The Taking
The makeup I found does not cover the mark on my neck. I find it hard to think about anything else. The makeup does not cover the mark on my neck.
He took me last night. I thought at first he was in a teasing mood, throwing me to the couch. Even when he shackled my wrists ... even when he told me to draw my knees upward and plant my feet ... This was no different than laying on the floor, perfecting a position ... learning my vulnerability. By his order I could not speak.
Even when he lay heavy on me, his hardness pressing against against my thigh and belly... my body of its own will beginning to writhe and respond hotly to him ... even then I thought in the rational part of my mind that he would suddenly stop, unshackle my wrists and push me from the couch to the mat. He said he was not making love to me. I will never forget the look on his face. Calm, determined... a hint of color in the steel of his eyes. There would be no refusal. He would accept no less than taking the total girl.
In the morning he was gone when I awoke, my left wrist now unshackled as well. My body ached.
I looked again in the mirror. My skin is reddened and abraided. My lips swollen and full. I recognize myself even less than yesterday. My neck ... the makeup does not cover the bruised mark on my neck.