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There was an uncomfortable silence in the booth, as they waited for the waitress to come and take their drink order. Once she was gone, Lacey looked at him, obviously waiting for him to speak.

"It's like this," said Bob, starting in on a speech he'd given countless times, to countless women like this one. Well ... not quite like this one. This one was a lady. She had class. He rarely dealt with women of her class. But all he had was the speech, and some facts and figures, and that usually helped them understand what had happened to them and why it wasn't their fault.

"Rape isn't about sex." He waited for her to disagree, but she just stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "It's about domination ... control ... it's about making the victim helpless and degrading her."

"And that makes him feel..." her voice quavered.

"Powerful," said Bob. "It makes him feel like he's the most powerful person present—that's what gets him off. He wants to feel like he owns you ... can make you do anything he wants you to, and that you are completely helpless to stop him."

"So I should have fought harder," she said.

"Not necessarily," he said, caution in his voice. "Some rapists are so weak and insecure that resistance unhinges them. The typical tactics taught to women like you, in the classes you've probably been going to, are to make noise, draw attention, use your keys on his face, or your knee in his groin. With that kind of rapist, that works. The problem is that with some of them, it doesn't work. That just makes them mean, because you didn't enslave yourself instantly. They punish you for your uppity behavior. The parallels between how a rapist feels about his victim and how a slave owner felt about his slaves, in the 1860s, are startling."

"But how can you fight? How can you prepare?" she asked, clearly upset.

"Sometimes you can't," said Bob. "That's why it's so important to find these men and lock them away. Most rapes, of the kind you suffered, where the woman doesn't know her attacker, are committed by very few of the total number of rapists."

"Some women KNOW who raped them?" she asked, aghast.

"Most women know their rapist," said Bob. "Statistically, if you removed the women who get into trouble with a man they know, we wouldn't have a rape problem in the United States."

"You mean date rape," she said.

"Yes ... and drunk victim rape, and women who have a rape fantasy and it gets out of hand, and women who want to believe what happened was rape when, in fact, it probably wasn't."

Her body language suddenly screamed at him. She was so tense that she looked like she might actually jump up and run. Her hands gripped the edge of the table until there was no blood in her fingers.

"Calm down," he said immediately, soothingly.

"I'm calm." Her voice was so tight it had risen an octave.

"No you're not," he said gently. "You're screaming inside. What's wrong?"

She sat, rigid, for moments longer. He wanted to touch her again, but didn't.

"Look," he said finally. "This isn't easy to understand. Sometimes things happen that don't make sense."

Still she sat, frozen. The horror was back in her eyes again, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at something that wasn't even in the same building they were in.

"Is there something else?" he asked quietly. "Something else you didn't tell me?"

Her eyes cleared and then filled with tears. One ran over and trickled down her cheek.

"Tell me," he said. "You need to understand, and I can help you do that."

"You can't help me," she whispered.

"I think I can," he said. "You can't tell me anything I haven't heard before." He leaned forward. "Things happen that women are ashamed of and think is their fault. That's almost never true, but they THINK it's true. Something like that happened to you ... didn't it."

Her eyes went down to the table. "Yes," she whispered.

"Tell me," he said.

"I can't," she moaned. "It's so terrible."

"I already know you had an orgasm," he said. "You think that's terrible, but it isn't. I can explain that, too. What else happened?"

"Paul and I..." she said and then faltered. "We used to play ... games."

"Rape games," said Bob.

Her eyes snapped to his. She was horrified again, but this time it was the horror of being unmasked.

"How can you KNOW that?" she panted. "How did you know I had an orgasm!? It's like you can see into my brain!"

"Calm down," he said. "I told you, I've heard it all before. You're not as strange as you think you are, and you did NOT let yourself be raped."

"If only I could believe that," she moaned. "Paul is sure I did it on purpose ... that I let a man in, while he was gone ... that it got out of hand, like you said." More tears were coursing down her cheeks.

Bob handed her his napkin, and she took it and dabbed gently at the streaks.

"But I DIDN'T!" Frustration was in her voice. "I DIDN'T let him in. Not like that. I never saw him before! He was just a repairman ... except that he wasn't, and I couldn't do anything!"

"That's right," said Bob, his voice soothing. "You were helpless. He'd have killed you if you'd have struggled too much. Rapists with knives mean what they say. You had no choice."

"Then why did I have an ORGASM?!" Her voice was a hoarse, shouting whisper.

"You couldn't help that either," said Bob.

"You're just trying to make me feel better," said Lacey. "Teresa tried to insist that I didn't have an orgasm ... that it was pain that I mistook for an orgasm, but I know the difference between pain and an orgasm. I felt both that day."

"I'm sure you did," said Bob. "As I said, Teresa is young and inexperienced. She's also poorly trained, as a lot of rape advocates are."

"So explain it," she said. She was calmer already, with the hope that he could do just that.

"An orgasm, whether it's in the male or female, is a physical process. The sexual organs are stimulated during the sex act. When the stimulation reaches a certain threshold, the body does things to relieve the situation, and an orgasm takes place. It's simple biology. The man ejaculates and the semen sooths the penis, causing it to deflate. In the woman, it causes her to want to lie still and rest. All that is nature's way of making babies happen. If the body is stimulated, it reacts. There's nothing you can do about it."

"But some orgasms come with less ... stimulation ... than others," she objected.

"That's the mental aspect of things. Your mind can supply some of the stimulation required. But even if your mind is totally against what is happening, the body can be manipulated in such a way that an orgasm HAS to take place, whether you want it to or not."

"So it was a fluke. He just happened to go long enough that I couldn't help it," she said.

"I suspect not," said Bob. She gaped at him and he went on. "For some rapists, who know what I just told you, part of the domination of the victim is to MAKE her have an orgasm. He knows she will be humiliated beyond anything else he could do to her, especially if she doesn't understand what's happening, like you didn't. It is the ultimate debasement of the victim. He makes her believe she wanted the whole thing to happen. Some women, who are repeatedly attacked by the same man, actually form a bond with their attacker. They come to believe that they just didn't know they wanted this kind of treatment. They voluntarily become enslaved."

She sat back. Her wine was untouched—he pushed it toward her.

"Take a sip. Do you see what I mean when I said none of this is your fault? You were manipulated all the way. He was an expert in making you feel that way. You really do have nothing whatsoever to feel guilty about."

"But what about the rape games?" she moaned. "That's why Paul thinks I did all this on purpose. He's sure that I was cheating, and that the man I was cheating with got carried away."

"I don't know Paul," said Bob. "But I do know he's an idiot. Your fantasy—the one you played with him—didn't involve knives, or hitting ... did it?"

"Of course not," she said, flushing. "I can't even believe I HAD that fantasy now, but it wasn't anything like what happened to me. After what happened, I feel perverted for ever thinking that fantasy was hot."

"Your fantasy wasn't about rape," said Bob. "It was about playing at rape ... pretending rape ... pretending to be helpless when, in fact, you knew quite well that you were NOT helpless. You could stop it anytime you wanted to and, if you're like most other women, you did stop it on one or more occasions."

She shook her head. "How do you DO that?" she asked, her mouth open. "It's like you've been looking into my life with a secret video camera."

"You're not as different, or as odd, or as perverted as you think," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "You're just a woman, trying to understand why her world is falling apart."

She sipped her wine.

"So it really wasn't my fault." For the first time she made a statement of it, rather than a question.

"Nope," he said.

"I opened the door," she said softly.

"You should be able to open your door any time of the day or night." said Bob. "When someone chooses to victimize you, because you are trusting, THEY are victimizing you. You aren't inviting them to do anything."

She was quiet for five minutes, during which she finished her wine. Her eyes were far away again, but she wasn't tense this time.

Finally she focused on him again. "Are you going to catch that son of a bitch?"

"It probably won't be me," said Bob, truthfully. "I just make traffic stops these days."

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10.11.2021
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Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 6

Lacey was ferrying a flash drive containing hundreds of photographs from the dig to the museum. A major discovery had been found. A collapsed cellar had been uncovered and, inside it, there were bones. Human bones. It wasn't clear yet how they had come to be there, but there were no indications of intentional burial. The artifacts found with the bodies suggested that people had taken refuge in the cellar and had died there. The pictures were needed at the museum as soon as possible, so that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 7

Bob had just left the briefing room, coming on shift. He hadn't even buckled his seat belt when the radio squawked to life, telling him of a multiple injury accident, with an explosion involved. Paramedics and the fire department were already on the scene. Three patrols were being dispatched, and all three were still in the parking lot, after the briefing in the squad room. Three engines roared, and three sirens began to wail, as tires screeched. It was impossible to get close to the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 8

When Bob went off shift, he returned to the hospital. "How come you're the only cop who ever checks on her?" asked the head nurse. "It's my case," he said bruskly. "How's she doing?" "Better," said the nurse. "She should be awake. All her vitals are normal. The sedative has been stopped. The only reason she's still in ICU is that she won't wake up." "I'll just sit with her for a while," said Bob. He'd stayed in uniform, since that got him almost anything he wanted, with...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 9

Sleep came with difficulty for Bob. His mind roiled with the import of what he knew ... or thought he knew. He tried to convince himself that cars caught on fire all the time. There was only circumstantial evidence that the dead man was her rapist at all. Even the fact that there had been no more rapes with that modus operandi didn't prove anything. Like Lacey, no one had come forward to ask where their son, or brother, or father, or husband was. The crispy critter, still unidentified, was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 10

He took her to the impound lot, answering her questions when he thought he could do so safely, and dodging them or changing the subject when it got close to something he didn't want to talk about. She was appropriately awed by the damage to her car, and only glanced through the box of her possessions. The attendant brought out a bill for storage, and Bob tore it up. "Hey, you can't do that!" said the attendant. "I just did," said Bob. "The lady was in the hospital while it was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 11

He took her to Santini's. On the way, he told her a car had sideswiped hers, and that she hadn't been injured. While she was trying to help others involved in the accident, an explosion had occurred. He left it simple. "Explosion," she said, her voice far away. "I remember light ... all over ... I was submerged in light." "What else do you remember?" he asked, his voice guarded. "Just that. When you said explosion, it just came to me." When they walked into Santini's, Donna met...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 12

Bob eventually slept, despite the erection between his legs that demanded attention. It was still demanding attention when he woke the next morning, with a soft, naked woman pressed against his body. It had been a long time since there had been a naked woman of any kind pressed against his body when he woke. That had been a result of long hours, and an unwillingness by Bob to turn over part of his life to any woman. It wasn't that he didn't like women ... it was more that he hadn't found a...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 13

Bob went back to his apartment. The bed was still unmade and the wrinkled linens held the imprint of a bed that had been slept in by a couple. The pillow she'd used was lying against his own, like her head had lain close to his. On impulse, he bent to sniff the sheets where she had lain. They smelled like ... her. He hadn't missed the verbal slip that the doctor had made. She'd been about to say that as much as she would have liked to get naked with him, right there in the office, it...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 14

Bob sat and read magazines, until there were none left to examine. There was no noise coming through the door—it was so quiet he felt like he was the only person on the planet. Eventually, his ears detected the hum of air being pushed here and there by the building's air handler units. He heard a siren dimly, through the walls, but no traffic noises. He checked his watch so frequently that he finally took it off and put it in his pocket. Finally, he dozed off. He woke, when the door opened...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 15

Bob popped two Vivarin when he got into the squad car the next morning. She had kept him up all night, satisfying her own needs and making up for the dry spell Bob had been in. He felt drained, but also more relaxed than he'd been in years. He was no longer distracted, either. Lacey had another appointment with Claire, but he was no longer worried that she'd suddenly realize there was no past between them. That had already been addressed. Now all he had to worry about was the return of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 16

Lacey went back to see Claire ahead of schedule, and told her everything that had happened. Claire put her under again, and spent an hour exploring the details of the rape that she hadn't gone after earlier. As each horrible part of the assault was revealed, Claire worked more instructions into the dialog, intended to minimize the emotional impact of the memories. Then she brought Lacey out of the hypnotic trance and spent another hour with her, concentrating on the things that Lacey felt...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 17

Bob heard her gasp as he left the bedroom. His head swiveled and he saw her standing there, bent slightly forward, her arm outstretched, hand turned sideways in a fist at the top of a candle. Her face was so pale it looked almost ghostly. Her mouth opened and an agonized groan was torn from her throat as she dropped the lighter and reeled backwards. Her eyes stared at the tall, pale yellow flame that the lighter had created at the tip of the candle, but her mind saw the same hand,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 18

Back in the apartment, Claire asked questions. They were not "What did you do?" type questions, but rather were "How do you feel about what you did?" type questions. Lacey didn't feel good about any of it. For the psychiatrist, it was like walking a tightrope. Or, perhaps it was like making her patient walk the tightrope. There needed to be remorse for a bad deed, for there to be health in the mind and spirit. But it could be taken too far, and the patient could begin to hate herself,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 19

She was adamant about keeping her appointment with Claire. He was glad she was going, because he had to go to work. He hoped Claire would talk some sense into her, and he made her promise not to do anything until she'd talked it over with him, no matter what she decided to do. She was waiting for him when he got home from his shift. She was calm, but looked drained. "I have to make this right," she said. "If you're sure about this, then it needs to be done right," he said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 20

Two weeks later Bob was coming home from the gym, still dressed in his sweats. McDill had instructed them, superfluously, not to see each other until after the trial. He had been noncommittal after his questioning of Bob, concerning what his defense would be. "I have some ideas," was all he'd say. Bob turned the last corner and started toward the entrance to his apartment building. A car pulled to a stop at the curb next to him and the window rolled down. "Get in!" came a male voice he...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 21

Roger Schwartz grabbed his briefcase and hurried for the entrance/exit of the new suite of offices the prosecutor's staff was lucky to have just moved into. Lucille, his secretary, called out a cheery "Good luck!" as he sailed by her desk. "Don't need luck!" he yelled back, flashing her a grin. In fact, he believed that. He was one of the up and coming lawyers of a generation that believed skill would make "luck" an archaic term. If that seems a bit rash, perhaps it could be said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 22

The door to the jury room opened and a man wearing glasses came in. He looked at something on a clipboard in his hand. "We're about to begin," he said, with no other introduction. "I need to give you some information about what's expected of you. Please listen closely." He read a list of rules, things they could and could not do while they were sitting in the jury box. His voice droned, making it clear he'd read this list countless times in the past. Fully half the jury tuned him...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 23

The next witness called after lunch was probably a poor choice for that particular spot in the lineup, but it hadn't been planned that way. It was the medical examiner who had done the autopsy on Kinneson's remains. Schwartz apologized to the jury for what they were about to hear, and then had the doctor describe the compound fracture in the victim's leg, which would have made it impossible for him to move around on his own. Then there was the testimony of the condition of the lungs, which...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 24

It was day two of the trial and Roger was ready to produce testimony about the DNA identification of Gilbert Kinneson's remains. He had contacted Senior Technician Fred Simms, the lab supervisor, and hastily explained what he needed. Simms said it would be no problem. Schwartz tried to be as clear about things as possible. "Now I know that there were a lot of tests done on the DNA from the body," said Roger. "That's not germane to the issue in this trial. All I need is an overview of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 25

Instead of calling the first defense witness, Matthew now exercised his right to cross examine Officer Robert Duncan. Once Bob was on the stand, and had been reminded he was still under oath, Matthew began what he believed in his own mind was some of the most important questioning he'd do. He didn't want to ruin Bob, but uppermost in his mind was Lacey's welfare. "When did you first meet my client?" was his first question. Bob named the date and said, "I needed to interview her as the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 26

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Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 27

"The defense calls Doctor Claire Montgomery to the stand," said Matthew. Roger stood. "Your honor, I fail to see the relevance of anything this witness could bring to the issue. I must object. Mental state is not at issue here. The accused did not plead based on insanity, either temporary or otherwise." Matthew spoke clearly. "Your honor, I have already indicated that I'm trying to establish motive for my client's actions. This witness's testimony is crucial to that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 28

As soon as Claire left the courtroom, the judge turned to the jury. "I'm not going to sequester you, because you have not started your deliberations. You may all go home to your families, but you are not to discuss anything you've heard in this case with anyone, under any circumstances. Is that perfectly clear?" Most of the jury nodded. "Court will resume at nine-thirty tomorrow morning," he said, and banged his gavel hard on the block. The gravity of the situation had penetrated...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 29

The jury room hadn't changed much, but the changes that HAD been made were obvious. At each of the twelve chairs around the long table, there was a cheap name tag, made of paper folded into an inverted V. Maggie's was at one end of the table and bore the title "Foreman." It was almost lunch time and some faceless employee had provided a tray of sandwiches, individual bags of various kinds of chips, fruit, and pre-packaged salads from the cafe downstairs. There were also a dozen kinds of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 30

An hour and a half later Judy again chirped, "Let's vote!" Maggie looked around. People looked tired. A lot had been said, but there didn't seem to be any general consensus. Voting would at least be trying to make progress. She passed out ballots. This time, when she separated the pieces of folded paper, there were four in the guilty pile and eight in the not guilty pile. Everyone looked surprised. "My, my," said Maggie, who had changed her vote, but didn't expect anyone else to do...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 31

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked Judge Gunderson. Maggie stood. "We have, your honor." The bailiff took the folded piece of paper from her hand and walked it to the judge. He opened it. He looked at the jury, and then back at the paper. "Was this unanimous?" he asked. "Yes, sir," said Maggie. Gunderson handed the paper back to the bailiff, who returned it to Maggie. "The defendant will stand," intoned the judge. Lacey and McDill stood. Lacey looked like she might fall...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 32

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"kasem, are you seeing that little indian girl again tonight?" mumtaj khan asked her eighteen year old son. "Yup," he replied while combing his hair, "I think we'll hit a movie and stop off for some burgers after the show." mumtaj leaned against the bathroom door jam while admiring the build on her only son. Solid as a rock without and ounce of fat and handsome to boot! "Don't you think it's time you brought her around to meet me?" she asked casually. "Not yet, mom," he replied softly. "Maybe...

Bhubaneswar Ki Padosan Bhabhi

Hello doston me pradeep das bhubaneswar odisha ka rehne wala hun.Yeh mere or pados me rehne wali bhabi ke bich hui vasna me lipt waqt ki kahani he jo ki 100% real he.Me bhubaneswar me engineering ki padhai kar raha hun or filhal 21 saal ka naujawan hun. Or pas wali bhabhi ki umar 36 he..Magar dhilkne me kisi pornstar se kam nahi unka nam roji he me unhe roji bhabhi keh kar pukarta hun. Bhabhi roj subah nahane k bad apne gile kapde hamare bagiche me sukhaya karti he kyunki unke ghrpe sukhane ki...

Party Hard

"Hey Ben, you ready yet? C'mon! The girls are waiting!" Ben tried for the fifth time to get his hair to stay the way he wanted it, finally giving up as his room mate shouted at him from down the hall. "Fine, Jack, I'm ready. Are we taking my car or yours?" "Are you planning to get blitzed tonight?" "Not particularly." "Well, I am, so let's take you car." They piled into Ben's Ford Taurus and pulled out from the apartment complex's parking lot onto 7th street. Frank had been...

Dress for success

I lost my job and couldn't find another straight away. We realised that we couldn't keep up the mortgage payments and had to put the house up for sale. Fortunately, it sold quickly and we moved into my mother-in- law's house. Did I say FORTUNATELY? I don't think my wife's mother ever really approved of me and was never slow to criticise. However she had a large enough house and had never remarried after my father-in-law died. My wife Helen got a part-time secretarial post, so at least...

Tlerone Anthology

An anthology series of ENF stories written by tlerone. All the stories are separate, but do take place in the same universe, with the heroines of each having some loose connection with each other. The girls in these stories tend to end up in some very some very embarrassing situations, losing their clothes and trying to keep their arousal in check. All characters in this story are over the age of 18.

CRASH Test Dummy

Lance Palladon was a sincere, but dreamy young man who worried greatly about where the world was, where the world was going, even at times loosing sleep over injustices in the past he could do nothing about. Then one day a man showed up at his door, the man's name was Gordon Rippley Archer and he was the founder and leader of something called the Cronos' Repair Agency Salvaging History or C.R.A.S.H. Simply put C.R.A.S.H. was a group that had found a way to send people on one way...

The Diary

The longer I live, the more I believe the old adage that things are never what they seem. I am a generally easy going kind of guy, and until recently seemed to have had a fairly normal life. It appeared like I had it all. I was at the pinnacle of success, with a great job, a gorgeous wife, plenty of wealth, and a large home in the suburbs. This is my account of how my perfect life came tumbling down. But before I bring you up to present I will go back six weeks ago. It was February 2, 2014, and...

Jacks Slave Part 2

I arrived at his front door at the right time that I had been told to come here where I was greeted with my master who had already opened the door. I looked at him to see his hair carefully made that covered some of his face but also showed his hazel eyes clearly. He stood there shirtless showing off his 6 pack and just wearing tight jeans that already showed that he had a bulge. He stepped to the side away from the door as I stepped inside before he closed the door behind me. I turned round...

Tying my girlfriend up

We were finally alone, her parents gone for the weekend, it was just me and her. Oh how is she sexy, those soft plush lips of her so kissable, her ass so soft and squeezable and her hot little pussy, so eager. I tied her up on her bed as I had done may times before. Her pussy was already dripping in anticipation as I pulled out my blue little vibrator. "Do you want this," I asked. She told me she needed it. I turned it on high and began to rub it against her nipples, watching hotly as they...

Toy Time

TOY TIME This is an intense story, and may trigger people with PTSD. Please read with caution. I'm going to work, its another typical day, dealing with the ex, my gender issues, and .... other things. I look for something to listen to on the radio, just flipping through my pre-sets, when I hit the local sports station. They are talking about the night's football game, and I relax, letting my attention get back to my driving. Suddenly, I realize they have changed topics, and now...

Helping Hand

It was a beautiful day and I had to do some stuff while my dad was at a Bishops luncheon. After getting everything done in the house, I was suppose to get my neighbors older son to cut the lawn. I started to walk over to the neighbors house but seeing that it was such a great day and the sun felt great on my dark silky skin I decided to do it myself since it was a riding lawnmower. I was wearing a dark red tube top that hugged my breast firmly and some short-shorts that showed off just enough...

Bradly Sibling Love

"And send," I said, before setting my phone down. "Sis, what are you doing?" "Just texting mom and dad, now we're going to be alone all night long," I replied, before opening my top dresser drawer. "Do you think this box will be enough?" I pondered, grabbing it. "Holy shit, is that a box of fifty?" "Well, minus one now," I answered, bringing one out. I made my way to him, but then I lowered myself to my knees. "Lean up to me." He quickly followed me and kissed me. Then I blindly...

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