"No." He pushed her, front first, over his desk. Wrist cuffs appeared from nowhere around her wrists, securing them to the surface. Her front was pressed against the cold surface. His hands were on the back of her dress, tearing it in half along her spine, until it fell into a heap onto the floor and she was nude, shivering. He muttered something and her hair tie snapped apart; her hair in all its tangled glory fell down her back. She heard the clink of his belt buckle and the weight of his clothes falling onto the floor, and pressed her forehead against her forearms, legs trembling, waiting in bitter resignation as he grabbed her by the hips again and came closer.