Meeting Gone Wrong: Part 2

Conscious came back to me slowly,  darkness retreating as if I were deep in the ocean and swimming toward the surface.  I gradually became aware of my surroundings, noises became clearer and less muffled.  My face throbbed, agonizing waves of pain washing over me,  making me feel nauseous.  My body was being shoved hard against the unyielding surface of Marcus, the bank managers sturdy desk.   I could hear groaning and the cold slap of skin against skin.  A burning, tearing sensation flared between my legs.  Realisation of what was happening hit me like a freight train.  I moaned, pleading for him to stop but now he realised I was conscious,  it only spurred him on.  Marcus fisted locks of my hair and snapped his wrist back, pulling my broken and bleeding face off of the desk,  arching my back allowing him to thrust deeper in a frenzied tempo.  I screamed as loud as I was able to and I heard a guttural laugh from behind me.  “Scream all you like, baby.  No one is going to hear,  everyone has gone home for the day.  It’s just you and me”.  I whimpered,  tears running down my face smearing my mascara,  mixing in with the blood from my head and nose.  My face felt tight like the skin was stretched to its limit, I could barely see out of one of my eyes,  the swelling from my shattered cheekbone taking over my features.  

I closed my mind and body off as the animal behind me took his pleasure from me unwillingly.  He thrust uncontrollably, his thighs tightening and his body trembling.  A low growl of pleasure peeling through his gritted teeth.  I could feel him spurt his seed deep into me and I began to cry uncontrollably,  praying, hoping that he was finished.   He pulled out of me with a groan and I just lay there, used and discarded.  He laughed as he let go of my hair and my head flopped forward.  He walked over to a door and pushed it open revealing a hidden bathroom.  He entered and pushed the door closed behind him, I could hear running water,  what sounded like a shower.  I knew that if I didn’t try to leave now,  I would never get away from him.   

I flattened the hand of my unbroken arm on the surface of the desk and gingerly pushed my body upwards.  Every inch of me protested in agony.  I reached back and tugged my dress downward covering my exposed ass.  I groped blindly for my purse and found it,  I curled my fingers around its leather strap as it if were a life preserver and straightened up to my full height.  I swayed slightly,  dizziness threatening to claim me.  I took a few deep breaths and took in my surroundings, my good eye falling on the office door.  I looked back at the bathroom door,  it was still closed,  the shower still on.   This was it,  my chance to leave.  I walked slowly and quietly toward the door and grabbed the handle.  I opened it gingerly hoping that the hinges wouldn’t squeak and give away my intention to leave.  

The door opened silently and the open plan office that lay in front of me was deathly silent and sheathed in darkness.  I stepped out into the gloom,  one more step,  then another. I was closing the space between hell and salvation.  Just as I approached the outer office door which led out to the darkened street,  I could hear a phone ring shrilly,  breaking the silence that had enveloped the building.  The noise wasn't from any of the phones in the open plan area,  which meant it belonged to Him.  He would hear that phone and rush to answer it and realise that I was gone and come after me.  I had to escape, so I ran.  I pushed my broken and ravaged body to its extreme and fled the office, bursting out onto the sidewalk like a crazed person.  I flagged down a passing cab and gave him my address and told him to keep his eyes on the road and he would get a decent tip.   I didn’t want him or anyone else seeing me,  not like this,  not with my spirit broken.