Page 19 of Whispers of Obsession

He’s too big. Too strong.

“Please,” I beg again, louder this time, but the sound is still pathetically feeble. I know there’s no way of fighting my way out, so all I can do is try to appeal to his humanity. “Please, just let me go. I haven’t seen your face. I don’t know who you are. I won’t say a word to anyone. Even if I did, no one would know who to look for. Just please don’t do this.” My voice cracks, my heart pounds, and my lungs struggle to take in a breath.

I’m light-headed with panic, slick with cold clammy fear.

Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as he slips a hand inside my shirt and squeezes my breast roughly. His gloved fingers dig into the tender flesh, and I whimper at the pain. No one has ever touched me like this. Not even Victor.

My mind desperately searches for a way out of this nightmare, but the only thing I can focus on is the way he smells. I want him to smell awful, not good. Not masculine, and clean. He switches between pinching and caressing my nipple, and my mind spirals.

Pain and pleasure.

This is so fucking wrong.

“Stop, please,” I beg once more, my tears falling heavily now.

“You want me to stop?” he says low in my ear. I frantically nod. “You don’t like what I’m doing to you?” His voice is curious,even through the muffled mask. There’s something…off about it, but I can’t focus enough to work it out.

I shake my head. “No.” I squeeze my eyes shut, hating the way his fingers manipulate my sensitive breast.

“Then why’s this little nipple all hard and begging for attention?” He grips the bud between his leather-clad fingertips and twists, causing a pained mewl to fall from my lips. “You like it.” His voice is a deep, angry growl.

“I don’t,” I cry, shaking my head.

“You do. You justthinkyou shouldn’t. Sweet little Cora, wanting everyone to think she’s such a good girl, but here she is panting for a stranger. You’re just begging to be fucked.”

“I’m not!” I desperately struggle against him now, harder than before, using all my strength until I am panting, and I don’t know if it’s the friction of my body against his or my futile attempts at fighting him, but his arousal throbs against my ass. My stomach churns.

He likes this.

“Please.”

“But I know you’re not a good girl, are you, Cora?” he continues like I never even spoke. “Good girls don’t send videos finger fucking themselves until they come to their teachers. No, good girls certainly don’t getpaidfor doing nasty things like that.”

“How’d you know it was me? My face wasn’t in that video.” I jerk in his arms, as he continues to toy with my nipple, my mind focusing on the wrong things. Like how he knew it was me, or why his touch is warming me from the inside out.

Or why I like his scent so damn much.

“You turned up in the dugout. Who else could it have been? Do you know how many Coras are at our school? One. You. Mr. Spiro didn’t even attempt to protect your identity. He had you saved in his phone with photo ID and everything, right alongsidea folder full of images that I know you didn’t send him. As well as the ones you did.”

I realize that he’s right, that I played right into his hands and gave myself away when he first confronted us. I thought he was…not a friend exactly, but he seemed to be on my side, saving me from the danger that was really Victor.

But now it feels like Victor was thesaferchoice. Better the devil you know.

Or is it? Victor had other photos of me on his phone? From where?

“You weren’t the only one though. The perverted Mr. Spiro had many of your female classmates in his contacts. Many incriminating pictures. A friend of mine saw you with him a few weeks ago in class and reported back to me. I got curious. Hacked his phone and found some very disturbing content. Like your little video.”

“You’re calling him perverted with your hand down my shirt as I beg you to stop!” I snap, realizing my mistake as soon as the words leave my lips. The shaking in my legs intensifies when the masked man chuckles darkly.

“I feel you trembling, Cora. Your breathing’s shallow. There’s a sheen on your soft skin. You’re excited by my touch.”

I shake my head. “Terrified.”

“Curious,” he counters.

“Sickened.”

“Exhilarated.”

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