Page 91 of Brutal Prince

I bask for a few seconds, counting my blessings and all that sentimental crap before the feeling went away. Because try as I might, not a single memory came up when I searched. So I thought we hadn’t sealed the deal, maybe just fooled around a bit. We’d done that before. Some kinky shit.

But then I drew back the covers and I saw the dark streaks on my dick, and I knew I’d taken her virginity.

Unbelievably, I was more pissed off that I couldn’t remember anything than I was about the fact that we’d both obviously been too drunk to remember.

My first virgin.

My first virgin, and I couldn’t remember a thing.

And then Jessica woke up.

There was a moment, this brief, strange moment, where she smiled at me, and I could picture myself waking up beside her every morning for the rest of my fucking life. And then it suddenly didn’t matter anymore if she’d been my first, because right then and there I’d decided she would be my last.

But then her expression changed. She frowned. Her lips thinned. Her arms darted under the covers, fumbling around down there. Shock widened her eyes, and parted her lips, and turned her face a whiter shade of pale. Words tumbled out of her mouth while I lay speechless beside her.

You…

How could you?

I didn’t…

You raped me.

* * *

Kruger’s lecturegoes on for an eternity. I know it’s just because I want to know what’s on the rest of that clip. I have to know.

Because as much as I’d argued with Jessica—

I don’t remember—

You never said no—

Prove it, Jess! Fucking prove it!

—I’d never know exactly what happened, because she had all the proof she needed. Her cunt was torn, and my dick was full of blood.

One and one make two.

I have to endure a lecture from Kruger about phones in class before I can snatch it from him and leave the classroom. I rush to the closest restroom and lock myself in the stall. Flipping closed the seat, I perch on the edge and plug my earphones into my phone.

The video plays.

A black screen.

Marcus: “She’s fucking trashed, bro.”

Me: “Tha’ was the point, wa’nt it?” I’m slurring so much, I don’t know how the fuck I was even able to stand.

The film’s so dark, I don’t even know if I am standing. Obviously, whoever took it used a very poor quality camera phone.

Marcus: “Almost there.”

Me: “Jess? Still with us?”

My stomach clenches in anticipation, but Jess remains silent.

A few pixels appear on the screen. The vague outline of a doorway appears. And then a silhouette. But it cuts off before I can make out anything useful like where the person taking the shot was standing, whose silhouette it was…anything.

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