Mistrusting A MemoryChapter 17 free porn video

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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, outstretched in the darkened interior of an upside down car. She saw her rapist's bloody face, and his scream of "HELP ME, YOU SLUT!" rang in her brain. She also saw her hand, with the flaming lighter, dart toward a pool of liquid. Then there was just light expanding toward her ... consuming her.

Bob recognized the lighter instantly. He had no idea how she'd gotten her hands on it, but he knew instinctively that she was remembering. Her hands came up, palms facing outward, as if she was trying to shield herself from some unseen attacker. She kept backpedaling and bounced off the wall as a tortured scream ripped from her throat.

Her knees gave way first, and she dropped straight to the floor, impacting on knees that registered sharp pain. Her eyes became her own again, and the vision was gone. Movement in her peripheral vision caused her head to turn to the left. She saw Bob.

It may have been that the pain in her knees distracted her enough that she didn't just shut down. It might have been kinder if she had lost consciousness just then, because her brain, though stressed in a hundred different ways, was still capable of putting all the bits and pieces of information together that told her what she had done ... and what had resulted from it.

"Nooooooooooo," she groaned. Her knees hurt, and her thigh muscles relaxed to let her fall. Her body accommodated automatically and she sat hard on the floor, her legs beside her, still bent at the knees. Her groan was interrupted by a deep indrawn breath, which became a scream as she tried to cover her eyes to keep the vision of that ball of fire away. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

By the time he got to her she was a basket case, hysterical, her hands waving in front of her. He caught her as her waist was letting her fall. He couldn't pick her up, so he sank to the floor, pulling her upper torso across his and holding her tightly to him. She fought him for a few seconds, but then collapsed against him.

"I KILLED HIM!" she sobbed.

Bob had no idea what to do. As much as he'd thought about this possibility, it hadn't prepared him for the eventuality. His own emotions were roiling. One part of his brain screeched, "Lacey Fetterman! You're under arrest for the murder of ... some guy!" But that part of his brain was almost brutally silenced by the overwhelming sorrow he felt at what he knew she must be going through right now. He had nothing to offer ... except to hold her.

The platitude came from his lips just as helplessly and easily as it had come from a rape advocate's lips, months before. And just as uselessly.

"It's OK," he murmured. "Everything is OK."

When we are overwhelmed by events, and what is called the "fight or flight syndrome" kicks in, the world can become a tumultuous place. There are a myriad of things going on, both biologically and in that strange and interesting place we call a brain. The odd thing about that is we can't really call what happens in that situation "biology." Mental processes aren't physical, in the sense that we haven't been able to match up physical activities in the brain with specific thoughts. We know what parts of the brain are used for various things, but not how they actually operate. Even if we did, in the heat of the moment, we have no time nor inclination to parse out what's happening, and very little control over it, as well. We rely on instinct, in those times—another thing we don't understand very well.

Bob's primary instinct was to comfort his beloved. Other instincts were there, but were not strong enough to claim dominance. That's why he was saying everything was OK, even if he knew that right then nothing at all was OK. He WANTED everything to be OK and he was trying to MAKE it OK.

Lacey's instinct was to withdraw to a safe place, where the hurtful thing that she couldn't ignore wouldn't be able to torment her. She was well aware that something was terribly wrong, too, and was quite sure it would destroy her.

The so-called fight or flight syndrome's purpose is to resolve the danger, in one way or another. In this case, flight was impossible, because the danger was in her mind.

The only other option was to fight.

To be honest, Lacey might have lost that battle, had Bob not been there. Even as she tried to tell him what was wrong, which she was quite sure would drive him away from her forever, she clung to him as her last hope. And, even though he had agonized over this very scenario countless times, Bob's single thought was to protect her from the danger.

It took most of half an hour, which seems like a very short time, unless you're facing the hounds of Hell. Eventually, she came to understand that his tight embrace meant he wasn't leaving her. Then she cried, grieving for the loss of her own innocence.

This was completely different than what she had experienced during the rape. She remembered looking into the eyes of the man she hated more than anything in her life. She remembered the odor of gasoline. She remembered intentionally bringing her lighter to life. She remembered the animal rage inside her. She remembered feeling her face twist as she snarled. She remembered seeing the man's eyes widen with fear as he saw the flame in her hand. Most of all, she remembered driving her hand, holding that flame, down into the patch of wet that flared into the light that then took over her entire memory within seconds.

She remembered wanting to kill him, and the exquisite joy of being ABLE to kill him.

And that made her someone she didn't want to be ... but had no choice in being.

She didn't think of her confession as being to a law enforcement officer. She spewed out all the vile things she had done and felt to a man named Bob, the man she loved, and to whom she was clinging both physically and emotionally. He was her only anchor in the storm. That he was holding her as she did so, and kept holding her, penetrated parts of her brain that weren't conscious, but which reacted in ways that helped her feel less storm-tossed.

Bob, on the other hand, was quite familiar with confessions of this sort. He was well aware that there were the beginnings of healing in a confession, when there was remorse for what had taken place. That Lacey felt remorse was obvious, and that appealed to the part of him that loved her and wanted her to be unhappy with the fact that she was a murderess. It meant that evil didn't own her, even though she had served its purposes.

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Chapter 17 Videos

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 5

The place he directed her to was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that she would have never given a second glance. She realized how hungry she was the instant she walked in, through the door Bob held for her, and the odor of wonderful, delicious things hit her like a sledge hammer. "Vinny!" Bob called out to a man, standing at the grill, wearing a white paper hat. Vinny looked over his shoulder, grinned, and held both hands up in the air, a spatula still in one. "You got me, copper," he said....

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 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

There was a diner, of sorts, on the first floor of the building. It served pre-packaged sandwiches and salads. There were also hot soups, Polish sausages, hot dogs, kraut and the like. Maggie wasn't interested in the fatty foods, so she chose a bowl of mushroom soup, with lemonade, and took it to one of the small tables that were scattered around. She sat in one of two chairs at the table. She was joined by Helen, who asked if she could sit in the other chair. Neither woman seemed to be...

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

As it turned out, Claire's misgivings were justified. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and she had no clue as to how to proceed. Had she been in her professional setting, she would have controlled the conversation. She couldn't really do that, there in the restaurant. So, she chose to try giving Lacey the redemption she sought. "They forgave you," she said, her voice tight. Bob shot her a look that said very clearly, "What the fuck? You don't mean that." Lacey didn't see...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 33

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It all started when I and my boyfriend at that time (Andrew) got an invitation to an end-of-term party at a student house not too far from where I was living. It was one of those big old family houses in South London that are too big for most people these days, so they get bought up as investments and rented out to students – which sounds a crazy idea to me, but I guess there’s always a steady stream of them looking for somewhere to live for a few years, and we’re not all complete slobs....

The StormChapter 9

As the two snowmobiles pulled into the clearing around the house, John slowed down and took a good look at it. They hadn’t really had a chance to see it last night or earlier that day, and he was impressed. From the front, the log cabin was a chalet, with a vast expanse of glass along the wall where the Great Room soared up to the high peaked roof. A fair-sized wing ran down one side at an angle, and he recognized that this was the two-story area the bedrooms were in. From the back, he saw...

Zindagi Na Milengi Dobara

Hi, ISS readers and Rishma, thanks for appreciation for my previous stories, I am Tinku Shah from Nagpur 27, 5’11” with my another encounter with a lovely, beauty, softy, mrugnayani, sweetheart TARA from Hyderabad. It more love story than a sex story. My previous stories are: “Nagpurs Naughty Shalu Bhabhi 1-2” “Visit to Bombay as a Callboy” This incident happens when i visit to Hyderabad for yard inspection of my company, Our company has big yard in Hyderabad, and there are many employees...

Starting Sex Journey In Incest

Hi friends this is Rajesh from Andhra Pradesh. Today I am narrating a real life incident in my life. I had sex with both my cousin and my aunt (my mom’s elder sister). Their family consists of my uncle (businessman who passed away), aunt (house wife) and daughter doing MBA in private college. Cousin looks very sexy and has stats 34-30-32. Generally my aunt’s family is very traditional and conservative. Whenever they want any help they usually call me. Mom and aunt are very close sisters. So mom...

Marriage Anniversary Ka Gift2

Ap logo ne meri pichali kahani padi hogi ‘Marriage Anniversary Ka Gift’ ye usase agala part hai, yadi aplog hamari story ko pasand karate hai to please reply jarur de jisase ham log apka entertainment karate rahe. Ab age story par ate hai. Ham log subah apni car repair kara kar apne ghar pahuche, sunday ka din tha ham logo ne rest karke last night ki thakan mitai. Ab aksar har weekend par ham log rahul aur rita ke ghar jakar enjoy kiya karate the, isitarah lagabhag 4-5 week bad ek evening ko...

Learning to please

I stand there, naked and anxious as he examines me. My arms are behind my back, as I have been trained. He cups my breasts one at a time, first gently then harder until I fear I may wince. I try to slow my breathing. He feels the weight of my large breast in his hands, kisses each one, then moves and pinches my very erect nipples. He rubs his rough hands down my body to my waist. I am still as I feel his gaze wash over my body. I know he sees I have shaved my pussy as instructed and I want so...

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