I slapped the tape across her mouth as she tried to scream. Her eyes opened wide, and she shook her head, trying to plead with me, but the tape was too thick to make out any words. I moved down to her arms, which were pinned tightly behind her back, and pulled out another long piece of tape. I wrapped it several times around her wrists, binding them together. The entire time, I could hear her muffled cries for help in the dark hallway of the school.

  She was wearing her blue buttoned shirt and jean shorts. The same thing she'd worn to school that morning in class. Her silky black hair was tousled and tangled from the fight. It covered part of her face and she was trying to shake it off. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears streamed down her face, making her pale cheeks shiny and wet. Her body was pressed hard into the metal lockers, and I could feel her trembling against my hand. I wrapped my hands around her neck and squeezed, just for a second, before pressing my lips to her forehead and inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

  She tried to kick her legs, but I stepped on the bottom of her foot, pinning her down. I slid my hand down to her crotch and grabbed her pussy through her shorts.

  "I'm sorry about this, Rose, but if you scream or try to escape, it's only going to get worse," I whispered, my voice raspy and dry.

  "Mmmph," she said, trying to scream. I felt her pussy tighten up, and she started thrashing again, trying to buck me off of her.

  I slid my hands into her jean shorts and yanked them down. They were too tight to pull off her easily, but I didn't care. I heard a loud tearing noise and a ripping sound. When I stepped back, her shorts were laying in a crumpled pile at her feet. She was still trying to scream, and the sound was muffled and quiet. I slapped my hand across her mouth.

  "Quiet," I hissed.

  Her eyes widened and she stopped struggling. I slid my fingers into the opening of her buttoned shirt and pulled hard, ripping it open. Several buttons flew off and clattered to the floor, and the top of her bra became exposed. Her breasts heaved up and down as she struggled to breathe, and she shook her head frantically as she stared into my eyes.

  "Don't struggle, Rose. Just relax," I whispered, stroking her face.

  I wrapped one hand around her neck, squeezing tightly, and reached my other hand on her breast. Her chest was warm, and I could feel her rapid pulse through the soft, fleshy mound. She made a muffled squeal and tried to wriggle away, but my hand was still wrapped tightly around her neck. With my other hand, I quickly yanked her bra up and over her breasts. She tried to scream and her chest heaved up and down, causing her tits to jiggle. I cupped my hand over her left nipple, squeezing it hard. She squealed and her entire body shuddered, her back arched against the locker, and she shook her head violently, making her dark, silky hair fly around her face.

  I leaned in close and kissed her neck, sucking on the skin and nibbling her flesh. Then, I pressed my lips to her ear and whispered, "I'll make it quick. I promise."

  "Mmph!" she said, screaming and thrashing her body.

  I reached down and tore her jean shorts completely off her. She was naked now, except for her white lace panties and the torn remnants of her bra and shirt. Her entire body was shaking, and her eyes were filled with terror. She was looking at me, staring into my eyes, trying to plead for me to stop. But I couldn't. This was the only way.

  "Mmf!" she screamed.

  I slid my hand under the band of her underwear and slowly pulled them down. As I slid them past her knees, I noticed the small tuft of black hair on her pussy. She tried to press her legs together, but I was kneeling down in front of her. She was naked now, except for her bra, and she was sobbing hysterically, shaking her head back and forth.

  I pulled the tape off her mouth, and she screamed.

  "Please, don't do this," she cried.

  I put the tape back on and she made a muffled, whimpering noise. Then, I took a deep breath and exhaled, letting the warmth of my breath wash over her. I didn't have much time left. I pressed my finger to her pussy lips and felt the soft folds. They were wet and slick, and they parted easily.

  "Don't struggle, Rose," I whispered. "It's gonna be quick. I promise."

  ...

  By the time I pulled my used limp dick out of her pussy, Rose was unconscious. I ripped the tape off her mouth, leaving red marks all over her lips and chin, and she didn't even stir. I looked down and saw my semen dripping out of her pussy lips and onto the hallway floor. I was shaking, and my whole body was trembling. I had never raped anyone before. It was so hard. It was painful, and the guilt was unbearable. But I had to do it.

  "Rose?" I asked, leaning down to touch her face. "Rose?"

  There was no response. Her eyes were closed, and her head was slumped to the side. Her chest was rising and falling slowly, and she was breathing deeply.

  "At least you're still alive," I whispered, stroking her face.

  I knew it was only a matter of time before someone found her. And when they did, the police would be called, and they would find the evidence of her rape. My fingerprints, my DNA. They would come after me, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm sorry."

  I picked up the pieces of tape that were scattered all over the floor, and stuffed them into my pockets. Then, I picked up the knife that was lying beside her, and shoved it back into my backpack. Luckily I didn't have to use it tonight. The tape was enough.

  "I'm sorry," I muttered one last time.

  I gathered up her clothes, and tossed them beside her. Her blue shirt was torn, and her jean shorts were ripped. I was at least nice enough to try to give her something to cover herself up with when she woke up and realized what had happened. Before I turned away, I gave her one last look. I didn't know if it was the right thing to do. It was wrong, but it was necessary. It had to be done. I reached down into my backpack and pulled out my pencil case. There was a dark black permanent marker inside. I pulled it out and uncapped it.

  I knelt down next to her, and slowly traced the letters 'R-A-P-E-D' on her smooth, flat stomach. She was unconscious and didn't move. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and she was breathing deeply, still knocked out from the pain of her assault. Beneath the words, I wrote my name. I wrote my full name, and signed my initials. Then, I put the cap back on the pen, and dropped it next to her.

  The evidence was all there. My fingerprints were on her body, my semen was still inside of her. And now, my initials would be on her skin. My DNA was already inside of her, there was no use hiding it now. The authorities would be able to trace the crime back to me, and there would be nothing I could do to deny it. I knew I had done a terrible thing. I knew I had crossed a line that I could never go back from. But I reminded myself why I was doing this.

  This wasn't a crime of passion. It was a crime of necessity.

  It had to be done.

  "Goodbye, Rose," I whispered.

  Then, without looking back, I turned and walked away.