them and teethed on my naval at the same time. I grew infuriated. He had the nerve to do this! I will never ignore an Amber Alert again. This was downright disrespectful.
The underwear came off, too, and if I wasn't feeling self-conscious before, I was now. His boxers flew across the room as we were naked together. He went back up to kissing me, his hands still on my chest, and parted his lips. I gasped, and his slimy tongue slipped into my mouth. I thought of biting it, but I didn't want my mouth to be filled with his blood. I also didn't want to die, which influenced my decisions greatly.
The man moved down again, kissing my neck, my chest, my waist, and finally stopped when he got there. I braced myself, thinking he was surely going to start licking there, too. But he didn't. He got up and left me waiting, unwrapping something metallic sounding. I realized it was a condom.
I failed to breathe evenly. My heart raced faster. He came towards me. I laid on the bed, helpless, frail, a toy to him. He spread my legs and I felt something go in.
It burned. I wriggled in pain and pleasure, trying to get away. He held me down, a large hand gripping both my wrists as he fucked me. He groaned; apparently this was exactly for him as it was for me.
He thrust in, and I felt more pain. My blood boiled; it rushed through my body, warming my ice cold feet. He spread me wider and slipped in another inch. I arched my back, gasping at how it felt.
Tears spilled down my face, and I wished it wasn't some unknown doing this to me. I realized with clarity that I wanted Neil here, not only to comfort me but to also me my attacker. If Neil was doing these things, then I would be okay. With a pain I realized I loved him, but he would never be able to know, because I would surely die tonight.
I opened my eyes and thought I saw him in the attacker's place: chips of ice for eyes, short, ruffled hair...I imagined he was doing this to me. I closed my eyes again.
He withdrew, ending the pain easily. He massaged the most sensitive part down there, and I yelped when he got it right. His soft fingers moved in circles, rubbing it until I felt like I was on fire. I became putty in his hands; the fire never ceased. I groaned, and I think I said Neil's name once or twice. When I did that, he stopped, but then went back to work.
He finally stopped and slowly lurked up to me. "Who's Neil?" he asked.
My eyes were closed; I didn't take the opportunity to look at his face. "He's a friend," I said, gasping. "And I love him. But he'll never know because you're going to kill me later."
He tensed as he peeled the condom off and threw it away. "Who said that?" he whispered into my ear. I winced as his teeth grazed my chin.
"It's just common sense," I said. "And he would never understand." I scolded myself. I was never supposed to talk with strangers.
He wiped me up with a towel and slipped my underwear back on. "He would understand," the attacker said. "I went through the same thing. I realize now that it was stupid to do...things I did in the past." He fastened my bra back on and retrieved his boxers, getting them on quickly.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked him as he buttoned up my shirt.
"Because I'm a good guy at heart. I thought I was helping you by bringing you here and doing those things, but you'll always hate me. I apologize." He stuck my feet through the legs of my pants and pulled them up hesitantly, buttoning them and zipping them up.
I sighed. "Why aren't you killing me? Isn't that what you were originally going to do?" His shirt was back on, and he carefully placed my shoes on my feet.
He crawled on the bed, hovering above me, spraying places with a can of sweet smelling mist. I willed my eyes open, and his charming blue eyes grinned back at me. "Silly girl," he said, leaning closer, obstructing my vision. "I did this to prevent your murder." And then he kissed me, softly, sweetly, like a boyfriend would kiss his girlfriend.
I kissed him back, fighting the moisture that had blurred my vision more. He was sparing me! I loved him for that. He was giving me a second chance. Maybe I could make things right with Neil.
Slowly, he lifted himself off of me. The moisture had broken through my closed eyelids; Niagara Falls would get a run for its money if I was around like this. "There. That was how a first kiss should be. I'm sorry for being your first in many different ways. But I thought I was protecting you from death by doing this.
"There is a note in your coat pocket. I would like you to ignore it until you get to your house. It explains everything. Open your eyes, please," he said.
It did no good; I could only see a blurry figure come very close to me. His lips brushed mine and I shivered. He laughed and kissed me again, still hovering above me, his hands shaking from holding himself up.
When was I ever going to get a chance like this again? I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him closer to me. I cried. This man was actually nice! He raped me, yes, but in the end, when I replaced him with Neil, it turned from rape to something else, something desirable. He opened his mouth a little ways in a smile, and I was the one this time to stick my tongue in the other's throat.
He rolled onto his side, embracing me in his strong, iron grip. I wished it was Neil holding me, but this person would do just as well. However, he gripped my shoulders and pushed me away. "I'm sorry, but I can't. Your coat is near the door. Go home, Rox. Go home and enjoy your second chance. Run away!"
I tried to move, but my vision swarmed with purple and green splats of color, telling me sleep was absolutely necessary to continue. My eyes were still closed. I tried again to move. The shock was now coming over me, I could feel it settle in my bones and in the pit of my stomach. "I'm sorry," I said. "But I'm afraid I can't move."
I heard him sigh, and then his hands moved from my shoulders. I heard the bed move as he got up. "Then you'll have to sleep here tonight," he said. My heart stopped. Was he about to rape me again, even though he had just finished getting me dressed?
My head swam. "Uh, okay," I said hesitantly.
"I know what you're thinking. I have another room down the hall from here. I won't be anywhere near you," he assured me. I heard the door open, but then he said, "If you need anything, please come wake me." And then he left, closing the door behind him.
He left me alone. The shock of being left alone to sleep after being raped—it was unreal. He wasn't going to kill me. He wasn't going to kill me! I felt like running after him and showering him with kisses. Did he know how honored I felt? Did he know how little I expected to live through this ordeal? How I knew that normal rapists weren't so easy going, so gentle with their targets?
The shock seeped into my brain, shutting down, sensing a threat. It was ten minutes late. What a wonderful nerve system I have. Maybe if I had shut down earlier in the night, he would have found my body useless and have disposed of me like a normal rapist would have. I wasn't even supposed to be alive right now, and here I was, trying to get to sleep on a very large bed.
I sniffed. Ew. Sure, he had sprayed the bed with disinfectant, but it didn't get through to the smell. I groaned as my unresponsive limbs refused to move. I was stuck here.
My head went into overdrive. What had compelled him to rape me? He said he was protecting me, but from what, exactly? I didn't get any further than that thought, because the shock slowly rendered my brain useless.
I woke up in exactly the same position I had fallen asleep in: facing up on my back, ankles touching, arms spread out to my sides. I forced my eyes open; it was dark still. I could see no windows from where I was. This was a very sad room.
I looked to my left, where the empty expanse of the bed should have been. But instead of an empty bed, I saw a curled up figure with a mess of dark hair. I shuddered. It was him, my attacker. I slowly got up, wincing all the way while I lifted my upper body up. The bed squeaked and I froze while he stirred.
He groaned and turned over, his eyes flying open with awareness. I caught them: light blue, tired, remorseful eyes. He closed them and covered his face.
"You're up?" he asked softly.
"Yes," I said. "I'm rested. Thank you."
He sighed. "So now you leave."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Yes. Now I leave. Thank you so much," I said, blushing.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" he asked. "You've been given your second chance. Go so you won't get in any more trouble." He reached out for my hand, and I resisted the instinct to shy away from his fingers. He stroked my hand, and then covered his face again.
I stood up. He rolled over with his back facing towards me, hiding his face. "Thank you for this second chance," I said. I ran away, leaving the attacker there, lying on the bed.
It didn't take long for me to find the door. I opened it and buttoned up my coat. The sun was just rising, the grays of night vanishing with the oranges, pinks and yellows of dawn. I knew where I was; in reality he kept me only two miles from my house. I ran; if I ran the whole way I would make it back in half an hour.
I kept thinking about the attacker's voice. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. I felt so grateful for a second chance. Second chances don't come often.
I wished to run, but my body was still stiff from sleeping after that...event. Making it to my house in just longer than an hour, I stared at it, catching my breath. It felt like so long since I had been sheltered by its tall, white walls and under its great, wide roof. It was truly a haven to me now.
I walked up the few steps to the front door and threw it open. My parents gasped as I leaned against the door frame, breathing hard. I sunk to the floor.
"What happened to you? We were so worried!" my mother said.
"Someone told us you were kidnapped!" my father said. "What happened exactly? Were you raped?"
I looked away. "Yes, I was kidnapped. I know you were worried. Yes, I was raped." I heard their intake of air very clearly as they looked at each other. "But don't arrest him! I don't know who he was, but he gave me a second chance. Please don't hunt him down. He's a good person."
Where was I getting this from? He was a terrible person! He raped me! I stuck my hands in my pockets, searching for the note that explained it all. "Let me read this, okay?" I asked them.
"Roxanne," it read. "Please forgive me. I never wanted to do it. I loved you, and my brother wanted you for himself." A sick feeling twisted my gut as a single face came into my head. I continued to read it silently: "He said that if I didn't let him have you, he'd kill you. I couldn't have that. I wouldn't let him win. So he gave me a choice: rape you or let you die by his hands." I gasped. The attacker was protecting me, just like he said. "Obviously I chose the former, but we both know it was a mistake. I'm so sorry for all the pain I caused. Stay away from Montgomery and Vernon. You'll see bad things if you go there. I wanted to say I'm sorry and I love you before I killed myself.
"So, with all that said, I love you so much. I'm terribly sorry for what I've done. You don't have to forgive me. I'll be leaving this world in a few minutes. Farewell, love. Jacob Neil Archings."
I tried to say something, but all I could manage was a squeak. I stared blankly at the paper. My mother snatched it from my hands as tears flooded my sight again. She read it once and gave it to my father, who read it, too. I stood up mechanically, my mission now very clear to me.
"What are you doing?" my mother shrieked when I opened the door.
"I'm going," I said, expressing my dire need to see him again. "I have to find him. You can't stop me."
She grabbed my wrist. "You're not going anywhere! We need to turn this man in," she said, waving the note in my face.
"Mom," I pleaded. "Please let me do this. I need to see him one last time. I need to stop him!"
My father stood up from his chair and swelled up, seeming to fill the room with his bulk. "You are not going anywhere, young lady!" he thundered. "You are staying here. You're simply exhausted."
"Be reasonable, Roxanne," my mother said, tightening her hand on my wrist. "You're in no condition to go out. You must tell us everything. We need to turn this man in."
"No," I said, shaking my head and yanking my wrist out of her hold. "I'm leaving to see Neil. I need to stop him from killing himself!" I dashed out the door to the corner of Montgomery and Vernon, because he said to stay away. He must be planning his suicide there.
I got there in minutes despite my lack of energy; the large intersection was only a few blocks from my house. I worried for the man I loved. I came to the intersection, looking at the crosswalks. He was on the center divider, his back turned away from me. He wasn't walking, even though the hand was counting down from ten.
I ran across the street, breathing hard, dodging people. He just stood there. I burst through the last group of people as the time ticked down to zero and the hand stopped blinking. He took a step off of the island and into the street...
He turned, and I slammed into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, my hands clenching at his jacket. He grunted and stumbled to the ground. I checked to see if the cars were moving yet.
"Come on, Neil, you have to get up," I said, hoisting him up.
"Is that you, Rox?" he asked, standing up slowly, turning around in my grip. I looked up at him, and seeing his icy blue eyes, buried my face in his chest. "What are you doing?"
I dragged him backwards, back onto the island as the first cars sped across the intersection. "I'm saving you! I don't want you dead. I love you," I blurted out.
"Do you know what you're saying?" he asked, whispering in my ear. "I raped you, for crying out loud. I'm punishing myself. You should be happy, not sad."
My face was streamed with tears as I looked up at him again. Tears were in his eyes. I sniffed. "Suicide is the most selfish thing out there, Neil. Do you know what I would do if you died? I wouldn't be able to live."
He pressed my head to his chest. "You can't make me change my mind," he said. "I'm still killing myself. What I did to you is inexcusable."
I pounded his shoulders. "Are you crazy? I just said I love you, you asshole!" I said. It was one of those times I was so frustrated I swore.
"You're the crazy one," he said, his mouth so close to me I could feel his lips on my ear.
"No," I said, gripping his jacket tighter. "Let's go home. I need to talk with you."
He pushed me away to look at me. My eyes, I'm sure, were red and puffy from crying; my hair was messed up from not being brushed in a day; my clothes hadn't been changed yet. "I'm doing this for you because I love you more," he said.
I grunted and hugged him again. "If you love me, then you'll let me take you to my house," I told him.
"I said no," he repeated. "You can't change my mind. It's better this way."
"Please, Neil," I whispered. "I love you. How can I make it more clear to you that I don't want you gone?"
He shook his head. "Roxanne, I must do this. I hate leaving you alone with Michael, but I can't continue living with myself..." He stopped speaking because I had pulled him to me, to my face. I kissed his gently, sweetly, like he did before. I felt his hands clench on my coat as the kiss deepened.
With great difficulty, I tore myself away from him and pressed my forehead to his collarbone. "Please, Neil," I pleaded again. "You have no idea what kind of torture you would be putting me through if you killed yourself. I would be broken, and Mike might try to kill me if you're not around."
He sighed, at last giving in. "Fine, we'll go to your house. Quick, the lights have changed. Let's go."
My mother and father were watching the whole fiasco from across the street. They had followed me when I left, to my surprise. They hated Neil for kidnapping me, but they eventually understood his motives. I persuaded them not to turn him in.
It was once my parents left--and after five o'clock--that I got to talk to him again. We were sitting in the couch in my living room, the lights dimmed to avoid blinding us. My parents had gone upstairs in the office to talk about what to do with him.
I nuzzled his neck, resting my head on his shoulder. He sighed. "What have I done?" he asked.
"You've done the right thing," I told him. "Suicide is not the answer, Neil."
"I've let a tyrant live!" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I...I still can't forgive myself for doing what I did to you."
I kissed his neck once and wrapped my arms around his waist. "It's fine," I persuaded him. "I forgive you. You were just trying to protect me, weren't you? From Mike?"
"Yeah, protecting you from my older brother by raping you," he said. "It doesn't sound like I protected you at all. I've hurt you so much, mentally and physically, perhaps. It was a foolish thing to do. I will never live it down."
"Neil," I said, sitting up straight and looking him in the eye. "You did what was right for you. I don't blame you. Mike gave you two choices, and you chose the one that made more sense to you. My parents aren't going to send you to jail. I'm going to say you did it out of compassion if you're brought to trial. I'd be on your side."
"They don't normally have the victim and the suspect on the same side, do they?" he said, leaning in closer.
I thought about it. "No," I finally said. "But they'll make an exception for us."
"Will they?" he asked rhetorically.
"Neil, I love you, and I will not let them send you to jail."
"Rox, I love you too, but I have to punish myself some way. Suicide is really the only way."
I shook my head. "Living with what you've done is harder than killing yourself," I told him. "If you really want to punish yourself, live. With me."
He sighed. "You win," he said. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I lost myself in bliss as I parted my lips. He fought with my tongue for dominance over my mouth, but the little war ended when I tilted my head and stuck my own tongue in his mouth. We were molded, together as one, so tightly bound it was hard to get away.
He smiled as I pulled back, ending the kiss, and he pressed his cheek to mine. "We'll get through this," I told him.
"I know," he said, and kissed me once more as my parents came downstairs.
A/N: How was it? I revised it do make it longer and a little more realistic. If you guys like it, then I'll make another chapter. If it was absolutely horrible, that's okay, too. Penny for your thoughts?