Violating Her Virgin Body

Rose POV

A single crumpled twenty-dollar bill pressed against my palm as the heavy wooden door of Saint Jude’s Orphanage slammed shut.

Mother Agatha stood on the other side of the threshold, her expression carved from dry stone.

"You turned eighteen this morning, Rose. Your time here is finished. Find a way to survive on your own."

Her sharp words lingered in the cold morning air as she tossed my faded canvas backpack onto the pavement. The zipper had broken two winters ago, and the frayed strap barely held together the few worn shirts and oversized trousers I owned. I reached down, slung the strap over my shoulder, and stood on the cracked sidewalk.

For eighteen years, that brick building had been my entire world. It was cold, strict, and devoid of warmth, but it had provided four walls and a roof. Now, the open city streets stretched out before me like an endless maze.

I started walking toward the town center. The soles of my hand-me-down shoes were paper-thin, sending the chill of the concrete directly through my socks. Every step sent a dull ache up my shins. After Mrs. Silva passed away three years ago, the donors stopped asking about the older kids. The toddlers were easy to love and easy to photograph for charity brochures, while girls like me became nothing more than extra mouths to feed.

By midday, dehydration set in. My throat felt like sandpaper, and my stomach twisted with hunger. I remembered an old stone church four blocks south of the commercial district that kept an outdoor fountain running for travelers.

I dragged my feet along the cracked pavement until the weathered spire came into view. The stone basin sat beneath the shade of an overgrown oak tree, cool water trickling steadily from an iron spout. I dropped my bag onto the grass, rushed toward the fountain, and cupped my hands under the stream.

The cold water hit my parched tongue, soothing the burning ache in my throat. I drank mouthful after mouthful, letting the excess spill down my chin and soak the collar of my shirt. As I wiped my mouth on my sleeve, Holden’s face surfaced in my mind.

Holden was two years older than me. Before he aged out of the orphanage, he pulled me behind the chapel wall and pressed a small carved wooden bird into my hand.

"I will find a job and get an apartment," he had told me back then. "When you turn eighteen, I will come back for you."

Two years had passed without a single letter. Yet, in this strange city, the thought of him was the only thing that kept panic from tearing through my chest. Gangs ruled these southern streets once night fell, and I had no money for a hostel. I needed to rest, just for an hour, before setting out to search for him.

I walked over to a weathered wooden bench near the back wall of the churchyard and sat down. The chirping of sparrows in the hedges brought a momentary calm. Leaning my head back against the rough slats, I closed my eyes and whispered a desperate prayer for shelter, letting exhaustion drag me down.

A heavy crunch of gravel snapped me awake.

Before I could open my eyes, thick hands locked around my wrists and ankles. A harsh gasp tore from my throat as I was yanked straight off the bench.

"Who are you? Let me go!" I fought against the iron grip, kicking my legs and thrashing with everything I had.

Two broad-shouldered men in dark coats hoisted me off the turf as if I weighed nothing. A sleek black car stood idling at the curb, its rear door already open. They shoved me headfirst into the backseat.

I scrambled toward the opposite door, clawing at the interior panel, but another man caught my shoulders and pinned me against the leather seat. A coarse rag drenched in a sweet, chemical odor clamped down over my nose and mouth.

I clamped my lips shut, but the fumes burned my nostrils. When my lungs forced me to gasp for air, the toxic vapor flooded my chest. The world spun into dark streaks of gray and black, the edges of my vision collapsing until my body went completely limp.

When awareness returned, my senses were assaulted by the smell of stagnant water and mildew.

I lay on a thin, grimy mattress on a concrete floor. My hands were tied tight behind my back with coarse rope, the fibers biting deep into the skin of my wrists. There were no windows, only bare concrete walls and a dim bulb hanging from an exposed wire.

Fear turned my blood to ice. I rolled onto my stomach, trying to push myself up, but my arms were useless behind me. Every movement made the rough cords dig deeper into my raw flesh.

The heavy metal door at the top of a short flight of steps screeched open. Two guards marched down, their boots thudding against the stairs. Neither man looked at my face. They gripped my upper arms, hauled me off the filthy mattress, and dragged me up the steps.

"Where are you taking me? Please, tell me what you want!" I begged, my bare feet dragging across the steps.

Neither man spoke a word. They shoved open a pair of double doors and thrust me into a brightly lit master bedroom.

The contrast made my head spin. Polished hardwood floors gleamed beneath soft rugs. A massive king-sized bed sat flanked by marble nightstands, draped in crisp white linen. A woman in an elegant black dress stood near the vanity, her arms crossed over her chest. A younger maid stood beside her, holding a pink garment box.

"Untie her wrists," the woman in black ordered.

One of the guards drew a pocket knife and sliced through the rope. My arms dropped forward, numb and throbbing with pins and needles. I rubbed my wrists, staring at the deep red welts carved into my skin.

Before I could speak, the maid stepped forward and set a silver tray on the small table by the armchair. It held roast chicken, buttered potatoes, and a tall glass of iced water. The scent hit my nose, and my empty stomach let out an audible rumble.

Survival instinct overpowered my terror. I dropped into the chair, snatched a piece of meat with trembling fingers, and shoved it into my mouth. I chewed and swallowed without breathing, chasing the food with long gulps of water. The maid watched me with wide eyes, clearly stunned by my ravenous manners.

I forced myself to slow down, setting the glass down on the tray as the two women picked up the empty dishes.

"Why am I here? What do you people want from me?" I demanded, rushing toward them as they moved to the door.

The woman in black didn't even turn her head. She stepped through the frame, and the heavy oak door slammed in my face. The click of a deadbolt echoed through the silent room.

I rattled the brass handle until my palms burned. It was locked solid. I backed away, pressing my spine against the wall, trying to make sense of the nightmare. I was a penniless orphan with nothing to my name. Kidnappers demanded ransoms, but nobody in the world would pay a single cent for me.

Ten minutes later, the lock clicked again.

The door swung wide, banging hard against the wall. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. The deadbolt snapped back into place.

He wore a tailored charcoal suit with an unbuttoned collar. His face possessed striking, aristocratic lines, but his features were twisted with raw fury. Striking blue eyes locked onto me, burning with a hatred so intense that my breath caught in my throat.

"Did you think you could make a fool out of me by walking away?" His voice was low, laced with venom.

He crossed the distance between us in three strides, his fingers wrapping around the collar of my worn shirt like an iron vice. He hauled me upward, lifting my feet half off the floor.

"Are you going to kill me?" I gasped out, clutching his thick wrists in an attempt to relieve the pressure on my throat.

"Why are you doing this to me, Vesper?" He shook me with enough force to make my teeth click together.

"I am not Vesper! You have the wrong person!" I yelled back, tears springing to my eyes from sheer terror.

"You are a skilled little actress, but you cannot deceive me twice." He sneered, shoving me backward with brutal force.

I stumbled across the rug, my calves hitting the edge of the mattress before I fell hard onto the bed. He loomed over me, shedding his jacket and throwing it to the floor. The muscles of his chest strained against the thin fabric of his dress shirt.

"Please, listen to me! I swear I don't know who Vesper is!" I screamed, scrambling toward the headboard.

"Be quiet! You caused enough damage today, Vesper, and you are going to pay for every single minute of it." He lunged forward, catching my ankles and dragging me back across the sheets.

I kicked out, my heel catching his forearm, but he barely flinched. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, his massive frame pressing down on top of me like a slab of stone.

"I am not Vesper! Look at my face!" I screamed into his jaw.

He leaned down and crushed his mouth onto mine.

The kiss was hard, bruising, and punishing. His lips bruised mine, suffocating my screams. I bit down, tasting a hint of copper, but that only made his grip tighten until bones felt ready to crack. His free hand reached down and grabbed the collar of my cheap cotton shirt.

With one sharp downward yank, he tore the fabric right down the middle, ripping the threads apart and exposing my bare breasts to the cold air.

"Stop! Please stop!" I sobbed, thrashing my hips to dislodge him.

"You wanted to play this game with me, Vesper. Let us see how long you last." He muttered against my jaw, his breath hot and ragged against my skin.

He lowered his head, biting down on the swell of my breast. Pain lanced through my chest, and I let out a sharp cry, trying to bring my knees up. He shifted his weight, using his thighs to wrench my legs wide apart.

With swift, practiced movements, he stripped off his trousers and underwear, kicking them off the side of the bed. He was naked now, his erect cock heavy and rigid against my inner thigh.

I stared up at him in sheer horror, shaking my head violently. "Don't do this! I am telling the truth! My name is Rose!"

He ignored my words entirely. He reached between my thighs, his rough fingers probing between my folds. I was dry and tight from pure terror, but he showed no hesitation. He pushed his knees between mine, forcing my legs further apart until my hips were pinned flat against the mattress.

He lined the head of his cock against my slit. Without waiting or preparing me, he thrust forward with his entire weight, driving his thick cock straight inside my tight pussy.

A searing rip tore through my lower body as my hymen ruptured.

"Ah!"

A shriek of agonizing pain ripped from my throat. Tears poured down my temples as burning agony flared between my thighs. My hands clawed at the bedspread, fingers bunching the white sheets into tight knots as he drove himself all the way to the hilt.

The tightness of my untouched passage clamped down hard on his shaft. He let out a low, guttural snarl, gripping my hips with bruised force. He pulled back half an inch and slammed forward again, his hips pounding mercilessly against mine.

Every thrust felt like a blade twisting inside my core. The friction burned against my torn, dry flesh, smearing fresh virgin blood across the pure white sheets beneath us. I buried my face into the pillow, weeping loudly as he took his brutal retribution out on my body. He hammered into my depths over and over, his breathing turning into ragged pants as his heavy pelvis slapped against my thighs.

Finally, with a harsh groan that shook his entire chest, he buried his cock deep inside my womb and stiffened, pumping his hot release into my aching passage.

The furious rhythm died away.

He stayed buried inside me for several long seconds, chest heaving against my shoulder. Then, as his weight relaxed, his gaze shifted downward between our tangled bodies.

A pool of bright red blood stained the sheets around my thighs.

He slowly pulled his cock out of my pussy. The blood smeared along his softening shaft and coated his inner legs. His breath hitched in his throat.

He rolled off me, his body hitting the mattress beside mine as his eyes widened in stark bewilderment.

"Who are you? Why were you a virgin?" His voice shook, stripped clean of its previous arrogance.

I curled onto my side, pulling my knees tight against my bleeding chest, shaking uncontrollably.

"I told you," I sobbed into the pillow, wanting nothing more than to disappear from the earth. "I am Rose."

Behind my trembling back, the room descended into a deadly, crushing silence.