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Forced
2010-08-23

Opening the door, Harrison walked back into the room and found the bathroom door still closed. Standing outside, he could hear the sound of a blow dryer. Going to the door, he pushed it open and called in to the bathroom. Hurry up and finish dressing, Diana, I have a surprise for you. Then he shut the door.

After about 18 more minutes, the bathroom door opened and Diana stepped back into the room. Her long brown hair had been brushed and no longer looker sweaty and stringy but had returned to its earlier silky smooth shine. She had dressed and was once again wearing her expensive, tailored dress slacks. Her blouse, though missing several buttons, still had enough left to allow her to fasten it across the front so she could conceal her bra and cleavage.

She had secured the lower portion with two safety pins that Harrison assumed she had in her purse and tucked it into the waistband of her slacks. Her make up had been applied perfectly and if you didn’t look too closely at the disheveled blouse, she looked very much like she had when they met in the Horn Towers lobby, almost 12 hours ago.

Still unsteady from the rohypnol, she continued to have trouble balancing on her four inch heels, but managed to walk to the bed without falling. Sitting down on the mattress, she looked at Harrison with that blank stare that had become so familiar over the past several hours. As he stared into her eyes, with a lustful grin, Diana quickly shifted her gaze towards the floor. He had clearly broken her spirit and she no longer had the confidence or sense of worth that would permit her to look him in the eye.

As she stared at the floor, with her hands tucked between her knees, Harrison grabbed his computer and walked over to the bed.

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   As he sat down next to her, Diana quickly slid to her left, to create distance between them. Looking at her, Harrison pretended to be offended and asked, “What’s the matter Diana? Don’t you like me anymore?” Immediately she moved even further away and shrieked “No! No! I hate you!”

Smirking at her Harrison said “That’s not a very nice way to talk to the first man who you ever let fuck you!” Almost crying, but controlling herself somewhat, Diana shrieked back “I didn’t LET you do that to me! You raped me!” As her words rang out, Diana suddenly paused and began to whimper (like she had suddenly just realized it for the first time) “Oh God! You raped me! You RAPED me!”

Moving closer to her, Harrison woke up his computer and held it up in front of her so she could see the screen and her Facebook wall. “I was looking at your Facebook page while you were in the shower”, Harrison said. Diana stared at the screen, expressionless. “Looks like you have lots of friends who have visited and shared pictures” Harrison continued. Diana continued to stare at the screen, looking blankly at the familiar images of her ‘friends’. As Harrison watched her facial expression, he could see that she seemed puzzled about how he had been able to access her page. Clearly, the rohypnol had doped her up to the point that she didn’t remember that she had approved his friendship request, during their initial conversation in the Horn Towers lobby.

Looking back at the screen, Harrison smiled with a sick grin and said “I have some pictures I think I’d like to post on your wall, to share with all your friends. ” He then clicked on the ‘minimized’ photo file and opened it. Within seconds, the thumbnails of the collection of photos spread out across the screen. Watching the reaction on Diana’s face, Harrison said. “I’m going to post some of these on your wall. I think your friends would be interested in seeing how you spent your weekend. Which ones do you like best?”

In response Diana’s eyes flew open in a look of complete humiliation.

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   Seconds later her look changed to fear as she scrunched herself down, cowering, like a small dog, afraid of getting hit. Whimpering, on the verge of tears again, Diana pleaded with him “No! No! Please don’t post those pictures! Please! Please don’t!”

Staring, aghast, at the pictures Diana stammered, “My d-d-d-dad has lots of money! I‘ll get him to pay you for the pictures. He’ll give you a lot of money! Please don’t let anybody see them!” Money was certainly nothing that Harrison needed, but he decided to play along for a few minutes. “How much money do you think he’ll pay?” Diana whispered back “I-I-I don’t know! A-a-a lot! Having no idea how much something like she was proposing would be worth, she just threw out a number, hoping it would be enough. “Maybe t-t-ten thousand dollars!”

Laughing, Harrison said “Ten thousand dollars? You think your ‘daddy’ would pay ten thousand dollars to keep people from finding out that his little girl is a fucking slut?” Diana responded “Y-y-yes! I know he would. ” Thinking that Harrison might actually agree to what she was offering, Diana quickly added “Maybe more! Maybe a lot more!”

Putting his finger to his chin, acting as though he was deep in thought and genuinely considering her proposal, he responded “HMMMMMMMMM! That IS a lot of money. ” Continuing, Harrison asked “If your dad would pay ten thousand dollars to keep pictures like these off your Facebook wall,” Harrison asked “How much do you think he’d pay for pictures of you getting fucked by my ‘friend’… Tyrone?”

Suddenly, right on cue, a large African-American male rose from the chair where he had been sitting (unobserved) in the corner. Seeing Diana, for the first time, he stared at her like a crazed animal. Smiling at her, he said to Harrison “Whoa! She’s even hotter than you said she was. Can’t wait to plant me a black baby inside her!”

As Tyrone, stood in front of her, his 6’5” frame towered over her like a giant. Continuing to smile at her, he suddenly reached out and grabbed Diana by her wrist. Lifting her to her feet, he pulled her towards him and said “C’mon you little, white bitch! We're gonna party!”.