Transmitted

File 4

She woke up disorientated. Was she still in the doctor's office? It was dark, had the sun set already? She sat up - or tried to. Something was restraining her arms and legs. Odd. She twisted her head to look down at her wrists; they were strapped down to the examination bed with belts. An icy sensation of fear crept down her spine. Why was she strapped in? She tried to look at the room more closely, she couldn't see all the way around it but it looked like the doctor's office. There wasn't anything particularly sinister in there. Sinister? Why was she looking for something sinister? Perhaps she was strapped in to stop her falling off? Aradia reasoned with herself. But some part of her was resonating with alarm. Something wasn't right. How long had she been unconscious? There should be a clock somewhere on the wall, right? Doctor's rooms always had clocks... 

There - a clock, but it was wrong, it had to be. Aradia squinted at it. 10pm? No, she couldn't have been out that long... They'd have taken her to hospital if she had. She tugged at her wrists, trying to pull them out of the restraints. No joy. She felt panic rising. She wasn't normally phobic about being restrained. She was used to sitting in a tiny cubicle at work, barely moving except to get lunch or go to the loo... But that was work, it was voluntary confinement.... This had been done against her will. She wrenched herself side to side, trying to loosen the bindings. Perhaps if she struggled they'd give in eventually. After five minutes she stopped, exhausted. The belts restraining her were as tight as they had been when she woke up. All she had succeeded in doing was bloodying her wrists. Not that she could see them... But the smell was already turning her stomach. Oh god. If she threw up lying on her back like this wouldn't she choke? The thought was enough to make her blood run cold. Would she die here? Why was she here? Where was the doctor? Her thoughts churned like her stomach. There were no answers forthcoming. With her body forced into inaction, her mind raced. Perhaps this was some strange kind of test... Could it be a sleep study? She couldn't remember if she'd told the doctor about the dreams or not... But it couldn't be could it? They'd need consent to do something like that surely? What if this was some weird, illegal experiment then? Maybe they were going to test experimental drugs on her illegally? She couldn't think why they'd do that though... Illegal drugs didn't require clinical trials... She dismissed other options too - black market organ harvesting seemed far too unlikely for a developed country and a licensed GP to participate in. Similarly she couldn't see the sensible, straight laced doctor being a member of a satanic cult that performed human sacrifices either. Out of options, her mind began to wander to other subjects instead. Escaping her terrifying reality to preserve her sanity.  

She recalled that night again. The night that had started this whole thing...

"This is my house." she'd told him, smiling and rolling her eyes self deprecatingly "I know it's pretty shabby but it's home." looking at the house from someone else's perspective now that she had company she wanted to impress, was rather depressing. The exterior paint was chipped and peeling, the door was warped with damp and age, and the wobbly, Victorian glass windows were dusty. She sighed. Perhaps if she'd known someone so sexy would be viewing her house she'd have cleaned and maintained it better.  

"It's perfect; full of character." he'd said with a sexy smile. Oh god. Not only was he gorgeous but he was charming too. 

"Would you like to come in for coffee?" she'd asked him hopefully "I mean... As a thank you for helping me out back there..." she'd stuttered, losing her nerve. She could barely look him in the eye. Of course he wouldn't want to come in... They both knew what coming inside for "coffee" implied... Why would such an Adonis want to come into her shabby little house? With shabby little her? Of course he'd say no... 

"Yes, I'd love to." he beamed down at her, seemingly pleased she'd asked. Aradia fought not to gape in astonishment. He'd said yes... Why would he say yes..? Perhaps he was just being polite? Perhaps he really only wanted a coffee? She didn't know but she thanked whatever angel had been smiling on her at that moment and let them both in. He'd followed her up the creaky old wooden staircase to her kitchen, and managed to keep surprisingly quiet for such a large man. Aradia had been eternally grateful for that. Hetti, her roommate and best friend, should be asleep at this hour and God knew Aradia hadn't wanted her to wake up and find out just how hypocritical Aradia was being at that very moment. It was always Aradia complaining about Hetti's one night flings, and vague relationships with men. If Hetti had seen her taking a complete stranger to her bed she'd not only have been righteously indignant but she'd have delighted in telling everyone just what a hypocrite Aradia was, and how easily her values had crumbled when faced with an interested hottie.

The thought of how humiliating that would have been made Aradia's face heat up. And the memories of just how sexperienced the stranger had been did nothing to dispel that heat. Aradia hadn't even brewed the coffee before he'd kissed her; a long, lingering kiss that didn't satisfy but only made her ache for more. After a kiss like that it was hard to think, let alone talk. She hadn't been able to ask him if he wanted that coffee after all, she'd simple melted in a puddle at his feet and somehow a few heartbeats later she'd found herself in her bed, naked, with his hands all over her. He'd pushed all the right buttons, and before he'd even entered her she'd climaxed twice. Before that night, sex like this was something Aradia had thought didn't exist except in trashy romance novels. She'd been so thoroughly satisfied that she honestly thought he'd ruined her for any other man; how could anyone compare after that? She'd wondered only half jokingly if he was actually a god of sex.

The only flaw in his performance that night had been his neglect to use contraception. Although at the time she hadn't noticed - being too deep in the throes of passion to even see straight let alone check whether he was suitably attired - later, after he'd gone, she'd checked the waste bins in her home, and not one of them had contained the now conspicuous-by-its-absence item. Of course, he could have taken the used article with him... But how likely was that? Why would he have, anyway? Some weird sense of propriety? Some odd fetish that he had? Surely not to hide it from her housemate; he couldn't have known that Aradia would have thrown the bins out before Hetti woke up out of sheer paranoia about being found out sleeping around... 

But aside from that... He'd hugged her afterwards... Held her tenderly, like she might break. He hadn't pulled away to remove a condom. She'd stayed awake for a long time too... Long after he'd fallen asleep. She hadn't moved from his embrace like she would have done had it been her ex's stifling arms and unbearable snoring. Her perfect stranger's embrace didn't feel stifling... She'd felt... Comfortable, safe... She'd felt right in his arms. So for the longest time she'd stayed awake, enjoying the sensation, and wondering why it was that she felt this way, about a man she'd probably never see again. Because she'd known, somewhere deep down, that he'd be gone in the morning, as much as she'd wanted to hope that he'd have breakfast with her, chat to her, tell her about himself... It hadn't been meant to be, she knew, it was just a one night deal. Of course it was. A god like that didn't get trapped by such an inexperienced, plain girl as Aradia. 

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