It's over. Isn't it over? Oh, dear God, please, I'm so tired. I hurt. I hurt places I never even knew existed, and the worst thing about all this is that it could have been worse.

I know this. Because even in my terror and discomfort I realize that he wasn't as brutal as he might have been. He was more careful than I had any reason to expect. He was, in fact, trying not to hurt me.

And after this relatively lord, how can I use the word gentle to describe a rape? non violent assault, I shudder to imagine what it would have been like if I'd been at the mercy of one of those sadists who find their greatest pleasure in inflicting pain and damage.

I'm in pain, but I'm not really hurt. I can tell this, I know my own body well enough for that. I'm bleeding, but I can feel that it's already slowing, and will stop soon. I'm going to be bruised on my hips from where he held me, and my thighs from the pounding of his body against my own, but he didn't hit me, aside from that one pinch and that one slap. The first was when I tried to stop him from doing what he wanted, the second when I refused to look into his eyes as he snapped my hymen. I'd given up both times. What in heaven's name had he been looking for when he gazed into my eyes and put an end to my innocense, and did he find it?

He's gone now. After he was done, he got up and went into the bathroom. I can hear water running in there.

I think I should move. I should pull my gown closed, pull the hem down to cover myself--I just can't move right now. I'm stunned, and it's more than just the fact that I've been raped. It's that I liked it.

I don't understand how, but I must have, because I had an orgasm. Actually, I had not just one, but two. I might have been able to excuse the first one: there wasn't any hurt involved in it. The oral sex was almost tender, and the physical stimulation was huge. That I could dismiss, but not the other.

I'd pleaded with him to wait, to give me more time, that I wasn't ready. He'd laughed and showed me how my own body had betrayed me. His hand glistening with the evidence of my arousal, he'd told me just how ready I was.

Then he went inside me and I thought I was going to die, or at the very least pass out. But no, my traitor body was apparently eager for each sensation. Instead of going numb and drifting away, like I'd hoped, I was awake, and aware of every minute sensation.

I felt it the moment I entered the ranks of experienced women. Something broke apart inside me, and it wasn't just physical.

What do I have now? I was a virgin, now I'm just a woman. Women are used, and all too often discarded, and in this situation it can be much more literal and dangeroust than being emotionally abandoned. If all he wanted was my cherry, I'm doomed. He'll kill me now, or soon.

Fate has a wicked, cruel sense of humor. I have to hope that my rapist wants to keep having sex with me because if he doesn't, it could mean my life.

The sound of the water stops and he comes back in, leaving the light on behind him so that the room is dimly lit. He's carrying a basin of steaming water and a cloth.

Jerry sets the basin carefully on the floor, then wets the rag and rings it out. Sitting by me on the bed, he says, "How you doin'?"

"I'll live." I hope.

He shrugs. "Sorry it had to be like this, darlin', but you did all right. I counted twice for you, and I only got once."

He's staring at my crotch, and I look down. I'm a mess. My pubic area is matted with blood and our combined sexual fluids, despite that one light pass he gave me with the towel. There are thick smears on my rapidly bruising inner thighs. I start to shove the gown down to cover myself but he stops me.

"Are you ashamed of that? There's nothin' to be ashamed of. It just shows you got loved good and proper." He touches me lightly, fingers skimming in the sticky mess. "Most natural thing in the world." I shudder as he licks his fingers clean.

"I hope Lally can get the stains out of your gown. We'll keep it even if she can't, though. I'm gonna have a lot of good memories attatched to that gown. Now, I expect you'll be a lot more comfortable if you're cleaned up."

I reach for the cloth but he pulls it away, shaking his head, and I know what he intends to do. I steel myself for it.

He wipes me carefully with the warm, damp cloth, first cleaning away the surface muck on my thighs, and even up to my abdomen. He rinses the cloth, then begins on the thicker matter matting my pubic hair.

He works steadily, rinsing the rag frequently. At last he spreads me so that he can clean my innermost parts. The towel stings on sensitive skin. I've been rubbed a little raw, despite the lubrication. I wince, and his touch gentles even more. He re-wets the cloth, and now the heat is soothing, easing away the sting and some of the ache.

I'm now damp and clean. He puts away the cloth but continues stroking my pubic area lightly. "The bleeding's stopped. That's good. You're a little swollen," I feel him gently prod my vagina, pushing an inquisitive fingertip in just a fraction of an inch. When I stiffen he withdraws it. "That's normal, though. All the blood that pumps into that area when you're excited." I close my eyes and turn my head away. "You don't want to think about that do you?"

I feel his lips right against my ear. "But it's true, Scribe. You were excited. You were scared, yeah, and mad, but you were hot. You sang so sweet for me."

I remember those noises I made. I'd sounded positively debauched. "And the way you scratched me, you weren't tryin' to get me to stop then, darlin'" He laughs. "I'll have to put some sort of antiseptic on them tomorrow, but it was worth it. Oh, the way you were heavin' and moanin'! And your first time, too. Ain't you gonna be a wonder once you get broke in good? You know, I near went crazy when you came, and that sweet pussy of yours started milkin' my cock..."

"Stop it," I grate. "If you have an ounce of mercy in you, just stop it."

He's quiet for a minute. "All right, you're tired. Why don't we sleep for a little while, hm?" I feel him pull my gown closed, pull the hem down, and I am absurdely grateful for this concession.

He nudges me over against the wall. I turn on my side to face it as he stretches out beside me. I only hope that the bed is large enough for us to lie without touching.

I suppose I should know better. He turns on his side also and moves up behind me. His arm goes over my waist and he pulls me back against him, spooning my body to his. "Go to sleep, Scribe," he murmers. Not very hopeful, I try.

Jerry's POV

She was upset by the mess. I guess since she'd never done it before she must have expected it to be cleaner--more sterile. Maybe it is with some people, but for me good sex has always been a little messy.

I tried to get her to understand that. I couldn't help tasting the mess we'd created together. It tasted like me, and her, and sex, exactly as it was supposed to. I was tempted to make her try some too, but I didn't. She has limits, and she wasn't ready for that.

I cleaned her up, and enjoyed doing it. I like taking care of her like this. I talked to her, telling her a little about what it had been like but she didn't want to listen, and I gave in. She's been through a lot tonight, and I can give her this. But I like to talk, before, during and after. She'll learn. Now she's tired, and sore. She's earned a few hours sleep before the next go round. Because I'm not near through with her for the night, no indeed.