Here's the normal disclaimer that all participants who engage in any sort of sexual activity are over 18 when it occurs. Everything portrayed in this story only exists in my imagination.
This is a continuation of my 'Small Town' saga. This can be read as a stand-alone story, but reading the earlier chapters will give you a fuller understanding of the characters and their motivations. As seems to be my style, this is another slow build story. If you are looking for instant sex, there's plenty to find elsewhere on Literotica. If you are willing to invest the time, you'll find romance, sex and, what I hope is an engaging storyline, with compelling characters.
My gratitude and thanks to my anonymous friend for the editing and perceptive suggestions. Any and all errors are mine and mine alone.
This is my work and I maintain all international rights. No republishing anywhere without the express written permission from the author.
Get comfortable, settle in with a beer, some wine, a cup of tea or coffee, and enjoy!
Guy
***
Saturday Evening, Sept. 22, 2018
Shiloh
After dinner, we were sitting in the living room when Erik asked if we could date. For some inexplicable reason, I trusted Erik, and, after an internal struggle, I revealed my rape history and lifted my dress to show my scars. Only my therapist, Dr. Kate, and my employee/housemate, Chris knew my history and had seen my scars.
"Shiloh, they're much worse in your mind than in reality. I don't think they're ugly, certainly not deforming."
"That's what Dr. Kate keeps saying. It's easy for you to dismiss them. You don't have to see this in the mirror every morning."
With that, Erik crossed the room, dropped his pants, revealing his left leg was amputated below the knee, with multiple scars everywhere on his legs. I rushed over and hugged him, instantly regretting my last statement. Erik pulled up his pants and we moved over to sit on the couch.
"IED's are notorious for inflicting lower body damage. You saw my left leg. I also lost my left testicle and have some upper body scars. When I returned Stateside, my mental health and self-esteem was at its nadir. I'm from Ohio, but couldn't face the looks and the pity I expected from family and friends. I managed to get on a Greyhound and ended up here. I had no plan, but, luckily, I ran into Michael, the bride's father from this morning's wedding.
He practically kidnapped me to get me to Dr. Kate's. Very early on, she set me up with a Prosthetist and the White River Junction V.A. Hospital. She even drove me to my first appointment. You can see the ultimate results. I can move almost naturally and most people don't realize I wear a prosthesis.
"I had no idea. And I'm sorry about my 'mirror' comment."
"No reason to be sorry. I'm not going to equate your rape to my encounter with an IED. I was in a war. Shit happens. You were violated by someone you knew and trusted. I can't imagine how that felt, how you are dealing with that. This I do know: we're both traveling the same road, the road to recovery, whatever that means, with the same guide, Dr. Kate. The only difference is I started sooner and therefore am farther along.
"Dr Kate is a wonderful therapist. During our sessions, she had discovered my love of music. I have no musical abilities, but have always loved to hear it. She also learned that I acted in several high school theatrical performances, and was comfortable performing in front of people. She put those two interests together and suggested I might look into becoming a DJ. The rest, as the saying goes, is history.
"I love DJing. I'm comfortable in my life right now. And I've recently met a wonderful, talented, smart, brave, beautiful woman. Who, incidentally, still hasn't answered my question, Shiloh, are you interested in dating me?"
"I want so much to say yes, but I'm still afraid. Not of you, but... oh this is so hard..."
"Believe me, if anybody can understand, it's me. Please, may we leave it for now that you'll at least consider it?"
"No. I've already considered it. I...I...I want to. Yes."
"I know this is a big decision for you, a big step out of your comfort zone. Why don't we do this: I'll let you think about it for a couple of days and then we can talk. My personal experience was to take the big steps slowly and carefully."
"I'd like to talk to Dr. Kate. I see her Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe you could call Wednesday evening?"
"Why don't you call me? That way I can be assured that you're ready and not feeling pressured."
"Okay. Erik, I'd like to ask Dr. Kate about.... us. May I tell her that I've seen your scars; and the rather unique way you showed them to me."
He laughed, which triggered my own laughter.
"Sure, tell her everything. Now I should probably get going."
'But I want you to stay... I think.'
We stood up and hugged. Erik gave me a short kiss to my forehead and left.
Tuesday, Sept. 25
Shiloh
"So that's how Erik showed me his scars. Someone with worse scars than me."
"Not worse Shiloh, different."
"I like him, Dr. Kate. For some reason I trust him. Can I trust him?"
"You know I can't discuss another patient with you."
"Can I trust myself? With him? Can I start a normal relationship with him?"
"Shiloh, take a minute to take stock of where you are right now. Listen to the questions you just asked me. You're not the frightened, bitter rape victim that Chris dropped off here earlier this summer. Consider the progress you've made. You wouldn't have asked me these questions a couple of months ago."
"I don't want to get hurt."
"Life is not always smooth. Whether with Erik or someone else, there's always going to be ups and downs, challenges you didn't expect, even disappointments. Hopefully you will never again experience anything as traumatic as your rape. You're a strong, smart woman. Focus on, and remember, the good things that happen to you."
"The couple of times Erik hugged me just felt so good. I felt safe."
"That, Shiloh, is how it's supposed to feel. Despite your experience, there are many more decent males in the world than evil men like Dick Semen. I suggest you look at your interactions with Erik, evaluate them, evaluate him and come to your own conclusion. You'll see that the right answer will come to you.
"Take your time to let a relationship develop, no matter who it's with. Understand there is no such thing as a 'perfect' relationship. The ones that work best are where both parties have similar values and expectations and talk openly and honestly with each other. The momentary discomfort of addressing difficult subjects is always ultimately better than letting problems or feelings fester and dealing with the aftermath down the road.
"I don't think it's a breach of patient confidentiality to tell you that Erik is a decent person. You've already engaged in a very difficult conversation about each other's past. I can't tell you what's the right thing for you to do.
"Again, whether it's with Erik or someone else, take your time to be comfortable with the pace of the developing relationship. Life is not a linear event. Everyone experiences euphoria at times, turmoil at others with the in between times wavering between happiness and small aggravations. I know it's a trite expression, but 'Don't sweat the small things' is actually a pretty good philosophy.
"My advice is to spend some time contemplating where you want this to go and why. You'll make the right choice."
***
Evening
After dinner and with Sierra asleep in bed, I settled into the couch with a cup of green tea to quietly reflect on where my life was going.
'Dr. Kate had given me much to consider. She never tells me outright what to do, but rather guides me to asking the questions that need answers, and lets me find them myself. Looking back on the past few months, I could see the progress I had made.
'For too long, I had wrapped the cloak of rape victimhood closely around me, tethering me to my rapist's cruelty. I had slowly come to realize this was detrimental to my psyche, and not all men were like Dick Semen. I had rejected Derrick out of hand and he turned out to be a very special man. There are plenty of decent men around. I just had to take off my blinders to see them, to allow myself the freedom to enjoy life again.
'Envisioning Erik dealing so well with life after his injuries, I had an epiphany. If he was able to be set free, so can I. He overcame what happened to him, which, objectively, must have been much worse physical pain, over a much longer time, than I had endured. Psychologically, our pain was apples and oranges, not comparable, but he seemingly has surmounted that also. His victory, his freedom has given me the inspiration and courage to do the same. Besides, he just seems like a decent guy; someone I feel I can trust and be with.
'At one of our first therapy sessions, Dr. Kate suggested therapy was like a back road, winding its way to a destination. Sometimes you get caught in a snow storm, and progress seems to slow, but you continue on. Sometimes, there are detours you need to take to get back headed for your destination. Sometimes you head down a side road that dead ends and you need to retrace your steps to get back on the road to your destination. But sometimes, you see on onramp to the Interstate highway, you take it, and arrive much sooner than you might think possible.
'I think I'm ready to leave Dick Semen locked up in the past, ready to embrace a future without hiding in long hippie dresses, ready to try to establish a relationship with a special man. Could Erik be that man? Has Kate helped me find the key to get on the Interstate and leave my old problems behind?'
As I started to feel sleepy, I headed for bed, but also felt exhilarated. For the first time in years, I felt some hope, maybe even excitement, for my future.
I slipped into my bed but found sleep elusive. I found myself rehashing the same thoughts from earlier this evening and recognized that I had committed to at least trying to date Erik. But that raised the specter of eventually having sex again, not on the first date, but at some point, I'd have to confront that possibility, after denying my sexuality for years.
My thoughts turned to what I had been missing for the last few years. Looking back at the few sexual experiences I had in college, they were probably typical of the inexperienced: some fumbling and awkwardness, didn't result in the mid-blowing orgasms that you read about, but still felt good, leaving me to want more. I liked how they made me feel.
In another flash of comprehension, I realized that rape is not sex, rather Dickhead used his strength and penis as a weapon to attack me, to consummate some alcohol induced fantasy he had concocted. It was nothing like what I had previously experienced. But he was now locked up and I had locked him out of my mind. Mostly.
I had enjoyed sex before; I can let myself enjoy it again with the right person. Unconsciously, my hand moved up to caress my breast, I felt my nipple respond, sending a warm feeling through me. I slid my hand down my stomach, through my hair. I was surprised that my lips were so wet, that they were separated slightly. I inserted a finger a little, slipped it up and down, scooped up some moisture and spread it on my hood and clitoris, stroking it lightly.
I started to feel tingly, began squirming a little, maybe a tiny orgasm, but enough so I drifted off to sleep.
Wednesday, Sept 26.
