Property of Julian

Holed up in her room, Kate and Julian sat with their drinks in their laps, listening to records. Neither spoke much. She watched him, tall and handsome with his back against the wall, his long legs stretched out toward her at the other end of the bed. She sipped her beer, listening to the soft crackling of her record player, and downstairs she could hear her the nasally voice of her roommate's girlfriend, and she rolled her eyes.

"You're jealous," Julian said.

"That's not true."

"Sure it is. You want to be everyone's number one girl."

"Fuck off," she said. "What should I put on after this?"

"I don't care."

"You do. You've complained about every record I put on."

He leaned forward, smiling. "I don't understand why you don't just play your damn music on your computer like a normal person."

"I like records. They sound better."

"They don't. Sometimes I think you're stupid. Put anything on, I don't care." He was quiet as she changed the record. Then, "Why are you jealous of Mark's girlfriend?"

"I told you. I'm not jealous. She's just awful."

"She's not awful."

"You can't stand her."

"No. But I can't stand anyone."

Kate nodded. "True."

"Fuck you. You're a bitch."

"What? You're the one who said it."

"I happen to be very friendly."

"You're not. You're a terrifying presence."

"Shut your mouth."

She did. A few minutes went by, the two of them nursing their drinks, listening. She wasn't jealous and he knew it -- he just liked getting her worked up.

"Stupid bitch."

"What the fuck, Jules."

"Get me another beer."

"Get it yourself."

"No. Get it for me."

"You're a jerk." But she did it; she got up and padded across her room the mini-fridge that held her emergency stash of beer.

"Now dance for me."

She laughed as she handed him the drink. "Fuck yourself."

"Come on, dance for me. Give an old guy a thrill."

"No. Shut up."

"You're supposed to say I'm not old," he muttered.

"Ah, but you are." She hopped back onto the bed. "Practically thirty. It's disgusting. Everybody's talking about it."

He was quiet, listening, watching her speak. Then, "I should strangle you."

"You're sweet."

He said nothing. Again, a quietness settled between them. She grabbed another beer for herself, flipped the record, sat back down. He could tell she was tipsy. Such a lightweight, like a little girl.

"You want to take it easy?" He said.

"No, do you?"

"Maybe you should slow down."

"I'm fine."

"You're tipsy."

"Barely."

"Come on, kid."

She glared at him. "Don't call me kid."

"I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you, kid."

"You know I hate it."

He nodded. "I do. You hate it. But I don't give a shit."

"So."

"So get me another beer, kid."

She grabbed another, opened it and, standing just out of his reach, took a sip.

"Give it to me," he said.

"No."

"Bitch." He didn't get up. She continued to nurse his beer, forgetting eventually that it was not hers. She took a step closer to the window, gazing outside now, distracted, and Julian took this opportunity to grab her by the skirt and yank her toward him. She stumbled, falling onto his chest, but barely spinning a drop before he snatched the drink from her hands.

"Clumsy little girl," he said. She was still leaning over him, and as she righted herself he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down again. "Why don't you give me a kiss."

She pulled away, upset now. "Stop it. You're teasing me."

"No."

"You are. You're teasing me, Julian."

"Don't be upset, kitten."

"Really." She shook her head. "If you're going to act like this I'd rather if you just left."

"Act like what." He turned, swinging his legs off the bed so he was facing her. "Huh? Act like what, little girl?"

"You know."

"I don't."

"Yes." She wouldn't look at him. "What I told you the other day. So just stop, okay?"

"Oh." He feigned surprise, more for his own benefit than for her, as if he had actually forgotten the fact that she'd confessed her feelings for him. He had forced that out of her as well.

Her face felt hot and she gazed down at the floor, humiliated. How like him to rub that in her face. As if she could help it.

Julian downed the rest of the beer and placed the bottle on the window sill, then got to his feet and took a step toward Kate. She stepped back. Again, he stepped toward her. Again, she stepped back. This continued until he had her backed up against her desk, and he stood over her, quietly looking down, amused at her inability to meet his gaze.

"Come on, kiddo."

She said nothing.

"Don't be like this."

"Be like what." Still, she couldn't look at him.

"Like this. Come on. Let me see a smile."

"Stop talking to me like that. I'm not a child."

"But you are."

"Stop it."

"You're just a kid. A little girl, Kate."

"You should leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Please."

"No. I'm not leaving."

She tried to step around him, to sit back down on the bed, or get another beer, anything, but he blocked her.

"What's the problem?" He asked.

"You're acting like a jerk."

He was thumbing the top of her skirt now, gently, and here and there he would tug slightly at her shirt, untucking it slowly.

"What are you doing?" She pushed his hands away.

Ignoring her, he went back to it and she, exasperated, tried in vain to keep her shirt tucked in. When he had succeeded in untucking it completely he murmured, almost inaudibly, "Take it off."

"No. What? Are you crazy?"

"Take it off, Katie."

"Why?"

"Take. It. Off."

She looked up at him, finally, so beautiful, with his strong jaw and his straight nose. He stared down at her, his eyes neither hard nor gentle, his hair falling over his brow.

"Do it."

She did. He took it from her and tossed it to the side, and without a word he put his hands under her bra, lifting it to expose her breasts, then unclasped it in the back and tossed it that to the side as well. He grabbed a permanent marker from her desk.

"What are you --" She was still cornered, pressed against the desk; she fought against him but he was too strong, and ultimately she was helpless to stop him from writing PROPERTY OF JULIAN across her chest.

He stepped back to admire his work, a sly grin on his face. Kate's lower lip was trembling.

"Get the fuck out of my room," she said in a shaky voice. "Get the fuck out of here. You're fucking miserable."

"Your nipples are hard," Julian said.

Her face flushed.

"You like that? You get off on being treated like nothing?"

"Get out of here."

"I bet you're wet as hell."

"Get out."

"Make me."

She grabbed the empty beer bottle from the window sill and flung it at him; she missed by a hair.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" He growled, changed. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Gliding toward her, he grabbed her by the arm and threw her to the ground. She fell easily. He pulled her up and shook her. "You need to learn some fucking respect. Stupid bitch. You stupid fucking bitch." He threw her down again. "Get up. Get up."

She scrambled to her feet, trying to get away but he got a hold of her again and threw her down once more.

"Please."

"Please? What, please? Get the fuck up." He slammed her into the wall, she fell again. He pulled her up by her wrist. "Please. You please. You fucking bitch. How fucking dare you. How dare you."

He pushed her, face down, over her desk. "How fucking dare you," he growled in her ear. "Stupid bitch."

She was sobbing now, terrified. She listened as he undid his belt and pants, her heart pounding, and as he pulled her panties down she begged him to stop. He ignored her, growing harder as her pleas became more urgent, and he was unsurprised to learn she was wet.

He inserted a finger into her pussy, then a second. "You asked for this," he told her. "You fucking bitch."

He tightened his grip on her hair as he forced a third finger inside her.

"Please," she sobbed.

"Shut up."

"You're hurting me."

"Good." Removing his fingers, he pressed his cock against her dripping cunt and tugged again on her hair. "This is what you wanted," he told her. "This is what you get for acting like a child."

On the word 'child' he pushed himself inside her all at once, quickly covering her mouth to stifle her surprised cry. "You fucking bitch," he grunted as he fucked her. She could feel her insides tearing -- he was bigger than anyone she'd ever been with. He was merciless, pounding into her, one hand tangled in her hair, the other now around her throat, tightening every time she made a sound.

After a few moments of this he pulled out of her and yanked her away from the desk. Turning her computer chair around he sat down in it, and still with a good grip on her hair, pulled her on top of him.

"No, no," she begged as he forced her down on his cock. "No." She was crying. "Please, Julian."

"Shut up. You want Mark to hear you? Shut up."

His arms around her, he pushed himself into her as deeply as he could. He had hit her cervical wall -- he could feel it -- and still, he pulled her down onto him.

"Please." She was no longer sobbing, though tears still fell from her eyes. "Please," she whispered, her face close to his. "You're hurting me. Please stop. This hurts. You're too big. Please."

Tired of this, he covered her mouth. "Fucking cunt," he growled in her ear. "Worthless bitch. Miserable little girl. You asked for this."

He continued to fuck her like this, impaling her on his cock mercilessly and she, having given up, rested her head against his shoulder and whimpered as tears streamed down her cheeks. As he neared climax, he continued to insult her with renewed intensity. "Stupid bitch. Fucking stupid whore. This is what you asked for. You wanted me. You wanted this because you're fucking filthy. You're twisted. Dumb bitch. Fucking idiot. You dumb wet bitch. Getting raped makes you wet? That's disgusting. You're fucking sick, Katie. That's fucking sick. That makes you a whore."

And he finished inside her, still pulling her down, and he held her there until he was no longer hard.

"Fucking bitch," he said, and as he got to his feet he pushed her to the ground. "Get your clothes back on."

They redressed in silence.

"Pick a record," he spat at her. "Put it on."

She did.

Julian grabbed two more beers from the fridge, handed one to Kate and took a seat on her bed.