A/N: WARNING: GRAPHIC RAPE Seriously if the subject really irks you, run run run away. You will be thoroughly appalled. I don't even know where this came from. I was writing Chapter 3 of Summer Nights and this happened. I do love Pezberry and I will have to write a happier fic later to make up for this one.

R&R


I'm trying to remember how I got here, how I got myself in this situation. I'm trying to recall the exact moment when I could have predicted all this and prevented it, but I can't because I would've never thought that this could happen to me. As mean as she had always been to me, I never thought that she would ever go this far.

But here I am in the girls bathroom, pinned against the stall wall by Santana's hand wrapped tightly around my neck and her knee wedged between my legs. Her free hand is shoved up my sweater, where it's painfully pulling and twisting my nipples, so hard that my eyes are beginning to water. My hands are gripping the front of her Cheerios uniform, trying to push her away from me with all my strength, but her years of training and competition with the Cheerios has made her unbelievably strong, and I feel like I'm pushing against a brick wall.

Her fingers twist my nipple extra hard and I scream, feeling the tears rolling down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I can, wishing for it all to just go away. The hand disappears from underneath my shirt and for a moment I think that it's over and that Santana has realized she has taken this way too far, but then I feel a rough tug as my skirt is being lifted and tucked into the waistband and a new panic fills my body. I immediately open my eyes and find her black eyes glaring back at me with such an icy glare I wonder if I ever knew the girl in front of me.

I feel her hand cupping me through my underwear and I try to squirm out of her grasp, but her hand on my neck tightens and suddenly I'm struggling to breathe. My hands quickly let go of her uniform as I frantically try to pry off the fingers from around my neck, feeling my face grow hot as my oxygen is cut off. Just when I think I'm going to pass out, she releases my neck and I'm so distracted by the flow of oxygen returning to my lungs that I don't realize she has yanked my panties off my hips and let them fall around my ankles. By the time my breathing has steadied enough that my mind understands she's not restraining me anymore, she has her hand fisted in my hair at the back of my head and she's pulling so hard, I'm sure that she's tearing the strands from my head.

Her fingers are at my entrance and from somewhere far away I can hear someone screaming, No. Stop. Please don't do this. Please. Please. It takes a moment for me to realize the screams are my own.

"Why," I say and I'm crying so hard, because I don't want this and I don't want this to be the way that I lose it. I have been keeping it so guarded, holding back for that perfect moment to share with the person I love, treasuring it, and now Santana is going to steal it away from me.

Her fingers pause at the question and she looks so angry I think she's going to punch me in the face. Instead she responds in a low steady voice that sends chills down my spine, "Because you need to realize that we're not all guests in the world of Rachel Berry. One day you may be some big famous Broadway superstar, but here at McKinley, I run the show."

I want to protest or apologize or say something, anything to stop her, but she's moved her hand from my hair to cover my mouth and in the same moment thrust two fingers up inside me. Her hand muffles my screams and fresh tears pour down my cheeks as I'm once again holding the front of her uniform tightly. This time my hands aren't trying to push her away, they've given up on that futile effort, now I'm just trying to hold on to something, anything, so that I don't fall apart. The pain is unbearable and if she wasn't pinning me to the wall, my legs would give out and I would collapse on the ground. Her fingers don't stop and wait for me to adjust, instead then continue to move in and out of me at a bruising pace and I'm struggling to breathe against the hand on my mouth. I squeeze my eyes shut because seeing those furious black eyes studying my reaction, taking pleasure in my pain, is making my stomach turn.

She doesn't stop. She adds a third finger and I'm certain that there's blood because I can suddenly feel the fingers sliding more wetly into me and hear slopping sound as they move. A few seconds later and I can smell the metallic scent and feel the beads rolling down the insides of my thighs. She knows and it seems to rouse her further. She roughly turns my head to the side, slamming my cheek against the metal wall, and I feel her thrust her hips against mine. I knew then that this wasn't about punishing me anymore. She was enjoying this. I felt her tongue lick a long line from my collarbone to my jaw and then moved back to the curve of my neck and sunk her teeth into the tender flesh. My hips involuntarily thrust against her hand and I am so disgusted with my body I want to throw up. She notices my reaction to the bite and leans her head back to look me in the face.

"You are one sick girl," Santana laughs, her fingers are still as she speaks and I'm relieved for the break, "I thought I was sick for wanting you, but here I am raping away your virginity and this is actually turning you on. So pathetic."

She takes her hand off my mouth and moves her lips against my ear, "Is this one of your dark fantasies that you think about when you're alone in your bed at night? Me raping you in the girl's bathroom?"

"No," I spit the word out, "You're sick, Santana."

Her eyes shift and for a brief second she looks genuinely hurt, but her fingers punch into me again and my startled scream satisfies her.

"I'm going to make you cum so fuck hard, Berry, you're going to beg me for more," Santana growls and her teeth are biting my neck again and I can feel her thumb angrily stroking my clit.

I soon realize she's right when I start to feel an unfamiliar tingle in my lower abdomen. At first I think that I need to pee and this worries me because, as irrational as it sounds as she continues to violate me, peeing on her hand could potentially make things worse. I'm about to warn her that I have to go, but when I open my mouth an embarrassing moan comes out as I begin to realize that the sensation in my gut is something entirely new. She pulls away from my neck with one last torturous bite and I can just imagine how bruised and mauled my neck must look. She smiles at my moan, knowing the affect she's having on my body, whether I want it or not.

She's breathing heavy and her hips are thrusting in time with her fingers as her eyes lock onto mine, refusing to let me look away. Her free hand drops to reach behind me and I feel her nails dig painfully into my ass as she squeezes a cheek. My impending orgasm has distracted me and I'm concentrating so hard on keeping it under control that I don't feel the dry finger against my puckered hole until it's pushing roughly inside of me. I squeeze my ass as tight as I can and thrust my hips upwards, raising onto my tip toes to try and get away from the penetration.

Suddenly she removes her fingers from inside me and grips my bare hip from under my skirt. The grip is firm, but not rough or painful, and it pushes me down from my toes and she stills her finger partially inside my ass.

"Calm down," she says and then realizes that the words sound too soft, like she has suddenly started to care, and so she adds, "It'll be over faster if you don't fight it."

It's something about the way that she says 'calm down' that makes me relax slightly, and I am so close to orgasm it's hard for my brain to separate the good choices from the bad choices.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," I sob and my head falls against Santana's shoulder as I bury my tears in her top. She stiffens at the contact and then I feel her hand disappear from my hip, but instead of plunging her fingers back inside of me, she massages my clit as she slowly pushes the finger in my ass all the way. It's not as painful when she does it this way, but as soon as it's knuckle deep, she pushes three fingers back inside of me and suddenly the sensations are all too much.

"Do it, Berry," she growls low and hot in my ear and as her finger in my ass begins to thrust, the tingle in my lower abdomen explodes. I throw my head back from her shoulder as the orgasm rips through me and I am surprised her find her lips on mine as she's swallowing my screams. Her mouth is hot and frantic and if it had been any other time in my life it could've been the most erotic kiss I'd ever had.

My body shook and shuddered as the orgasm subsided and my knees completely gave out from under me. I was surprised when I didn't hit the ground and I realized that Santana had her arms around my waist and was holding me up.

I opened my eyes, not able to remember when I closed them in the first place and saw her dark, swollen eyes staring back at me. Tears streaming freely down her reddened cheeks as she sucked in an unsteady breath. Her brow furrowed as her eyes questioned me, "Is that what you wanted?"

I stare back at her blankly, because I'm unsure now if that's what I had wanted. I know it's what I asked for, but living it out was different. I lost Santana somewhere along the way. She lost herself. But I can see her in front of me and the look on her face makes me think that she got hurt worse than I did. I wonder if I let a demon out of her that she didn't even know was inside of herself.

"It's what I asked for," my voice is hoarse and breaking as I force the sounds from my dry throat. I can't help but wonder if it'll recover in time for me to sing my solo during glee club this afternoon.

"Did I-," she pauses and shakes her head unable to complete the question. She turns her face away from me and says, "This wasn't right."

"I know," I reply weakly and I can't believe that this all started with a letter. A silly letter that I left in Santana's locker two days ago, telling her about my fantasy, asking her if she wanted to play. We had been flirting harmlessly for so long and I couldn't help but take the next step and inform her of my fantasy of being raped by her in the girl's bathroom. I knew it was such a strange thing to want especially for my first time, but for some reason, the thought of Santana overpowering me seemed so sensual at the time.

When she replied to my letter with the words 'Careful, Berry' the danger in those words excited me to no end and when I proposed it in person her eyes had grown so hungry as she bit down on her lip and I knew she wanted it too.

I can't pin point the exact moment when things had gotten out of control, but I am certain that a good many of my screams and pleads for Santana to stop hadn't been faked and although I am an exceptional actress, I'm sure that Santana had known they were real too.

"Don't ever ask me to do that again," Santana responds through clenched teeth, as her hold on my waist tightens and she begins planting soft kisses along my jaw and cheek. "God, Rachel I am so sorry."

The act surprises me. Although we made a mutual agreement to carry out the fantasy, Santana and I have had little contact, other than the insults she constantly throws at me on a daily basis. To see her fall apart, to feel her soft heated kisses on my skin, to feel her body pressed so tightly against mine, it feels like heaven.

I know that there's no recovering from what we did, but I can't help wondering what a relationship could have felt like with her.

Suddenly, I'm crying because I'll never know.