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Have you ever heard the expression "It's raining men?"

Here I was, 19 years old, fresh out of a cult and already the swarm of men came to pick at the carcass.

There was this guy, he was 38 years old. He had dirty blond hair and crystal blue eyes. he was a bulkier kind of guy but I wouldn't call him fat. He wore baggy clothes that didn't flatter his large build. Let's call him Stalker. I think that fits. When I first met Stalker it was at the Gap.

He came in to buy some clothes and I helped him pick some stuff out. I was good at my job because I used all of the skills that I learned from the cult and my retail jobs, it helped me to get promoted so I am not complaining.

Stalker started coming into the store almost daily looking at items and asking for my help. He quickly graduated from pretending he needed all of those clothes to try to convince me that I should date him.

His efforts were in vain because I wasn't interested in older men. I wasn't interested in him. I just wasn't interested. He didn't see it that way. His pursuits got more aggressive until I found myself afraid. In his mind, I had to want him because I was nice to him. I'm sure you've experienced that before.

One night, I was leaving work after my shift and there he was, standing on the sidewalk, waiting for me. My heart skipped a beat but not in a good way.

The sun hadn't risen yet. He saw me and his eyes flashed. I recognized that look...lust. I looked around me, there was no one. I went to turn around and head back inside but he moved quickly and called to me.

"Wait," he said in a commanding voice.

I hated myself for stopping. The fear overwhelming my better senses. I couldn't move. He was on me, his arms wrapped around my waist as he lifted me and brought me to where he had once been standing. He set me down against the rail and kept one arm on my waist and the other on the rail. I had nowhere to run. Trapped.

"What are you doing here?" I said trying to sound brave but the tremble in my voice gave away my fear.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, I just wanted to see you," he said in a coolly.

I hated his voice. I was averting my gaze and he caught it. He took his free hand and lifted my chin so that he was looking down at me and I was staring up at him.

"I said...you don't have to be afraid of me." Liar.

I was trembling now. He noticed and held me tighter.

"You're cold. Here, come closer, let me keep you warm." His hold on me grew stronger.

His eyes filled with fire. I found myself irrevocably afraid. Where was the brave Catherine that I had cultivated for all of these years? Where was she when I need her bravery? She hides like a coward behind her fear. I'm at a loss for words and my brain stopped working. What should I do? The answers wouldn't come.

"I've missed you," he whispered into my ear as he nipped at my ear with his teeth.

"I wasn't expecting you here" was all I could get out.

I didn't know what to say or what to do, there was still no one around. If he wanted to, he could...I needed to pull myself together and find a way out of this mess.

"I thought you would be happy to see me?" he said, his smile started to fade.

I knew that this would end poorly for me if I wasn't careful. I had to be careful.

"I'm happy, it's just, I'm tired, I'm cold, I wasn't expecting you, and I'd like to go home now." I thought that I had covered all of my bases.

Surely, he would let me go. He will see how his behavior was impacting me, right? Nope. His grip on me got tighter to the point of pain.

"If you are tired and cold, I could drive you back to my place and warm you up." with those words he leans over and plants a gentle kiss on my lips.

I'm still frozen. I don't move. He takes my lack of movement as acceptance and deepens the kiss.

In my terror my thoughts bring me back in time. I'm back in the room at the end of the hall...with Him. My hands are carefully wrapped around his appendage.

I don't have any feelings about this act but there is a feeling building inside of me. Fear. His soothing voice racks against the inside of my soul and all I can feel is this deep penetrating fear. Why am I afraid? What is happening? Is what I am doing right or wrong?

His smile, his eyes, like a predator about to catch his prey.

"Yes," he moans.

"Stroke it!" He commands.

His release is fast. I don't understand it. Stickiness on my small fingers.

"Taste it," he speaks leaving little room for argument.

Fear. Why do I feel this right now? I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe....right? I remove my hands from him, his arm snakes around my waist pulling me closer toward him.

Closer, so close I am almost sitting on his lap. His lap. His hand is holding me by my waist. I can't move. His hand that is holding me by the waist is rising. Fear. Why do I feel this right now? I'm safe. I'm safe.

"Go ahead child...taste it." he lifts my pointer finger to my mouth and he places my finger inside. Salty. Fear. Salty. Fear. What's happening?...

...Stalkers tongue enters my mouth and I am brought back to the present. This old man has his tongue down my throat and I am powerless against him. Familiar.

If I am not careful, he is going to take everything from me. He pulls away

"See...I knew you liked me." he is smiling now.

Victorious. I am praying for someone, anyone to come by so that I can make my escape but no one comes. My thoughts raged: Decide your fate, Catherine. Will you allow him to take from you as those who came before? Will you allow yourself to be a victim? What you do now will determine your future. Decide.

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