Elijah Wood is a species all his own. Senioris Assius.
Actually, I don't think he is a senior. He's 19, but he might be a junior. He hardly deserves to be a freshman. He never studies anything but my butt, never does his work, never does much of anything really, except hit on me every chance he gets.
Unfortunately, due to his behavior, I end up writing him up frequently for sexual harassment. And the brilliant principal's advice is to give him detention hall.
Yes, for grabbing my ass in front of the whole class, the office sent him back with a recommendation that I keep him after school. In a room, alone with me, for two hours. Brilliant.
So there we are- me grading papers, him ogling me and whistling, and me begging the clock to hit five as soon as possible. He comes up to my desk. I turn to him, asking him what he needs.
He grabs my wrists. "To finish what I started in class today."
He pulls a bandanna out of his pocket and ties my wrists together, in one swift motion, before I even know what is happening. All I can think to say was "No. Please. Please. No." and my whispered pleas are ignored. I choke those two words up, over and over, until there are no words left.
"Shut up," he says. And it doesn't occur to me to scream, or even to continue my feeble begging. I just cry silently, hoping he won't hurt me too much.
His hand comes crashing onto my face, a burning slap. I cry harder. He hits me again, at least ten times. And every time it stung worse. My whole body is shaking and it feels like my face is on fire. And I'm sobbing so hard. "Shut up, slut," Elijah told me. "Shut up and get on your knees."
Not wanting to be hit again, I drop to my knees, hands still tied behind my back. I look at the floor, terrified for my life.
"Look at me, you little whore."
I look at him, avoiding his eyes.
"I'm going to untie your hands, little slut. But if you try to escape, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp and leave you here to die." Something in his growling voice told me he means it. He unties my hands, removes my shirt, and unsnaps my bra. I can feel my breasts being exposed, touching the cold air. No one has ever touched me like this before, in all my twenty-two years. No one has ever touched my breasts. And this boy, this huge student, is going to be the first.
His big black hands grab my breast tightly, squeezing too hard, and I jump a bit. He slaps me again, and reties my arms behind my back. "See, whore? This is how it's going to be. I've wanted your cunt since the first time I saw you. And today, I'm going to get it. You're going to be my slut today. And there's nothing you can do about it."
I've always been a sweet girl. Sure, I partied a bit in college, but it was innocent drinking. No guys. I got straight As. I became a biology teacher. I did everything right. I'm not a slut. I'm not a whore...
His hands are all over me. And I'm too in shock to scream, or fight back, or even move. He's pulling my nipples, manhandling me, but I'm starting to tingle nonetheless. It doesn't make sense. I don't want this. It doesn't even feel nice.
But it's turning me on somehow. He brutalizes my breasts with his hands and teeth, yanking on my breasts, biting the nipples, squeezing everything too hard.
He starts to lift me, and I don't even protest. I'm five foot two, about a hundred pounds, and very liftable. He throws me down onto a lab table. I bump my head, and my body crashes down hard. He positions me so that my legs are open, and facing him. He spreads them further, removing my shoes. He unbuttons my pants and yanks them off of me.
