PTSD

Chapter III: The Damned Date

The doorbell rings, and I wheel to answer it. Richard looks stunningly handsome. I shamefully look down at my cum-and-blood-stained dressed. This was the least soiled article of clothing I own. Richard carefully lifts my chin and smiles at me, "You look beautiful, Sarah. Don't worry." he attempts to kiss me, but I hastily pull away.

Even kissing is triggering for me. Granted, it is just when men kiss me, but still.

Richard apologizes sincerely and pushes me to his car. He gingerly lifts me into the black and red leather passenger seat. My boss, then, puts my chair in the trunk. Smiling and humming, he starts the royal-navy blue convertible. On the radio is my favorite singer, playing my favorite song: Just Like A Pill, by P!nk. Richard flashes a kind grin at me, turning the song louder, reaching the perfect volume. We take off, heading into downtown.

"I know movies are difficult for you, but I think you're going to like this one," he comments, wheeling me into the movie theatre.

"Mr. Richard, you really donー" I start.

"Yes, Sarah, I do. You deserve better." he smiles, "Also, call me Mick from now on, ok?"

"Yes, sir," I say submissively.

Knowing he will trigger me severely if he continues, my date sighs and holds my hand gently.

We head into the theater of which the movie is still unknown to me. To my surprise, the room is completely empty on one side, but completely packed on the other side. I look down at the floor of the empty half. Semen and blood cover it... I gently tug on my date's jacket, asking to leave. He stands still, ignoring my increasingly panicked pleas. 50 Shades of Gray starts, and I cry. I reach into my bag to call Kelsey, but Richard snatches the phone away from me and hangs up. I try wheeling towards the door, but he carelessly and effortlessly pulls me back. I'm trapped. My breathing gets ragged. I think about screaming for help, but decide against it out of fear of what Richard might do to me. My boss reaches across me and lovingly caresses my right breast.  I cringe heavily. Why, God, why? I think, as he continues his tender assault, I don't want this, I don't want this, I don't want this, I don't want this!

As if realizing the torture he was putting me through, Mick suddenly lets go, but he remains silent; no sign of remorse in his handsome face. I consider booking it out of there and risk hitchhiking home but soon shake the thought out of my head. That would be even worse. Not for me but for my wife.

Soon my employer starts groping me again, my crotch, this time, and he's not nearly as carefull. In fact, he was really hurting me as he violently fists me. I yelled for someone to save me, but no one heard... my punishment was him inserting both fists into me.

"If you dare quit after this or tell the police, I swear, I will use my entire body to rape you. I will literally live inside of you, and, every chance I get, I will make it hurt. You think having hundreds of men use your worthless cunt at the same time hurts?! You're pathetic. I have trillions of friends who'd love to fuck your immortal ass 'til you die. And they are massive! The smallest one is over 9 feet long!" Richard hisses, grabbing me by the front of my dress. Then, he casually goes back to roughly double fisting my abused vagina.

"Please... sir... stop..." I moan in pain.

He maneuvers himself so he could also fuck me with his entire right foot, up to the middle of his knee. "Say one more thing besides 'yes, master', I dare you!" he glares at me, pistoning his limbs in and out of my private part.  

I can't help but scream in pain. This gets his other leg forced inside. Each noise I make is countered with two more inches being sunk into me. Eventually, he is up to his hips. Then his chest. Neck. All the way in. I weep loudly, until, finally, a younger lady-around 25-asks me what's happening, if I need help. She was unbelievably attractive, I now realize. However, at the time, I just nod breathlessly, pleading with my eyes for a savior.

She dutifully kneels down and looks into me. She stands up and yells, "Everyone, evacuate the area! I am a policewoman!" Then, she whispers to me: "I know what you're going through, ma'am. Trust me―" she cringes―"I know... anyway, I see the... issue. I have an ambulance that will be here any second. This may hurt..." my new hero shoots something into my vagina. I don't feel any physical pain, but I do feel my boss's corpse slide out of me. Suddenly, I am overtaken by a tsunami of guilt. I feel nauseous and faint...