[I posted this on Reddit initially. I figured Tumblr would enjoy it as well.]
“Dr Raj will see you now.”
The smooth, pleasant voice of the receptionist put a stop to Lucy’s descent into that realm of dark thoughts. She looked up to see her warm, polite smile. Her fake smile. Doubtless, this innocent-looking secretary knew exactly what Dr Raj was making her feel. And yet she did nothing to stop it.
“Thank you,” Lucy said, slowly getting up, shuffling towards the office, her breath losing its evenness with each small step. By the time she’d made her way to the door, her breath was ragged in anticipation of what lay beyond. Turning her head back, she saw the receptionist’s face plastered with the same polite, unfeeling smile back at her. She entered the office.
The office was small. Very small. A desk, a chair, and a sofa large enough to fit two people, barely. There were no windows here, the only light being a single unshaded bulb casting a flickering warmth into the room. Neither walls nor the desk were particularly decorated, dull and neutral. The room was hot, almost like a sauna, and in the background, a low buzzing sound could be heard. This was closer to a closet than a room. Moreso a torture chamber than a therapist’s office.
And sat upon that chair was the man she’d been dreading to meet. Dr Raj. He was ageless and plain-faced, not a person that would be easily noticed. He seemed unconcerned by the heat and claustrophobic room, beckoning her to sit down on the sofa.
She sunk into the sofa, her heart thumping.
“Hello, Lucy, how have you been?” Dr Raj smiled broadly, as if last week had been a dream. A nightmare. He always did this. He’d start with a flawless sense of professionalism and charisma that’d ease you in, and tempt you into lowering your guard. And then when the moment came, he’d turn on you. Tear at those insecurities you’d exposed to him. She endured the small talk, drawing out each answer, knowing how futile it all was. The moment came.
“Now, shall we get started?” Dr Raj asked, his smile never faltering. Sensing her hesitation, he squinted. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”
Lucy panicked. All thoughts of pushing back, resisting, fleeing her. “W-well, it’s just that… Do we have to do it like this? Telling you every detail of… everything.” Even she could tell how much her voice trembled. She couldn’t help it. Fear and anxiety gnawed at her.
Dr Raj peered at her over the rim of his glasses. Perhaps it was her imagination but a streak of annoyance flashed across his face. And then his face relaxed into one a little more comforting. Relaxing. Kind. Gentle. “Lucy, we’ve spoken about this, haven’t we? You need to get this out of your system. You need to be brave again, for me.”
Lucy nodded, knowing if she spoke, they’d both know how terrified she was. Dr Raj smiled his pleasant smile at her. “Now I believe you were going to tell me what happened after your evening at the nightclub.”
Lucy’s gut sank as she recalled that dreadful night. The heat of the room felt heavy on her as her breath faltered slightly. Dr Raj sat patiently, his smile unceasing. “Right… I left the club at around midnight. My house is about fifteen minutes away, so I thought it would be fine. There’s this dark alleyway near the club which cuts off about five minutes, so I thought I’d be fine taking that but-... But…”
The humiliation rushed back to her. The memory of it all. The masked man appearing from the shadows pinning her down and clamping a sweaty hand over her mouth. The nasty words that had been whispered furiously into her ears, the-.
She sensed the therapist get out of his chair and sit next to her. There wasn’t nearly enough room for the both of them, so their legs were pressed against each other’s. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, patting her worries away. She hated it.
“There, there, Lucy. What happened next?” Dr Raj’s voice cut off her thoughts. His voice was smooth and even, contrasting the low, constant buzz of the heater or generator or whatever it was. Lucy collected herself, pausing for a minute to regain her voice.
“But then a man appeared. I thought he’d just walk past me. He didn’t. I didn’t realise what was happening until there was a hand on my throat and another on my mouth. I couldn’t even scream.” Lucy could feel his hand patting away at her shoulder, almost rhythmically.
Her fists were balled up, her body tense. That night was the worst she’d felt in her entire life. The way some man had stolen her dignity from her. Ripped it away from her, as if she truly deserved no happiness to begin with. She’d never wish it upon her worst enemy… So then why was she so aware of Dr Raj right now? Every pat gave her a jolt of some unfamiliar, tingling energy… And she didn’t know what to do with that.
“He must have noticed how pretty you are. What were you wearing?”
He’d called her pretty… She felt so dirty, so alone, so utterly stained, yet here a man was calling her pretty! Some small part of her knew that he was a pig underneath that insincere smile. A monster that thrived off her suffering. But she chose to ignore it. Because it felt better this way. “I was wearing a crop top and a miniskirt,” she mumbled.
“You were wearing such provocative clothes. I know this might upset you, but did you consider you dressed like that to attract a man’s attention?”
Lucy could hear her heart beat louder and faster. Was this her fault? If she’d worn something less revealing, would she have been left unscathed? She didn’t want to be raped. Nobody did. Right?
“But perhaps it wasn’t the way you dressed. Could you show me how short they were?”
Lucy looked at him, confused. How was she to show him how short they were? And then she felt it. She looked down and saw his hand press against her thighs. She froze, unable to breathe for a moment. She could feel her eyes water up, as she looked down at his warm hand. His fingers were wrapped tightly around her thighs, his thumb almost caressing her. In the background she could hear him coaxing her, telling her to breathe.
When she finally managed to draw in a jagged breath, he looked at her, his warm smile ignoring the tears in her eyes, the heat of the room, and the constant, fucking buzzing. The room was far too small. There was hardly any room for a single person in this closet, let alone two. And yet she didn’t take his hand off her. She didn’t even resist it.
“Was it shorter than this?” Dr Raj asked. Lucy nodded her head, her eyes closed to hold back the tears. Why was it always her? Could they sense how weak she was? How frail and vulnerable she was? How easy to manipulate she was? She felt his hand draw further up her thigh, the tips of his fingers getting precariously closer to her groin. To her hot, wet pussy.
Lucy nodded. The patting stopped. She felt his arm wrap itself around her waist, his wandering hand making its way to her midriff, just underneath her chest. She shuddered. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop this. Her body was putty in his hands, soft and relaxed on the comfortable sofa. She hated this so much. She hated Dr Raj, her rapist, and especially herself, she could almost throw up. So why was her needy cunt so fucking wet?
He knew exactly what he was doing when he asked her the same question about her crop top, his hand eventually grazing her boobs. There she was, sat in some stranger’s office with his hands all over her. She’d let this happen again. She truly was pathetic. Perhaps, this was always meant to be.
Dr Raj’s voice came in whispers, soft and teasing. “And then what happened? Did he touch you? Drive his penis into your vagina?”
Lucy couldn’t suppress the tears any longer. She nodded. “He called me an attention-seeking whore. A dumb rapeslut that was going to get what she deserved. I felt a hand under my top, fondling my chest… My tits… And then something pressed against my pussy.”
Before she knew it, she was inching her way into his hands, her desperate cunt craving for the touch of a man that wasn’t disgusted with her. It was hard to care about her dignity anymore. Hadn’t it been raped away that night anyway?
“Oh? Did he touch you like this?” His hand rose from her midriff, and with practised ease, slipped under her top, sliding directly onto her tits. “You’ve not worn a bra. Perhaps you really are an attention-seeking cockslut.”
Lucy’s body wracked with silent, heavy sobs, as she looked down at his groping, lecherous hand under her top, violating her as she’d been violated that night. His hand was hot on her skin. Her head spun, light-hearted from his touch. She looked up at him. His kind smile had never left his face. This was the face of the devil himself. She nodded her head.
“He… Didn’t last long. I can’t remember it. Not really. Just a few thrusts… and it was over.”
But it was enough to make her question her own humanity. She felt his hand slide up her thigh and slip under her jeans. She couldn’t hold back her moan as his fingers met her aching cunt. A hole, she now knew, was made for dick. She heard his voice again.
“But that’s all that mattered, isn’t it? That he came in the end. It doesn’t matter how short it was. All that mattered is that he was satisfied and drained.”
She sobbed and nodded. Again. She couldn’t deny this man. Even if she hated him.
His throbbing tent was hard to miss.
She didn’t struggle or argue or resist. This is the best she could hope for. At least he was telling her what he wanted her to do. Her trembling hand reached his zipper, slowly pulling it down before fishing his thick, brown cock out. Like his hands, it felt so warm, so alive in her hand. She hated it. She wanted to yank it off and eat it. She wanted this to end.
“Jerk it, you little rapetoy. We both know you need this.”
She wanted this to end. But she stroked his dick anyway. Some twisted satisfaction rose within her as he groped and molested her body. As she let her hand slide up and down his erect cock.
“Faster, you whore. You should always strive to help a man cum. Grip my cock and fucking jerk me off like the nasty slut I know you really are.” She could no longer cry. Perhaps she’d run out of tears. Perhaps she didn’t care. Perhaps she couldn’t care anymore. They sat there for a few minutes, silently fingering and stroking each other. Acting as lovers, when in reality there was only a monster and its prey.
She could hardly feel his fingers, the blood rushing from her head. She could only focus on his twitching cock. The warmth between her fingers. Her painfully hot body. And then with a slight groan, thick, warm cum spilled out from his cock, coating her fingers. She sat there, his dick in his hands still. Her eyes were probably vacant. Lucy was no longer there, not really. Only the empty shell of a human being remained. Only a piece of meat made for rape and abuse remained.
She felt him push her hand to her mouth, telling her to clean it up. She complied. He tasted salty. Disgusting. Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered.
“You can pay at the reception. I’ll see you next week.”
And he’d destroyed her without losing that sickly smile.
