Happy Ending?

Most of the Skye abuse in the fic happens in this chapter. If non-consensual crying virgin sex isn't your thing, skip to chapter three. I'll try to remember to post a summary. Not that this chapter REALLY needs one, but hey.


Skye balked as the guard took her hand. "Where are you taking me?"

"Inside. You look like you could use a hot bath and some clean clothes."

She was suspicious of his insincere voice, but the bath and clean clothes did sound awfully nice. She let him lead her into a cool building-- was it air conditioned, even?-- and down lots of twisty halls with solid floors, maybe wood. He stopped inside a close, echoey room, and a few seconds later she heard a squeaky metal faucet being turned, then water rushing into a tub.

After a few moments, the water stopped. "Soap is on the sides," He informed her. "Your towel is on a bar to your left. And change into this when you're finished." He handed her something silky.

"What is it?"

"The only clean women's clothing we have on base."

Skye waited until she heard his boots stomp out of the room and the bathroom door swing closed before stripping off her dirty, worn clothes and stepping into the tub. The warm water felt good, but she washed more quickly than she would have normally. She was too worried about Keith to enjoy herself.

When all the soap and dirt was rinsed away, she scrubbed herself down with the towel and slipped on the white silky thing, which went on like a nightgown. She stepped back into her old shoes, refolded the towel, and carefully made her way to the door.

The guard was standing immediately outside the door. "You look much better." She heard approval in his voice. Skye sensed him lean foreward, and heard a sniffing noise just above her head. "Come with me."

He led her again, this time down more hallways. He knocked, and a gruff voice invited him in. "This better be good. Who is that?"

"An intruder. We found her wandering alone just outside the base. She seemed like a minimal threat, so we decided to bring her to you before feeding her to the sharks."

"And a wise decision that was." Skye shuddered. "The Boss" had an unpleasant, brassy voice that made her skin crawl. "What's her name?"

"Skye. She's blind, Sir."

"Can you cook, Skye?" She smelled something from his direction... cigar smoke? Yes, that was it.

"A little. I've been cooking--" She started to say 'for Keith', then decided to follow the head guard's lead and pretend she was alone on the island, "over a fire since I got here."

"Good. I want her working in the kitchen first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Sir." The guard marched towards the door. "Goodnight, Sir."

The door shut and Skye felt two fat fingers stroke her cheek. She shuddered. Maybe she should have put her underwear back on, even though it was dirty. She felt very vulnerable in this strange, cool place without Keith or her glasses.

The fingers moved down her neck to the low neckline of the nightgown, and she reached up to try to cover herself up. "Please don't touch me like that," She said politely. "It makes me uncomfortable."

The Boss laughed a tremendous, roaring chuckle that startled her. "This one is going to be fun, isn't she?" He asked aloud, apparently to himself. Suddenly huge hands picked her up and laid her roughly on a bed.

"What are you doing?" Skye felt the nightgown being pushed up and quickly pressed her knees together, embarassment and shock flooding her face with heat. "Stop!"

He laughed again, easily pushing her legs apart. She felt hot breath on her stomach and lower regions and struggled to get free. His finger probed around, spreading and occasionally scratching, until he let go of her legs and climbed on top of her.

"Today must be my lucky day. Virgins are rare in this day and age, and getting the chance to fuck one is even rarer."

Skye felt nauseous. "No, please..." She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say or do to stop him. "I don't want to do this."

He didn't even seem to be listening to her; he was busily pulling his clothes off while keeping her pinned to the bed. Skye shut her eyes, still stunned by what was going on. Everything was happening so fast.

Searing, ripping, dry pain knocked her back to reality with an animalistic shriek of pain she didn't recognize as her own at first. He started to draw out of her, to her relief, then shoved back into her with relish. Skye's body arched under The Boss as he repeated the movement over and over again. What did the women in the movies possibly find enjoyable about this? She put her hands on his shoulders, using them in place of words to beg him to stop. She heard dry, sucking sobs, and realized that they were hers.

"You know, if you relax it won't hurt so much." He blew cigar smoke into her face. Skye coughed and tried not to gag.

"Please... stop..." She managed to get out between tears. She had assumed it would feel like stretching but this... it felt like he was tearing her apart with a hot poker, separating joints. Was this what childbirth felt like? No wonder the woman was always screaming and panting during labor.

He groaned vulgarly. "Keep crying, little Skye. It makes me unbelievably horny."

With each thrust she dug her nails a little deeper into his shoulders and tried not to cry. Instead, she focused on breathing the way pregnant women did on television. The burning pain had faded to an unpleasant tingle, but he was entering her so hard he was hitting something in her stomach now. She squeezed her eyes shut, pretending she was sitting on the beach with Keith again, chatting about life and shyly holding his hand.

The Boss groaned again and thrust into her extra hard, jarring her from her peaceful memories. Something warm and sticky ran out of her body and down her bottom, soaking the blanket underneath her. He pulled out of her, still pulsing the substance onto her and the bed. She wiped her eyes, relieved it was finally over.

"There's a good girl." The Boss fell onto the bed next to her, holding her around the waist in an iron embrace. Skye sniffled a little and rolled over so her back was to him, trying to avoid the still-warm splotch of blood and who-knew-what-else on the bed. She waited until she heard his breathing change, which didn't take long, then bit her hand-- hard-- to stifle any noises she was about to make. The tears dripped silently onto the pillow and her shoulders shook with noiseless sobs as she reassured herself mentally that Keith was fine. In fact, he was probably working out some brilliant way to rescue her even as she lay there.