She screams at the top of her lungs when I grab her shoulders and manhandle her into the darkened bathroom. Her claws come out and she starts swiping at me, but I anticipate the move, grabbing her wrists. I bring my face close to hers, brush my lips across hers to let her know it’s me, then bind her wrists with one of my hands. Roughly, I set her on the countertop. She shrieks when I shove her thigh to the side and start undoing my belt.
“Stop!” she yells as she struggles.
“No,” I growl. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, your head will crack the mirror behind you.”
She whimpers, but doesn’t say the safe word. I unzip my pants and pull my dick out. I’m not planning on putting it in her, but I want to tease her with it.
“I’m going to bend you over and put this big dick in your ass,” I warn, though we both know it’s a lie. “I’m going to tear you up and make you bleed. Scream and I’ll make it ten times worse.”
“No,” she begs, “please don’t.”
I slap her pussy with the tip of my dick, then slide it between her lips, but don’t enter her. She’s slick. Dirty girl. Enjoying every second of this.
“You’re not supposed to get turned on, sick girl,” I taunt. “I’m going to take all your needy holes. You secretly want it. Admit it.”
“You want me to take away your choices and fuck you like you’re nothing but my own little fuck toy. Admit it.”
I grip her tit and pinch her nipple, thrusting my hips against her, teasing her clit with my dick. She lets out a needy moan.
My mouth finds her neck, and I nip at the skin. As I suck her flesh into my mouth, a siren blares as an emergency vehicle passes her house. Her body tenses. I rub against her clit again when she suddenly jerks her hands free from my grip and screams at the top of her lungs.
I stumble back, tripping over her discarded towel and end up yanking the shower curtain down. Her sob is loud and fucking terrified. Quickly, I stand back up, put my dick back in my pants, then feel my way over to the light switch. As soon as we’re bathed in the yellow glow, I run my eyes over her quivering frame, assessing her wellbeing without touching her.
“Quinn, sweetheart, it’s me. Joshua. Your friend. Are you okay?” My voice is soft. Calming. Gentle. “Look at me, baby.”
She snaps out of her daze, her watery green eyes finding mine. Her face crumples incredibly more as she reaches for me. Of course I go to her. Carefully, I wrap my arms around her shaking, naked body and kiss the top of her head.
“Talk to me,” I urge.
“I…I…” she sobs again, “I’m just so tired.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” I scoop her into my arms and carry her out of the bathroom into her dark bedroom. She clings to me, even when I set her on her feet at the end of her bed. I help her dress in her pajamas, then guide her into her bed.
“Stay. Joshua, please.” Then she’s whispers, “But leave the light on.”
We crawl into bed, and I curl around her trembling body, spooning her from behind. It’s one of her hard limits, but she urged this position and hasn’t told me no.
“You don’t have to be afraid with me.”
She nods. “I know. Thank you.”
Being thrown into the past by something as simple as a siren and the blue flashing lights makes me feel like a failure. Like all these years, gaining back my power was for nothing. I know it was a combination of things. Being naked in the dark with Joshua in his role-play mood. The two worlds colliding at that moment broke me. I hate that I have triggers I haven’t overcome yet. I’ve always felt ashamed of my sexual needs. The fantasies that run rampant in my mind before the attack ever happened only made me feel like I was to blame when it did happen, like somehow I asked for that. It took years of therapy to learn it’s normal to have fantasies and what I dream about is utterly different from what happened to me. He took so much from me the night he betrayed his badge, deceiving a girl who should have been able to trust him. I shouldn’t feel ashamed of a fantasy that was there long before he raped me.
I felt like I was finally creeping out of the dark into the light with Joshua, gaining ownership of my sexuality, preference, and needs. He may never want to touch me again after this. Him holding me was something I never knew I needed—craved. To feel completely protected in his warm embrace not only fractured the remaining pieces of my soul, but knitted them back together again. He could have ignored my safe word, taken what he came for, but he didn’t. He’s not that pervert. Joshua is good, honest, kind and caring. I’ve wasted so much time trying to overcome something that happened to me, it’s consumed me.