You Just Raped Me

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-- Jason's P.O.V --

YES!! I finally got my princess. I just couldn't take it anymore: 1) I needed her in my arms really badly. 2) I've been stalking her for a year now. 3) A boy asked her out and thankfully {Y/N} said 'she'll think about it' instead of an okay. I know it would be hard making {Y/N} love me since I kidnapped her, but it wouldn't hurt to try, right? But it does hurt seeing how 'scared beyond straight' she is with me. When I came back downstairs {Y/N} was still sitting by the front door in a ball, crying her eyes out. "Baby, please get up." I begged. I don't want her pissing me off to the point where I end up hurting her physically.

"NO! I WANT TO GO BACK HOME!!" She screamed with tears pouring heavily out her eyes. "Didn't I just tell you the fucking rules in the car. You broke rule 4 which: do not scream at me. So you just earned yourself a punishment, princess!" I shouted at her.

-- Your P.O.V --

Jason's eyes were hazel brown before. But Jason's eyes look brownish black as he was shouting at me. He grabbed me by my arm, dragging me upstairs. I was wimping and wincing in pain from how tight his grip was on my arm. "OWW!! YOU'RE HURTING ME!!" I screamed in pain, trying to get my arm out his death-grip. "SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH!" Jason screamed back at me and his face turning red. His grip was so tight that my blood can end up stop flowing in arm and make it turn blue any minute now. Once we've reached to, what looks like the bedroom, Jason threw me onto his bed.

He went into his closet and came back out with ropes. He started tying my hand to each corner of the bed while I was trying to squirm out of his grip. "What are you doing?!" I asked but he just ignored me and stayed silent. He got a knife from his drawer and I began to shake. He straddled my hips and brought the knife the the top of my shirt. "Please, Jason! I'm sorry, please don't kill me." I begged choking on my tears. "I'm not going to kill you! But I will hurt you with this knife if you don't shut up!" He spat.

I knew what he was capable of so I decided to shut I'll while I was still quietly sobbing. He took the top of my shirt and used the knife to cut from the top to the bottom of my shirt, causing it to be in half. He cut my short sleeves in half so that he can easily get my now halved shirt off me. He bent his head down and started kissing my cleavage. "Stop!" I shouted, trying my best to move my arms. He just continued kissing my cleavage. I can't kick him since he is sitting on top of my legs, so that his head can be the same level as my breasts when he is kissing it. He made his way from my cleavage to my neck. He must of found my sweet spot. He knew it was because I let out an unwanted moan. His lips lingered around my sweet spot making me even more weak.

He first sucked on it hard making me lightly wince from the little pain, but then he recovered it by swirling his tongue on it and kissing it again. It actually felt amazing, I was moaning but I didn't want to. I didn't want to do all this with Jason. He pulled away smirking at my neck. He grabbed a hand mirror off his nightstand and faced it my way, showing me my reflection. I looked at my neck through the reflection and I see a reddish-purple bruise on it. A tear slipped out my eye. "You made a fucking hickey on my neck, what the fuck is wrong with this bitch?!" I said the last bit more to myself.

"The fuck did I tell you about swearing!" He shouted in my face after slapping my cheek. "And who did you just call a bitch?" He said calmly but I knew he was angry as fuck which made Jason look even more scary since his eyes turned fully black. "N-nobody." I said turning away, sobbing from the sting on my cheek. "That's what I thoughts so." Jason answered smirking. Life would be a little better if I smacked it off. Pff, talking 'bout you love me. Who loves someone and tortures them for breaking such stupid rules? Jason put the knife back on the nightstand before kissing down my stomach with butterfly kisses. Jason unbuttoned my shorts before sliding them down and throwing them on the floor with my ripped shirt. I was now only left with the last piece of clothing, my nickers.

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