There are moments in life where your brain just… refuses to process reality.
This was one of them.
'Wait, what the fu—'
And for some reason—some deeply inappropriate, completely unhelpful reason—a laugh bubbled up out of nowhere.
It just slipped out of me before I could stop it, like my body had decided this was the funniest possible outcome.
"What do you mean rape me?" I choked out between laughs, half in disbelief, half in what I could only describe as a stress-induced mental breakdown. "Are you in the drama department or something? Because this is a little too much for a morning performance—"
I kept laughing which I shouldn't have because the knife didn't move.
Not even a little.
And Scarlett?
Her expression didn't change.
She didn't laugh.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't break.
If anything, she looked even more serious, more frustrated, like my reaction was the problem here.
"Laugh all you want," she said flatly, her voice sharp enough to match the blade still hovering at my throat. "You'll see how serious I am."
My laughter died immediately. Replaced by a very real, very uncomfortable realization.
'Oh. She's not joking.'
My thoughts scrambled, tripping over each other in panic. 'I don't understand. I'm literally a virgin. If she just asked normally, this wouldn't even be a problem. Actually—no, focus—knife. KNIFE. The knife is the problem. The knife completely ruins the vibe. This is not a vibe. Abort vibe.'
"I—okay, okay," I stammered, raising my hands slightly like that would magically de-escalate the situation. "Let's just… relax for a second, yeah? We can talk about this—whatever this is—without the whole stabbing part."
She leaned closer, eyes blazing with something unhinged—desperation, anger, maybe both.
"Shut the fuck up, moron," she hissed under her breath, glancing briefly toward the door like she was afraid someone might hear. "And take off your pants."
Nope.
Absolutely not.
Hard pass. Declined. Rejected. Returned to sender.
I am not into this kind of roleplay.
Every instinct in my body screamed that if I just sat here and cooperated, I'd regret it in about five seconds. So I nodded slowly, pretending to give in, buying time.
"Okay… okay," I said, keeping my voice shaky for effect. "Just—don't stab me."
I carefully reached for my zipper, keeping my eyes locked on her and when her grip on the knife loosened just a fraction, that was all I needed.
In one quick motion, I grabbed the blanket instead and yanked it up with all the desperation of a man who had no business being in this situation, then flung it straight at her face.
It wasn't elegant.
It wasn't heroic.
It was a pathetic and embarrassing move.
The fabric hit her head, swallowing her vision for a split second—just enough.
"HEY—!"
She staggered back, instinctively bringing the knife hand up as she tried to tear the blanket off, and that was my cue to get the hell out of there.
I rolled off the bed, nearly faceplanting on the way down because apparently my coordination had also abandoned me today.
I scrambled backward as fast as I could, putting distance between me and the girl with the knife and the worst introduction I'd ever experienced in my life.
I was breathing hard now, heart racing, and brain finally fully awake.
Nope.
Nope.
Nope.
This is not how I die.
Not in the school clinic.
Not like this.
Behind me, I heard the frantic rustling of fabric.
"Shit—!"
The blanket dropped.
I didn't look back immediately. I just kept dragging myself away, putting as much distance as possible between me and whatever the hell Scarlett Everest had going on.
Think. THINK.
Door—locked.
Window—maybe?
Weapon—none.
Dignity—already gone.
By the time I finally glanced up again, she had already torn the blanket off, her red hair a mess, eyes sharper now, angrier, and very, very focused on me.
"Nice try but you can't hide from me."
She was freaking smiling.
That was the moment I realized— this situation had officially gone past "bad" and straight into unhinged.
Without another word, she raised the knife and lunged.
I didn't even think and just ran.
Like actually ran. No dignity, no plan, just pure survival mode as my legs kicked into overdrive and carried me across the clinic like I was being chased by a demon—which, honestly, wasn't that far off.
"Don't run away from me!" she yelled.
"Then stop chasing me!" I shot back, grabbing the nearest object—a pillow—and hurling it at her without even aiming properly.
She dodged it effortlessly.
"Seriously?!" I grabbed another one.
Threw it.
Missed.
"Why are you so good at this?!"
"You pussy!" she snapped, weaving past yet another poorly thrown projectile like this was some kind of training exercise for her.
"At least you won't get to have a taste my dick!" I yelled back, half-laughing out of sheer panic. "You psycho!"
Wrong move.
Very wrong move.
Something in her expression shifted, she seemed… more determined.
"Oh, now I definitely will," she said, speeding up.
"WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?!" I shrieked, immediately regretting every life decision that led me here as I grabbed a metal tray from a nearby stand and flung it like a desperate frisbee.
It clattered loudly against the wall.
Missed.
Again.
'I'm such a terrible shooter.'
My eyes darted wildly around the room—door locked, no nurse, no backup, no miracle savior bursting in at the last second like in the movies.
Just me.
And her.
And a very real knife.
"Think, Caleb, think," I muttered under my breath, backing away as she advanced again, like some kind of horror movie villain who also had cardio.
I bumped into something behind me—a cabinet—and nearly tripped.
She noticed, her smile widening, "Got you."
"NOPE—!"
I scrambled sideways at the last second, narrowly avoiding her as she lunged again, the knife slicing through empty air where I'd been a second ago.
My heart was going to explode and my lungs were already filing complaints with upper management.
I tried to sprint again—but my foot caught on something soft.
The blanket.
Of course it was the stupid blanket.
My balance gave out instantly, and I hit the floor hard, the impact knocking whatever air I had left straight out of my lungs.
"—ghk!"
Before I could even roll away, she was already on me and pinned me completely.
Scarlett straddled me, one hand pressing me down while the other raised the knife just enough to remind me that, yes, this was still very much a life-threatening situation.
The sound of my zipper being yanked down was the only warning I got before her hand wrapped around my dick.
I groaned, partly from the unexpected grip and partly from the sheer audacity of it all. My cock twitched despite the roughness, betraying me in the worst way.
She squeezed, her grip firm but clumsy, like she was trying to wring water from a dishrag. A jolt of pain shot through me, and I gasped.
"Ow, fuck—"
She yanked my dick upward, the sudden pressure making my vision blur.
I squirmed, but her thighs clamped down harder, and the threat of a knife glinting in her other hand had me freezing in place. "Move and I'll cut off your dick and feed it to you," she warned, her tone eerily casual, like she was discussing the weather.
I gulped.
The knife wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was how my cock was hardening despite the pain, betraying my body's traitorous response.
Scarlett noticed, her lips curling into a smug smile. "Hmm, seems like someone's enjoying this."
"That's—that's not—" I stammered, but the words died in my throat as she finally started stroking me properly. The pain faded, replaced by a slow, building pleasure.
She was rough at first, her grip too tight, her movements jerky, but she gradually slowed down, her thumb swirling over the head in a way that had my hips jerking upward on their own.
"Haah," a moan slipped out before I could stop it, and Scarlett's grin widened.
"Oh, you do like it," she teased, her free hand sliding under my shirt to pinch my nipple.
I yelped, my back arching off the ground. "Fuck you—"
"That's the idea," she purred, leaning in to nip at my earlobe. Her hips rolled against mine, her pussy grinding against the thin fabric of my pants.
The friction was maddening and the heat between us unbearable. I could feel her arousal, the way her body was already responding to me, and it sent a jolt of desire straight to my core.
Before I could protest—or even think—Scarlett hooked her fingers into her panties and yanked them down one swift motion.
The sight of her bare pussy, glistening and ready, had my cock throbbing painfully.
She didn't give me time to process before she lined herself up and sank down onto me in one smooth motion.
I never thought I'd lose my virginity like this—pressed against the cold tile floor of the clinic, her knife digging into my throat, and her pussy swallowing my dick whole.
The contrast between her icy demands and the heat of her body was enough to short-circuit my brain.
"Fuck!" I gasped, my fingers digging into her hips as she rode me like a rodeo cowboy who'd lost his damn mind.