1 comments/ 45875 views/ 6 favorites The Hypnotherapist Trilogy Ch. 01 By: RiverSable Alexis had come to me sometime in mid-October. The generally feeling was this wasn't a serious case, that was why she was seeing me after all, but her grades had fallen seriously over the past year and her RA suspected depression. At the time I'd thumbed through her file. Age 20, sophomore. Originally from Seattle, came to Boulder on a full ride academic scholarship. Played one year of tennis for CU. Nothing unusual in her medical history. The only thing that caught my eye as being out of the normal was a hand-written scrawl at the bottom of the page: "4/14 – Requested prescription for Claritin and was informed that Doctor Aldridge would see her. She was unaware that filling a new prescription required a check up. Informed her that it was the Student Medical Center's policy to require a checkup on file before any issuance of prescriptions. Patient nodded and sat back down. I was distracted by a phone call but later when I looked up, I saw she had left." Shy around doctors, I noted in my pad; very understandable and it would help dictate how I would handle our session. The general idea is to be as welcoming and as non-judgmental as possible, but with certain clients it was best to work the session more as an amiable conversation between equals rather than the classic psychologist-patient relationship. Y'know, the old cliche with the wizened old Freudian psychoanalyst sitting rigid and cross-legged in his stiff-backed chair while the patient expounds on his ills; well, I didn't run my practice that way. I didn't even like the word patient; to me they're clients, and they're not "sick" as the term patient implies, just individuals needing someone to talk to, and if all went well, by the end they were just friends, not even clients anymore. True, I was only a grad student, 32 years old, sadly still renting and paying my student loans. I had to run my practice out of the office/living room in my apartment. Nevertheless I only saw these as advantages to really establishing strong bonds with my clients. I wasn't so far removed from college myself. I could understand what my clients were going through, the anxiety of classes and the pressures of deciding which first step to take in their respective paths through life. Any period of transition by its very nature is stressful and really can you think of any more crucial transition than from student to citizen in the real world? I can't. Further my apartment was small and homey and less sterile than a clinical office, it helped my clients to feel comfortable and to open up more easily. I had only recently started seeing clients, and being so young the school would only pass along to me those students suffering seemingly mild symptoms: simple anxiety, borderline depression, relationship advice, that kind of thing. Anyone showing the signs of schizophrenia, bipolar, OCD would be referred on to more "accomplished" professionals. That first session, I still remember like it was yesterday. There was a knock on my door. I opened it and smiled warmly extending my hand "Alexis, welcome. I'm Sam Madison, come in." She smiled a little hesitantly, taking my offered hand but remained outside my door, peering at the apartment behind me. She was very pretty, very fair-skinned her seemingly delicate features only marred by a smattering of faint freckles across her nose, a cute imperfection, long chestnut-brown hair pulled back and upswept in a double braid, revealing a slender white neck accentuating by a tight black interwoven necklace. But it was her eyes, that you couldn't help but notice: radiant, expressive pools of blue highlighted by the mascara and black eye liner she wore, perhaps to bring out her eyes, perhaps just to make her look older, and yet at that moment in those eyes all I saw was the flicker of uncertainty. Even in that first meeting I could see the girl she was, and the woman she was to become fighting for control. "That's a pretty necklace," I said gently, reaching out to finger it lightly "was it a gift?" "I got it on a trip to Peru," she said softly her eyes downcast. I realized I'd made her self conscious. "It's lovely," I said, motioning to the apartment, stepping back from the doorway to appear less imposing. "C'mon in, Alexis. Can I make you some tea? Coffee perhaps?" "No...thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. But she stepped in and quickly sat down on the black leather couch, smoothing out the front of her jeans primly. I sat back down in the accompanying chair and smiled reassuringly "Did you find your way here ok? I know when I say it's on Adams, I should really just say it's on Baseline because that's easier to find." Clients often relaxed when I'd chitter away inanely. She nodded. "But at least you had decent weather on the way over. Mid 70s in October, makes it hard to believe it's going to snow by this weekend, only in Colorado, I guess. Drives me almost..." "I'm not crazy y'know." She interrupted softly, eyes intent on her hands as she fidgeted. "I know you're not crazy, Alexis." I said as gently as possible before resting my intertwined fingers against my lips and pausing for effect. "I also know you're very smart. I saw you have a full ride here." "I just lost my focus for a little while," she said with a slight shake of her head. "Next semester will be different." "Anything on your mind, Alexis?" And her eyes rose to mine for the first time, and she just looked at me for awhile and I right back at her. She pressed her lips tight as if debating saying something. "I'm not here to judge, Alexis. By all means if something is troubling you, it might help to get it off your chest." "I.........can't," she whispered her blue eyes glimmering. There was so much just beneath the surface she couldn't say and it was eating her up inside. "I can't" she whispered again. "I understand," I continued earnestly as she turned her near tearful gaze to the window and the sunlight filtering through the canopy of oaks outside my apartment bay window. "You can say as much or as little as you want around me. I know you don't want to be here, Alexis. The terms of the scholarship require that because your grades slipped under a 3.0 that you spend an hour every week just talking with me." Her eyes flickered and she nodded. "But they don't require what we talk about," I was smiling warmly now. "What would you like to talk about Alexis? What indeed? Would you like to hear about my little girl Tammy? She just turned 5 last week and in kindergarten she's now learning how to write her name. That's her right there. She's with her mommy right now but I get to visit with her every weekend. It seems like she grows a foot every time I see her," I said handing her a small 5 by 7 frame of a little redheaded girl in pigtails I had on the table next to the couch. As she held the frame I could see her expression soften and she looked back to me and nodded then, wiping her eyes and I even caught the faintest touch of a smile at her lips. The rest of that session, I just spent talking, telling her about Tammy and how everyday she looks more like her mother, but how she'll always have her daddy's Irish red hair. I talked about myself, my experience at CU and why I came to Colorado from DC and why I wanted to be a psychologist. I just chattered from one subject to the next, and she said very little, but she listened earnestly and I could see her relax a little more as the session went on. By the time the session ended and she left, I felt like the roots of trust had been sown and that at least she liked me if not the forced sessions. And I was right. In each of the next few sessions she opened up a little more, feeling more and more comfortable with opening up and revealing her self to me. Her whole face lit up when she talked about home. She told me about how her mom was a reverend and her dad was a schoolteacher and how she missed how green it was in Seattle. She even told me of a boy she fell in love with named Colin and how he'd been so nervous the first time they kissed that when he leaned over he missed her lips entirely because his eyes were closed and he ended up sucking her nose, and she laughed then, a musical, girlish laugh that surprised me as she seemed an entirely different, more radiant person when she laughed. I smiled and asked if they were still together but she got real quiet then and changed the subject. I made note of this but didn't press any further. By a month in, I think she really viewed me as more of a friend than a therapist and the ease with which she'd talk about her days, or this class, or that boy she liked showed ever more so that she could trust me. To me that was just wonderful; I could see how guarded she had been dealing with me, and how each session she'd blossom a little more. I could see this whole new radiant girl emerging from the layers of wariness and cool distance she'd adorned herself in as some kind of protection. But what I could never reach, what I could never understand for the life of me was the reason for why this intelligent, pretty, witty girl would erect those layers in the first place. Whenever I'd broach the subject of what happened that caused her to begin struggling in school, all the light in her eyes would go out and she'd get really quiet again just murmuring softly: "I want to tell you, Sam. I do....but, I just can't. It's not a question of whether I trust you or not, I do, I do trust you," and her cheeks would flush a little bit "but....I just can't." The girl was a mystery and it was just driving me crazy. I knew there was something beneath the surface that if I could just discover, just bring to light, I could banish this darkness within her. I could bring out this inner light. I could save her. I spent all my waking hours puzzling through how to unravel this mystery. When I was playing with little Tammy, or drinking with friends, or working on my dissertation I was silently working through possible ways to get Alexis to open up. It became an obsession for me. Even when I was meeting with other clients, I admit my mind was on Alexis' issues. I knew that a good therapist shouldn't do things like this, that every client was just as valuable as the next and that when I'm with one, my attention should be undivided and focused on that individual. But, I'll tell you now, not all clients are created equal. Most of the rest I'd get had issues no more unusual than "My schedule is too busy! How do I balance it all?" or "How can I be confident enough to get this girl to notice me?" but with Alexis it was different. This was my chance to do some good in the world. This was why I chose psychology, and I knew I was good enough to solve through this. Then one morning I woke up and just like that I knew. The method would not have been endorsed by CU or any of the professors I'd had the privilege of working with, but I knew it would work. I knew to my soul it would work. I knew her subconscious would tell the secrets that her eyes hinted at but could never quite reach her lips. The answer was right there in front of me and I hadn't even bothered to acknowledge: hypo-therapy. Until now that is. I raised the subject to her at our next session, and I remember how her blue eyes captured mine so intensely, and I would've given away all the tea in China to know what she was thinking then. She pursed her lips, working through what I suggested. I had reassured her I knew what I was doing and that it could really help her. "In the hypnotic state you are experiencing without questioning. You lose your critical judgment, you lose that 100 pound weight you carry around with you," I'd said, pausing for effect. "Let me lighten the load. You don't have to bear the burden all yourself and this way, sharing will be completely painless." To be honest, I wasn't sure of that last part but it wouldn't do to look any less than completely 100% confident at that moment. And then a breakthrough: she nodded then almost imperceptibly and took a deep breath and closed her eyes. For some reason I'd been holding my breath which I was finally able to let out. I leaned forward then and set to work: "Now relax every muscle in your body and focus on my voice and only my voice..." *** Even I couldn't believe how thoroughly and the hypnotic suggestion I provided sunk in. In a ten minute span I'd reinforced the same message over and over again. That it was ok for her to release her inner demons. That she need not be embarrassed or humiliated by what followed, that she was now existing in a world without judgment, where the only thing that matters is what was, not what I think about it, not what she thinks about it. She followed my instructions to the letter and she remained sitting casually in the same position on the leather couch but her eyes were shut and her breathing was steady. By anyone's judgment she would appear asleep. But I knew she wasn't. "Alexis, I know something is troubling you. Something is on your mind. I know you think about it every moment when you're awake and that you dream about it when you're asleep. What happened?" And then just like that she started talking, but it wasn't her voice, not really. She was describing what happened to her in this clinical monotone as if in this moment she was removed from herself as if she were merely telling me about this other girl named Alexis. The story she told was this: *** Alexis had had a physical appointment with a Dr. Portman. This was a little after her 18th birthday and she just wanted to be sure everything was ok before she went off to college. He wasn't the normal family doctor, but Dr. Calloway was on vacation in Maui, and she figured there was no real difference. And there wasn't for most of the appointment. Everything went just the way any other physical she'd had until the end of the appointment when he asked: "Have you been sexually active, Alexis?" She could feel his eyes on her at that moment, and noted it, because during the entire checkup, he hadn't lifted his eyes once from his charts. Until now. "Yes, but only in the past couple months," Her relationship with Colin had begun to get physical. They'd only slept together twice, and it was so awkward that she wasn't even sure if he ejaculated within her as he was wearing a condom after all. She told Dr. Portman this and he nodded, seemingly understanding too. "Well, better have a look-see just to be safe. Could you drop your jeans please," he said casually, slipping on a pair of hygienic gloves and closing the door behind him. She had her own gynecologist by this point so it seemed odd he'd make this request, but he made it seem so run of the mill she didn't really question it. She stepped out of her sandals, and unbuttoned her jeans pulling them down her legs to pool at the floor. She sat back up on edge of the clinical bench feeling more than a little self-conscious in only her panties and tank top before this 50, no, probably 60 year old balding doctor. There was an awkward moment where he didn't move at all; she shifted uncomfortably as it seemed like his gaze was transfixed to her bare legs, but she wasn't sure because she couldn't actually see his eyes behind the reflection of his glasses. Then he gave her knee a gentle squeeze and his voice was soft yet somehow thicker as he said: "Lie down, dear. This will just take a moment." With seeming extreme care he gently lifted the hem of her tank top baring her flat stomach and began pressing and kneading the muscles beneath her abdomen. He was almost insistent in the way his fingers pressed into her and at first she just felt kinda strange and warm, but he kept at it. It wasn't long before it became uncomfortable and it made her feel like she had to pee. She squirmed a little, more nervous than anything that she wouldn't be able to prevent that warm release that his incessant fingers were causing, and that she would just die if she peed all over this doctor. But just when she didn't think she'd be able to hold it any longer his fingers lifted off. "Good, good, everything looks normal there" he'd mumbled and she'd realized she'd been holding her breath and finally felt like she could let it out...until his fingertips intertwined with the hem of her panties. He lowered them to mid thigh, exposing her pussy lips to him and the patch of her bush and she could feel herself begin to blush all over, which she was sure he must be noticing, which in turn only made her blush more. He gave her upper thigh a little squeeze which he meant to be reassuring: "Just relax, dear. Relax," but she couldn't help feeling like he shouldn't be touching her there. It only got worse. She then felt the faint, but increasingly insistent touch of his gloved fingers around her labia and when they'd brush her clit she'd feel a wave of pleasure go through her, and unbidden she could feel herself beginning to get wet down there, which was even more embarrassing. She tried to squirm away then, but with his free hand he'd pressed down on her shoulder, while the fingertips of his other hand continued their humiliating dance. She thought it couldn't get any worse until he shoved a pair of fingers up into her slit, causing her almost to jump if he hadn't steadied her with his other hand. He was leaned over her by this point and she could even smell his cologne as he violated her. Old Spice. Her boyfriend wore Old Spice she thought inanely. Her breathing was becoming more labored, and it was getting harder and harder for her to think rationally, unable to comprehend what was happening. Was he checking her pulse? He could feel his free hand pressed against the side of her neck. He grunted something, which she couldn't understand at the time, but she put it together afterwards. He'd said "Just checking your sexual response dear, breathe easy." In and out, his fingertips continued their torturous circuit, grazing her clit on the way out and then back in, pressing, manipulating. Increasingly fervent his fingers, which were gentle at first, now stabbed into her. And before she realized it he was practically on top of her, and those fingers at her neck weren't checking her pulse, he was caressing her in slow strokes which to her greater humiliation was actually turning her on more; every motion of his hands was sending waves of sweet pleasure coursing through her, but each time they would recede against that sick feeling that she was being molested by a man old enough to be her father. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek, he was breathing hard too apparently, and she turned her face away feeling sick. But she couldn't turn away from his insistent fingers in her slit; each entry and re-entry would cause her to whimper a little and she could feel her juices now flowing easy, trailing sticky lines down her inner thighs. She couldn't believe this, ugly, balding man, this doctor was able to do this to her. She could feel her hips begin to ride up into him, and the buttons of his collared shirt uncomfortably strafing against her exposed stomach, and then his other hand was back on her shoulder and his fingers were digging so painfully into the soft flesh there that she cried out. She wondered why he was hurting her too, when she realized he was grabbing her for greater leverage, to allow better access for his invading fingers down below. Her hips were bucking by this point, and she didn't want to, she didn't want to, she didn't want to, but she couldn't stop it from happening. She orgasmed then crying out loudly as she couldn't prevent the release of a torrent of her juices, leaving her with a wave after wave of shivers coursing through her body as her vision went all to white, and yet still his hand on her shoulder pressed her tight and he was so close at this point she could feel the stubble of his cheek against her own and see the folds and wrinkles of his neck. His clinical, revolting, molester neck. When the waves of pleasure subsided, she was left nauseous and the sick feeling of violation with no pleasure to cover it up, only shame. As the clarity to her vision returned, she saw he'd lifted off of her and was re tucking his shirt in. She came to realize that it wasn't just a blur, she saw a wet spot at the groin of his khakis, and was embarrassed that it was her juices that caused it, before realizing that it was his cum from the inside of his pants showing through and that made her feel even more revolted. He had gotten off on what he did to her. The Hypnotherapist Trilogy Ch. 02 I could've sworn my heart had stopped hearing her story. When her clinical recitation of that molestation stopped in that instant the room was so quiet I could hear every breath I took. I was completely out of my element. This was way outside of the kind of issues I was qualified to treat. Procedure dictated that I would pass Alexis on to a sexual abuse counselor, one who'd dealt with this kind of situation before. I tapped my pen against my lips and turned to look at the girl. Her eyes were still closed, and she was slumped casually on the couch as if she'd fallen asleep. She looked so angelic, so peaceful. I wondered what this hypnotized girl was thinking right then, if at all. Would she remember? I had no answers. I glanced to my referral rolodex, a whole listing of board-licensed therapists, psychiatrists and psychologists, probably any one more qualified than I to handle this. I really felt I should make that call. But I couldn't shake one critical nagging voice in my head. I was right! I was right, damnit! I knew there was something deeply held in poor Alexis. Something her eyes would hint at, a kind of desperation and I had begun to unearth her demons. Me, I was the one who'd gotten this far, and I was the one who was give this girl peace. I cracked my neck left and then right and shifted positions. My back was aching. I'd been sitting on the edge of my seat, so riveted to her story, that I hadn't even noticed how uncomfortable of a position it was. I braced myself, breathed out and flipped back through my pad to see the last thing I'd written: "Has this incident caused her to give up all sexual activity?" I noticed I'd underlined it twice. I looked back to Alexis. "Alexis, are you still with me?" She nodded. "Alexis, even though it's 4:00, I think it is in our best interests to press on through this. Do you have another hour?" A pause and then she nodded again. I steeled myself. I'd never found asking a question to be so difficult. I wondered if she could sense my nervousness. "Good, good. Now Alexis I need to get from....there, to where you are now. Was that the last sexual activity you've had?" "No." "So, you've had a boyfriend?" A long pause, and I was afraid she wasn't going to answer. God, how I wished then I knew how this hypnosis thing worked. "No, she whispered. The monotone was gone and she sounded like the very word pained her. "Just a casual thing, then?" "No." I froze. I wasn't expecting that answer, and I could feel those butterflies that had lodged in my stomach from last story. Unbidden, they returned. "Alexis, what happened?" She moved then which surprised then, shifted in her seat. She tucked a loose strand of her hair that had fallen across her face behind an ear, and she smoothed out the rest of her strands retying her ponytail, and she did it all without opening her eyes. Looking back, I could only figure this was a fidgety gesture, bracing herself for what she was going to tell next. I could tell she was nervous; her eyes would flicker as if she was in a bad dream and she furtively licked her lips one time. She continued: ***** She repressed what had happened. She just considered it the act of one sicko and she wasn't going to let it ruin her life. Her parents never found out either. By the time she'd went off to college she would barely even think of it. The occasional bad dream but that was it. She loved college at first; everything was new and exciting, but the best thing was getting to play tennis for CU. She loved the mind game of it all, the competition and she was good too. She was the #4 female singles player, no mean feat for a Freshman. She held her own too, winning more than she lost. The girls on the team became her closest friends, and she enjoyed the attention from some of the guys team. She was even asked out a couple times and she was flattered by it, but it was still too soon after what had happened, and so she'd always smile but decline. Going out with a whole group of friends was fine, but the thought of being alone with a guy somewhere still made her nervous. Still when Tim offered to give her a ride back from Fort Collins after a match against CSU she said yes. She liked Tim, she really did. He'd been one of the guys who'd asked her out but he'd never been pushy about it, and he had this easy smile which always put her at ease. It didn't hurt that he was kind of cute too; lean, tall and tan with unruly dirty blond hair and laughing brown eyes. He was kind of the classic, cute, cocky preppy guy. He was also a senior, and he seemed so much older and more worldly than her, which made her even more flattered by his attention. She knew he was rich: he drove a Land Rover to all the matches. She also knew he was a member of a fraternity but that was about it. The match she'd played that day was the toughest of her life. She'd been matched up with a little Vietnamese girl who was able to run down all her shots, the kind of player who lived entirely off her opponent's mistakes. She just couldn't put this girl away and the bright sun was really getting to her. 5 games into the first set she was winded. By the second she was dehydrated, and by the third she felt close to passing out. Up 4-3 in the third, she'd been given an IV from the medical staff and her coach gave her the option to forfeit, worried that she'd suffered some kind of sun stroke. But she shook him off and on shaky legs took the court again. She continued to fight on the court, and by the last game all the players on her team had come down to cheer her on. It was one the best moments of her life when on her last serve of the match, she aced the girl and collapsed right there on the court out of pure joy. Her team had swarmed her afterwards and she was given another IV and re-hydrated; such that by the time she got into Tim's car, she was completely spent, but she just couldn't stop smiling all the same. And at the beginning the ride was pleasant too. Tim was gracious and funny and curious about her: where she was from, had she any siblings, where did she learn to play tennis like that? When she asked about him, she was glad for his tendency to tell lengthy rambling stories about his frat escapades and previous matches he had. It gave her the chance to just relax and listen, even close her eyes for a bit and let the smooth ride of the Land Rover take her home. She must have briefly nodded off because she awoke to find his hand on her knee. She looked over at him, but he had his eyes on the road ahead. "That was a helluva match. I saw she had you 40-30 on your serve, and was sneaking up to net" he was saying, shaking his head in disbelief 'but that inside-out forehand you hit to pass her was an absolute thing of beauty." "I just was desperate to end the point," she said, rubbing a hand across her eyes. She was tired. Maybe she'd just imagined his hand there. "Showed a lot of heart going back out there," he was saying oh so casually, his fingertips sliding up her thigh under her tennis skirt with a slow caress. "You should have seen the expression on Coach's face when you went back out there, like you were the reincarnation of Steffi Graf or something. I bet if you asked for the entire week of practice off, he'd grant it." She could feel that nervousness rising up from the pit of her stomach, but she told herself to stay calm. She liked Tim and didn't want him to think otherwise. Just act normal. "Y'think so?" Her voice came out as a squeak. It embarrassed her. She sounded like a little girl; she hoped he didn't notice. He didn't, just continued on. "I say strike now. Take advantage of your gutsy win. Talk with reporters. I'm sure there'll be a piece on you in the Daily Camera." His caressing fingers were now tracing higher, and when they grazed against her panties she found herself squirming against her seatbelt. She just felt so tired and so weak, almost disbelieving that his arm was so deeply entrenched beneath her skirt, and she found herself transfixed to it; how his tanned arm contrasted so darkly against the paler flesh of her legs and the pristine white of her tennis skirt. "Now if they ask about the woman team's chances in Pasadena this year," he continued on heedless, as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to be testing the fabric of her panties as he drove and talked. "I say just be completely arrogant. Tell 'em you guys are planning on kickin' ass and takin' names when you get there." He continued stroking her inner thigh and tracing her panty line. She found herself getting more and more nervous. "Please don't," she whispered softly, pressing her hand to his through the skirt, lightly pushing it off of her. His look was pure surprise. "What..? I thought you liked it?" "I just...I just have had a long day and I'm exhausted." "No problem, Lexy" he said and he smiled then, removing his hand. "No problem at all." She relaxed then and he was silent for a long while, the only sound being the low reassuring hum of the Land Rover as it purred along. She felt her eyes go heavy again. She liked him, she really did. Maybe at next practice, she'll make a point to be especially nice to him. Her eyes opened. She didn't know how much time had passed but she did notice they had stopped. She turned to see that he'd opened her passenger-side door. "Wha'...where are we?" Looking through both the side window and windshield, all she saw were eerily lit corn-fields. This definitely wasn't Boulder. "C'mon out," his voice was playful. She could see how white his smile was, lit by moonlight. His eyes were hidden. "There's something I want to show you." She unhooked her seatbelt gingerly, smoothing out the hem of her skirt. It had ridden up a bit while she was sleeping. She squinted at him. "Tim, I just wanna go home. I'm tired and I don't know where we are." "C'mon sleepy," he'd grabbed her wrist gently but firmly tugging her to stand up "this'll only take a few minutes." Reluctantly she stepped out of the car, her muscles protesting the entire time. Her legs felt like jello and she was beginning to feel sore all over. He slid an arm over her shoulders and was pointing towards the stars "God aren't they beautiful? See that cluster over there, that's Ursa Minor. And that bright one is Polaris." "Tim, I really don't ca—" He kissed her hard. Her wordless cry was silenced forcibly by his lips, She could taste mint on his breath and he smelled of sweat and deodorant. It was overwhelming. She fought to disentangle herself from him. "What the hell are you doing?" She backed away, blue eyes wide. He trapped her between his arms, palms pressed to the Land Rover. "Lexy, I know what we both want. I've seen how you look at me. And I think you're just about prettiest girl I've ever seen." He stepped closer, and she could feel the heat of his lean form pressed close. "Just...relax," the last came out as a whisper, his lips were a breaths-length from her ear. Her head was spinning. She had just wanted a ride home that was it. She couldn't seem to think or find the right words. He was kissing her again now, softer more sensual, but she could also feel his tongue forcing entry as well. His hands were placed roughly on her breasts and he was kneading them as he forced her back hard against the Land Rover. She cried out from pain as the trail of his lips traced sloppily across her chin and down the smooth, exposed flesh of her neck, sucking and biting as he went, leaving a trail of red across her soft, white flesh. She couldn't seem to wrap her mind around what was happening, and could only whimper against the warmth of his lips and the kneading of his hands against her breasts. He was getting more excited, she could tell by the bulging manhood that was pressing against her through his shorts, and he kept riding her hard against the side of the car, causing her to cry out in pain each time as the small of her back would smack against the door handle. He was whispering between kisses along her neck: "God...I've wanted you so bad....since the moment I saw you. That pretty smile ....you'd save just only for me....and god you feel so good...and you.....smell amazing" "Please, Tim...no. Not here, not like this," she whimpered, breathing very hard now. But he bit her then, hard, at the intersection of her neck and shoulder and she cried out again which only seemed to turn him on more. He was getting rougher and more animalistic, grinding into her more and more. She tried and tried to push him away, but she was left too weak from the match and he barely even noticed. She would have been unable to stand had he not propped her up against the car. Before she could realize, she noticed his hands had slid off her breasts and moved around to her back. He forced down the zipper and with a violent pull, he wrenched the tennis blouse from her shoulders. It seemed almost a dream as she could see the faint smattering of freckles on the tops of her pale white shoulders and her bra was completely exposed; her nipples hard by his touch and the chill. Her skin looked almost ghostly against his own. Even he seemed to stop to admire the view, one arm snaked about her waist as his dark eyes drank in the curve of her breasts and her slender figure. "So...lovely," he breathed. She'd protectively crossed her arms to shield her breasts from his gaze edging as far away from him as she could, but he didn't even seem to notice as he almost gently traced the flat line of her stomach with fingers, experiencing every breath she took. She watched him warily, through a loose strand of chestnut hair that come loose from her ponytail had had fallen across her eyes, thrown off by how he can be so violent one moment, and so voyeuristic the next. She just wanted him to be done with whatever he was doing so that they could go home and she would never have to think of this again. "Shh, Lexy" he was caressing her cheek, almost gently, with the backs of his fingers. When she didn't say anything, he took it for affirmation, and idly grazed a thumb across her bottom lip, teasing it before prying its entry, forcing her to suck it. His other hand had trailed down to her waist and he was toying with the hem of the dress. "Yes, yes..that's my girl," he was saying almost soothingly. Then his other hand was at her waist too and he was beginning to deliberately slide her skirt down her legs. "Please, Tim....don't. Please," she was beginning to cry. She grabbed both of his wrists pleadingly. But she wasn't strong enough to stop him though, not even close, and he was able to force the skirt down her bare legs. "Shh, Lexy," he was saying "It'll be ok. We're just having some fun, me and you. Now step," he commanded, tapping the side of her thigh and she complied, tears streaking mascara down her cheeks as she stepped over the skirt that had pooled at her shoes. And then his fingertips were at her panties again, massaging against the front of her pussy in the same insistent manner that the Doctor had. The flashback of it, assaulted her, and she felt the same incessant panic building in her stomach. His hand continued kneading between her legs, ignoring her attempts to push him away, and she felt kind of insanity building within her. She frantically turned her blurred vision to the area around them, looking for some kind of help. There had to be something, and then there was, a lit farmhouse in the distance. A beacon of light; if she could only get there .When she felt him trying to force her panties down her legs, it was just too similar to what the pervert doctor had done, and she just lost it. With whatever remaining strength she had left, she brought her knee up as hard as she could into his groin. She wasn't sure how solidly she'd gotten him, but he'd fallen away with a tremulous groan, and for the first time she had space and could feel the cool night air on her exposed flesh. She didn't waste a moment. On shaky legs she took off for the farmhouse. She could see it so clearly, it really wasn't so far. She'd make it and the kindly folk there would drape her in a blanket and help her and protect her, and she'd put this whole terrible episode behind her. She could see it so clearly in that moment. She felt the stirring of hope deep within. And then she was falling. She yelped as his hand had snaked around her ankle at the last possible moment and he'd yanked with surprising strength. She fell hard to the ground, skinning both knees, an elbow, and her cheek. She could feel the cool trickle of blood. And such pain! She could see he was standing now, his form completely shadowed. He was shaking his shaggy main of hair as if fighting through a daze. Her heart sank, she must not have connected as cleanly as she thought. Desperately, she got up onto all fours. Her legs were too weak at this point; they wouldn't bear her weight, so she began frantically trying to crawl in the direction of the farm house. She'd gone a few paces before realizing that she wasn't getting anywhere. He'd grabbed her ankle again, and then his hand was on her knee and then thigh and then he'd flipped her on her back, so easily, as if she weighed no more than a child. What happened after was a blur in her mind, all she can recall is image after image in her head, like an unwanted slide show of humiliation. Image after image. She's crying, and he's there between her legs. He's thrown off his shorts and all the tenderness in him is gone. Then an image of his hard member, free from his boxers, looking terrifying and huge and veined and purple in the moonlight. And then he's in her, and it hurts so bad! Each savage thrust causes her to scream, and she was screaming so loud that she was sure someone would come running. But they never did. How can they not hear her? Her smaller, lithe form is being ravaged. It feels like he's going to break her in two. And then he's done, but he's still on her, crushing her. She can't breathe. Why is he still on her? She could feel his hands all over her body, and he's sucking on one of her nipples and she's too weak to fight back or even move. She's whimpering softly, and then his lips are on her own, and she can taste her own juices on his lips, while one hand is spreading her juices through the sleek hair of her ponytail and the other is up between her legs inside of her, fucking her lewdly as her hips betray her and writhe and its all too much. She blacks out completely. She didn't recall how she got home that night, but she did wake up the next morning in her bed. Her whole body was sore, and she was bruised all over, inside and out. The only time she got out of bed that day was to rip up her tennis skirt and blouse, seam by seam, and the parts that didn't rip, she cut savagely, until she had no more energy and collapsed back onto her bed, crying softly, curled up in a fetal position. She missed a week and a half of classes. When she started going again, and people would ask about her cuts and bruises, she would tell them she fell rollerblading. She never saw a doctor and she never played tennis again. And then she was silent once more. I opened my eyes. I hadn't realized it, but I had had my eyes closed the entire time she told that story, re-living every painful detail in my mind's eye. But I went cold when I saw her. It was a chilling expression. She was looking directly at me. Her eyes were an impossible shade of blue and tearful, desperately trying to find some meaning in my gaze for why she had to tell me all that had happened. It was a naked gaze, and it broke my heart. But there was something else in that beseeching look. I'm not sure how I knew, but I knew. There was one more crucial thing that had happened to her. And I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight if I didn't find out what. ***** The Hypnotherapist Trilogy Ch. 03 Alright, be cool, Sammy boy, be cool. You've spent years training for this kind of thing, you can do it. I realized I hadn't even moved since I'd opened my eyes, so with an arch to my back I stood up, ignoring my protesting joints. I moved slowly, hands out in front of me to signify I meant no harm as I approached her, blue eyes following my every movement warily. I carefully sat down next to her. She didn't move but I could see her shoulders tense, that fight or flight animal response glimmering in her eyes. I didn't say anything. As gently as I could I wrapped my arms around her, and hugged her tenderly. She tried to push me away at first before collapsing against my chest and she began to sob hard; huge wracking sobs that caused her whole body to tremble. God she seemed so small in that moment, her slim form completely enveloped in my arms. I knew she had carried the burden of what had happened to her for so long, and that she'd had to keep strong for herself for so long, that finally sharing her most shameful moments with another was cathartic beyond a doubt, but even more so it was unimaginably traumatic. So I held her like that for half an hour, an hour? I couldn't tell you how long, I held her until tears tapered off and the shivering stopped. She began to sniffle and she pushed back from me a little, trying to regain her composure. She was dabbing at her eyes and I handed her a tissue. "How about this," I touched her cheek fondly, holding her gaze with my own "I make us a pot of tea, would you like that?" She sniffled and nodded. I gave her forehead a kiss and retired to the kitchen. I went with Earl Grey, brewing it up in the kettle and pouring two steaming mugs worth. I added a dab of honey to each and a little of the "seasoning" extra for her cup that would help ease her troubled mind. "It's snowing," I heard her say with soft wonder. I looked back and I could see her eyes focused on the bay window and sure enough, gentle flakes were coating the tree branches and window sill. It had been sunny and warm when she'd arrived that day. "Kinda magical, eh?" I said returning to the living room handing her a cup, and sitting back down next to her. "Is it alright if I stay a little bit longer? Do you have anywhere you have to be? I'm just..." "Of course, Alexis," I said soothingly. I completely understood. She didn't want to be alone at that moment. She'd spent the last year alone, tortured by those inner demons that now were free. "You can even spend the night if you like." "No, I don't mean that" she said, studying my gaze. "I just can't leave right away after all that. I need to decompress, or something...I just need a few moments." "By all means. How's the tea?" "It's good," she smiled faintly. "A little sweet but good." And then she was silent and I was silent, and it was kind of nice. One of those comfortable gaps in a conversation. The snow seemed to muffle everything, like they were living in a world without sound. She had her mug cupped between her two hands sipping gingerly, her eyes focused on nothing in particular straight ahead. After some time, I touched her arm "Alexis, what else happened?" "What..?" She turned to me, regaining focus from her reverie. "I know there's more that you haven't told me yet. I think it is best just to get it all out there. We can start the healing process once it's all on the table, but while you keep it to yourself, it continues to poison you." She closed her eyes and I could see the pain there, and then when she opened them, there was a glimmer in those blue pools, a pleading glimmer. "I can't tell you the rest. I can't..." "I can re-hypnotize you. You won't even realize what it is being said, until afterward." "No, no..." she shook her head firmly once, her voice barely above a whisper "It doesn't work." "But..." "I was faking," she turned from me, unable to maintain my steady gaze. "I needed to tell someone. I felt like I was going insane. The memories kept hammering at me and hammering...and you were so nice to me," her eyes were beautiful when they returned to my own, so desperate to make me understand. "I wanted to tell you. I so...wanted... to tell you, but I just couldn't. I was too humiliated. It was too embarrassing to just come out and say it. When you mentioned hypnotizing me, it gave me a pretense with which I could feel comfortable telling you." "Ok..." I nodded slowly, taking all this in. I let loose a deep sigh "But how is this last thing any different?" Her eyes were searching my face, as if deciding whether she should even explain this. "It's worse," she whispered. Worse? How could it possibly be worse? This girl had been sexually molested by her doctor and brutally raped by a boy she liked. What could be worse than that? "Alexis, I don't understand." She grabbed one of my hands with both of her smaller ones. She looked at me directly, pausing for emphasis before she spoke. I could see she was blushing some. "Please Sam. You have to understand. It's unspeakably humiliating..." She looked away again. "That's why it's so important that you tell me what happened." I gave one of her hands a firm squeeze and tried to catch her eyes. "You know you can trust me, Alexis." Her lips quivered, she looked down, and when she looked up, tears were streaming down her cheeks "I didn't deserve what happened. I didn't ask for it." "I know, Alexis, I know. You know you can trust me. Tell me what happened," I said softly, touching her cheek fondly and then more firm: "Tell me." She shook her head stubbornly, tearfully, her eyes downcast. She wasn't even looking at me. I lifted her chin, maybe too roughly. I needed her to meet my gaze though. "It's important that you tell me." "Please don't make me," her tearful gaze was radiant at that moment, she was squeezing my hand urgently. Then just a whisper: "Please..." I probably should have acquiesced. I was trained to acquiesce in this kind of situation. But the words that came out were this: "I need to know, Alexis. I need to know. So tell me." Then belatedly: "to help you." Her wide blue eyes were searching my face for something. She must not have seen what she was looking for because he look she gave me then chilled me to the core. I can't even really describe its liquid intensity, all her tears were gone but her eyes still shimmered, and she was looking at me like she was seeing me for the first time. She gently, but coolly disentangled her hands from my own, watching me the whole time. I thought she was going to stand up and walk out right then, but she didn't move. She merely undid her ponytail, shaking out her hair, before retying it. She pulled her legs up beneath her to sit Indian style, her eyes focused on her hands at her lap. I noticed she was shivering. She wasn't facing me anymore. She was faced forward, and her eyes were downcast so when she started speaking I didn't even hear. Her voice was an almost completely inaudible whisper. I was shocked. After all that she had submitted to my demand. She had begun to tell the third story. ***** She hadn't wanted to comeback for the Fall, but CU was the only place she had a scholarship so she didn't have much of a choice. As it happened she had a horrendous lottery number and couldn't get a single, so she was randomly assigned a roommate. She ended up with a fiery Indian girl named Sariya. She was pretty and petite, and Alexis had figured she was respectful and demure like most of the other Indian girls she had known. But she had a wicked wolfish smile and would talk so matter-of-factly about fetishes and sado-masochism, swinging both ways all other kinds of erotica that would leave Alexis blushing. Still she liked Sariya's boundless energy and feistiness and it wasn't long before she became more a friend than just a roommate. She was persistent too. Every weekend she'd beg Alexis to come out with her to a party or Pearl Street or a Frat House, but each time Alexis refused. She was paranoid enough about going to class everyday, and being in any kind of crowded social scene would have been enough to send her into a panic. Still Sariya was gradually wearing her down, and Alexis appreciated what the girl was trying to do. "We'll get you out of your shell yet," Sariya would say with a mischievous smile. "I think we'd have a lot of fun together." Come homecoming weekend, Alexis finally relented to join Sariya for a drink at Pearl Street. Just one drink, and then they were going home. That was the terms. With a smile Sariya agreed. Sariya knew the owner of a place called the Red Peacock, and they'd be able to get in even though they were both underage. Fittingly, Sariya glitzed up with heavy make-up, a short red miniskirt and haltertop, her usually straight raven-black hair, frizzed and teased. The girl loved attention. Alexis didn't. It was a warm night so she went with a simple black tanktop, jeans, sandals and a ponytail. The only makeup she wore was the mascara and eyeliner she'd taken to wearing after the rape. It hid the bags under her eyes from the consistent lack of sleep, but moreso, it matched her appearance with how she felt; like a ghost. It felt like she just haunted places now, and was invisible to the world. Her life had been taken from her. She just wanted to be normal again and going out with Sariya was supposed to be the first step. With a reckless smile Sariya took Alexis' arm and guided her down the cobblestone way of Pearl Street, between store fronts and lamp posts, but more than anything just the pressing mass of humanity. Everyone was in high spirits and had definitely dabbled in high spirits, either drunk or well on their way there. Still, petite little Sariya blazed a path through the revelers with considerable ease, dragging Alexis through the crowd before ducking out a side street and then descending down an almost hidden stairwell just off the main strip. Out front the lamps were red and adorned with Chinese characters, and the windows were stained glass. Within, it was dark, but too finely decorated to be considered a dive bar. The walls were lined with expansive wooden booths, while the center was just open space with people vibrating on the dance floor to thumping House music. Overwhelmingly the theme was red, red lights and red stools; even the bartender wore red and it cast a sinister light on everything and everyone. The bouncers didn't even accost them, as they both gave a nod of recognition to Sariya as she walked right on past them with nary a second glance. Even the bartender and Sariya exchanged a meaningful look, and Alexis caught a twitch to his lips; he must've been her contact at the bar. Alexis wanted to get acclimated to the place, but Sariya was like a whirlwind and she nodded and smiled over at another guy sitting alone in the corner booth. She guided Alexis in that direction. "Ranji!" She said with an easy grin "How are you?" Ranji's head lolled up to her. He had been peeling the label off his half-empty Budweiser Bottle. He squinted at Sariya, before a smile of recognition crossed his face. It was clear he was very drunk. "Ah, Sariya!" He slurred. "I didn't think you'd be here." "I didn't think so either," She said, ushering Alexis up next to her "But after weeks of nagging, I got my girl here to come out and party. Ranji, this is my friend and roommate Alexis." "Alexis, oh so nice to meet you!" She smiled faintly in return and then he was standing and draped over her in an awkward hug, before nearly missing the booth entirely as he sat back down. Sariya emitted a high pitch giggle and turned back to Alexis "Go, go, sit down. I'll get the drinks. What's your fancy?" "Just, oh I don't know, whatever you're getting." Alexis said distractedly; she was scanning the room, warily noting all the people who surrounded them and keeping tabs on the various exits. With an easy smile, Sariya was off through the crowd. Alexis sat down across from Ranji, who was once again intent on the Budweiser label, but he couldn't seem to keep his head from lolling. He seemed so focused on this one thing that he didn't even seem to notice Alexis was there. She looked over to the bar. Sariya was exchanging whispers with the bartender for what seemed like quite a while. And then she was off back through the crowd with two martini glasses filled with a greenish liquid. She handed one to Alexis and sat down next to her. Catching Alexis' questioning look, she took a sip and said: "Apple Martinis, drink up my friend. Drink." And to Alexis' surprise, Sariya was lifting Alexis' cup and pressing it to her lips. Alexis could only drink it all down and for the most part it was very good, but the aftertaste was surprisingly bitter, and she was left trying to wipe the taste from her lips. Sariya saw this and laughed "Ray makes 'em strong doesn't he?" "Yeah, wow" Alexis said with a faint curl to her lips "Been awhile since I last had a drink but I don't recall it tasting like that." She paused, and noticed that Ranji was slumped in his seat, his eyes half-lidded, grinning at the both of them for no reason. Alexis glanced over to Sariya who just rolled her eyes. "Most of the time he's like this. Completely drunk." Alexis could almost empathize. Her head was pounding from the House beat and the red light everywhere. "So I heard you played tennis last year." Sariya turned to her. Not her favorite subject. "Yeah I played some." "I didn't see you in the team photo. Did you not stay until the end?" Alexis shifted uncomfortably. "No. I just...lost my interest in the sport." She turned her gaze towards where the bathroom might be. That martini had gone right through her and she had to pee. It also left her feeling off somehow, but that could just be the strange club, or the fact that she was out in this crowded place and was beginning to feel claustrophobic. "I heard you were good too," Sariya looked confused, clearly not taking Alexis' hint. "Seems odd that you would quit when you were winning all these matches." "I...suppose I just wasn't having a good time." "Seems fun enough to me. I mean to play tennis at that level, and be able to hang out with all those fun people. I heard the guys team is cute too" Sariya was laughing now, but there seemed an edge to it. She couldn't help feeling like Sariya was hinting at something. "I guess," she said noncommittally. God how her head was pounding! And the room seemed to be spinning on its axis. She really had to pee now, but at the moment she didn't want to risk standing, at least until the dizziness spell had passed. "I admit I heard something about you," Sariya had completely turned to her. She couldn't see the Indian girl's eyes, but she could feel their intensity. "Oh?" She put her fingertips to her temples and massaged, eyes shut. Equilibrium was eluding her. "Yeah, you're going to find this funny," Sariya said with amusement in her tone as she touched Alexis' arm. "I heard you had sex with that senior Tim." Alexis felt a chill go up her spine. She tried to center on Sariya, but her eyes didn't seem to focus. "No, never!" Alexis exclaimed "Where did you hear that?" With extreme care she tucked a tendril of her chestnut hair delicately behind an ear; a nervous gesture. "From a few different people," Sariya said with a casual shrug. "Well it's not true," Alexis murmured rising to her feet. She really had to go, and by this point she was going to take her chances with the dizziness. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." Sariya hand gently but firmly caught her wrist, ushering her back to her seat. "Wait just a sec. What happened then?" Her brown eyes were rapt upon her own. For the life of her, Alexis could not figure why Sariya was harping on this. She shook her head confused. "What..? Does it matter?" "It does. Talk," Sariya wasn't her usual bubbly self, she was just...intent. She noticed Sariya was still holding her wrist. The music sounded distant now, the hammering drumbeat relegated to a dream. "Whoever told you that lied," she whispered. She could feel her bladder convulse, it was getting painful trying to hold it in. "Now if you'll excuse me." She moved to rise again, but Sariya pulled her back down with surprising strength. The girl was smaller than her, but strong, or at least stronger than her at that moment. Alexis tried to meet her gaze, bewildered. "C'mon, why the hurry? Let's just figure this thing out." Sariya smiled, but even in the dark club Alexis could tell it didn't reach her eyes. "See it's funny you say that." Boom-boom-boom, her head was still pounding and now the room was spinning faster and faster and she was feeling sick. She had to shut her eyes to regain some composure. She had no response to Sariya. "See it's funny," her voice was coming from very close. She could smell the musky perfume on Sariya. It was intensely strong and intensely close and it all added to her nausea. "Because Tim told me himself." She could feel Sariya's nails digging painfully into the flesh of her wrist. Her roommate's sudden nastiness was like a slap to the face. She opened her eyes looking for a source of help somewhere. But Ranji had passed out and was snoring softly with the back of his head against the booth. "What, Tim?" Alexis couldn't seem to think clearly. "How do you--?" "How do I know, Tim?" Sariya snapped. Then she laughed; a bitter sound. "How do I know Tim," She repeated mockingly. "I was his girlfriend. I know you seduced him you fucking whore." It was all too much. "Sariya...no, it's not like he said," she hated her voice then, sounding weak, like she was backpedaling. She had to squeeze her legs together, increasingly afraid of peeing right then and there. "Oh how was it then?" Sariya sneered. It was clear she was taking pleasure in Alexis' extreme discomfort. This wasn't the same girl she thought she knew. "It...." But she couldn't tell the girl what had happened. Not here. Not like this. "Please, Sariya...I really, really have to go," she was trying to blink back her tears. "Oh do you?" Sariya mocked. Then her hand was under Alexis' tanktop, pressing hard against her, just beneath her abdomen, massaging her there. "Well, c'mon slut. Then go!" It was agonizing. She realized in a sick instant that the Indian Girl was literally milking her. She tried to push Sariya's hand away but in her disoriented state, she couldn't even fight off this small girl. She gritted her teeth, but she was breathing hard and she could feel the control over her bladder waning. "Why are you doing this?" She moaned. "Just humiliating you, like you did me when you fucked my boyfriend. He dumped me after that, and everyone was talking about me behind my back and laughing. Laughing! The things they said. That an Indian girl wasn't good enough for Tim. That he wanted a little pale white slut the whole time." Her strong little fingers were kneading into her harder and more urgently. It was so intensely wrong what Sariya was doing to her. She was trying to cause Alexis to lose control over her body and it was working. Sariya was tugging a little bit on her ear lobe, mockingly sensual. She whispered huskily "C'mon, Alexis. Just let go." "No!" She moaned, but her resolve was weakening. "Let go, let go, let go," Sariya chanted slow and sultry. Her massage was relaxing the only muscles that Alexis wanted to keep tight. She wanted to fight this girl, desperately she did, but she couldn't. Sariya was forcing her to urinate with expert hands, like she'd done it before. Then she felt it: the slow, warm, sickening trickle of pee down her leg. She gasped at the feel of it. She had never been so abased, and in public too! Sariya noticed too, the dark spot at the crotch of her jeans was clearly visible, and barked harsh laughter. 'What's the matter Alexis? Having control problems?" And even as she was mocking her, she was still pressing harder and harder against her abdomen, massaging her kugel muscles, wringing every last drop out of her. And it just kept coming. Every second made the situation more humiliating. "That's it, Alexis, let it all out," she soothed. The Hypnotherapist Trilogy Ch. 03 The betrayal by this girl she thought was once her friend hurt almost as much as the humiliation. It made it even worse that she was being abused by a girl who was smaller than she was. Was she really so weak? Her cheeks were flushed, and she was beyond light-headed at this point. She just wished she could disappear. "Hey, Ranji" Sariya was saying, sounding like she was a million miles away, even though she could feel her breath against her ear. "Wanna see how Alexis lost control and peed all over herself?" Ranji had apparently regained consciousness. For a moment Alexis was hopeful that this stranger would sympathize with her situation. Instead she saw a veiled sadistic glimmer in his hooded eyes. He nodded eagerly, lips twisted in a lecherous smile. "Grab her then," Sariya said with a smile, and he did. He reached over the table and painfully grabbed each of her wrists pulling her upper body down on the table. "Ow!" The edge of the table was cutting painfully into Alexis' ribs. She tried desperately to pull away from Ranji, but his grip was like a vise. She could smell the rancid alcohol on his breath as he exerted himself holding her tight against the table. Meanwhile Sariya with her nimble fingers had unbuttoned Alexis' jeans and thrown off her zipper. "NO!" Alexis tried to writhe away from her but Ranji would not allow it. Swiftly, Sariya had slipped under the table and was pulling the jeans from her struggling legs with vicious tugs. Tears were streaming down Alexis' face as she turned to the bar area. The bartender, Ray was watching as well as several other guys, and even a couple girls paying rapt attention to what they were doing to Alexis. Not only did not a single person stir from their stool, they actually seemed to be enjoying her plight. The expression on most of the guys faces was lecherous, except for Ray. He was just smirking cruelly. Even the girls were watching her with rapt interest. Her shame only intensified; completely shocked at the number of voyeurs who were enjoying her humiliation. She couldn't understand. She had never done anything to these people. With one last pull Sariya had her stained jeans off, and emerged triumphantly from under the table twirling it in her hand and receiving a roar of cheers from the bar. She threw the pair of jeans to the masses, and the fat red-head who caught it stood up and showed it off to everyone else like it was a souvenir from a baseball game. He even stopped to smell it. "Stand her up," she heard one guy yell. "I wanna see the little sluts' dirty panties!" It was another voice, a girl. "Lift her," Sariya commanded Ranji. He complied, grabbing her under one arm as Sariya grabbed the other and they lifted Alexis to her feet with ease. Woozy, and barely still in the present, Alexis' head lolled. Sariya made a great showing of massaging Alexis' soiled panties, calling further attention to it as Ranji brayed laughter and amused gasps erupted from the bar area. Sariya humiliatingly forced Alexis onto her lap, like she was a child that was in need of a story. "Please, Sariya..." she whimpered piteously. She shoved her hand down the front of Alexis' panties as she leaned in real close to her. "God, Alexis you feel so good," she purred "and except for peeing yourself, you smell good too." Alexis could only whimper faintly, seemingly paralyzed at this point. The girl was all over her, one hand in her panties, teasing her, as the nails of her hands grazed painful red lines along her neck. She was nibbling at Alexis' ear again. Even Ranji pressed his lips to Alexis', stealing her breath as she tried to fight him off. He smelled awful, tasting of beer and cigarettes, and he was forcing his tongue into her mouth. She thought she was going to suffocate from lack of air, but Sariya just shoved him away. Clearly she was the one in control of the situation. "She tastes like honey," Ranji mused, his voice thick with lust "I wonder if all pretty little white girls taste that way." Sariya's fingers knew all the right spots as she fingered Alexis' clit roughly, and traced her pussy lips. Through it all, Alexis felt her body responding as she started to get wet. Even through her intense shame, she felt the waves of pleasure coursing rising up through her. Her body was betraying her further as it responded to Sariya's practiced fingers. "How y'feelin', white slut?" Sariya whispered, obvious pleasure in her voice. "I know I was a bad girl to make you that 'special' martini. But I'll be honest, I think you like it when I fingerfuck you. Look how wet you are." Alexis tried to writhe away, her breaths coming ragged but Sariya, relentless, continued to press close, her fingers sliding in and out of her in a consistent, maddening rhythm. Her nails were raking up and down Alexis' arm, and Sariya's tongue was out licking her deliberately down her cheek and along her neck. Distantly he could feel Ranji's hand on her breast and he was twisting her nipple, but she barely noticed it compared to all that Sariya was doing to her body. "I can see why Tim went for you," Sariya taunted "you white girls are fucking easy." Alexis could only whimper in turn. She couldn't fight, she couldn't think. Her entire existence at that moment was centered on the sensations deep in her core that Sariya continued to tease out. And then for the second time that night, Sariya forced Alexis' release, a lengthy, shuddering ordeal as she gushed all over Sariya's hand. Her body was wracked with a convulsing shudder. Sariya unleashed a triumphant laugh and marked each of Alexis' cheeks with her own sticky juices before settling her hand back between Alexis' legs. Her pussy was beyond sensitive, and Sariya's touch made her squirm. "I guess that makes you my bitch now, doesn't it? I think I'll keep you." By this point Alexis was too out of it to notice, let alone fight her. From a million miles away she heard Sariya calling to the guys at the bar. "Give me a hand with her. Take her to the backroom. Pretty little Alexis' night is nowhere near done. I'm enjoying this way too much." And as rough hands lifted Alexis to her feet and began to dragging her towards the back, she could feel a whole host of eyes on her exposed body, and it felt like each was raping her with a look. She even felt the flash of a camera. "Mm, I want that tight little ass," she could hear from behind her. "C'mon Sariya, just give me five minutes between those slender legs of hers," another pleaded desperately. "I'll have her calling me daddy by the end of the night." As she was dragged, she could hear Sariya in her ear, venomously whispering: "I saw you once last year. For every ounce of shame I felt, I swore to publicly humiliate you a thousand times worse. I made sure you were my roommate, and waited for a chance. But you were so fucking shy, so I waited and waited, and some days I'd watch you sleep; so pretty and tormented. I could've ravaged you then, but I wanted your shame to be so complete, so thorough...so public." Her head was swimming. She couldn't make sense of anything.. No-one was this insane. This had to be dream. Somehow her ponytail had come loose and long strands of hair had fallen across her eyes, blurring her vision further. The door cracked open just a hint, and she could see her reflection in a mirror against the back wall. Streaks of mascara were running down her cheeks from her tears, and her neck and shoulders were flushed red from Sariya's attention. Then she saw a glimmer of something reflected in the mirror against the far wall. Something metal. Iron manacles. A wordless cry escaped her throat. It scared her worse than she could say. "Please," she was whimpering, saying anything to get her to stop. "Sariya, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry...please don't. I'll do anything.." "I know you will, sweetie," Sariya sounded almost gentle as she put a single, silencing finger to Alexis' lips. "I know you will." Alexis' voice trailed off for good then and she was silent once more, her whole face and neck flushed. ***** Her story leaves every fiber in every muscle of my body standing on edge. I have never felt such electricity. It's unbelievable. Words can't even describe it. Her near proximity to me during the telling was almost too titillating to bear. The "seasoning" I had put into her tea, the sedative, had begun to affect her halfway through the story. Her whispers had gotten fainter and she had begun to slur her words but somehow she made it all the way through. She murmurs something unintelligible and then clumsily, drowsily she tries to lift her sweatshirt off over her head. Clearly she is burning up. I help her lift off her sweatshirt and throw it aside. Underneath she only wears a flimsy white tank top. The soft pale flesh of her arms is covered in welts and there are bite marks along the base of her neck, shoulders and collar bone. Sweet Jesus, the whole thing happened exactly like she said. I feel shivers originating from the base of my spine. Her head falls back to the couch and she is long gone. I touch her shoulder to wake her, then her neck to make sure there was still a pulse, just to be sure. There is but she is out cold. She trusts me too: told me deeper, darker secrets than anyone could ever imagine. God, the inner resilience of this girl: anyone else and they'd be in a padded cell by now or suicide victim. I look over at her. Her breathing is easy, peaceful. I can smell the sweet, clean scent of her hair. I run a couple fingertips over her lips, just to feel their softness. Gingerly I pry the mug from her fingers and set it down on the coffee table. Then with greater care, sliding one arm under her knees and one beneath her back, I lift her in my arms. She feels lighter than I could ever imagine and when she murmurs faintly in her sleep and her soft lips part just so and her freckled little nose scrunches adorably, I decide then and there she will sleep with me in my bed tonight. When the nightmares come, she'll need me there to kiss her, caress her, hold her and tell her everything will be all right. After all, someone has to protect the girl from all those perverts out there. I lock the door behind us.