A Casual Encounter

You walk me, still naked, to the shower and turn on the warm water. I can feel Khaled's sperm dripping down my thigh, cooling when the air touches it. I reek of him, and of sex.

You strip down and climb into the tub with me. It's my first chance to really look at you - the last time we met you were mostly clothed - and I take in as much as I can before you order me to face the wall. You gently wash my hair with Khaled's drugstore shampoo .

"Rinse."

"Now turn."

I'm facing you. I want to look more at your body but you back me up against the shower wall and your hand closes gently over my throat as you hold my head in place. The other reaches down between my legs and you shove two wet fingers inside me and clean out my pussy, rinsing Khaled away.

"I have a lot of kinks," you say.

"Really, you think?"

This gets an amused smile as he shoves a third finger inside me, and then a fourth. "Fair. But by far my favorite is a woman who has been fucked full of other men."

Your hand is against my throat, gently, but still telling me who is in charge as your whole hand fucks me, pressing hard against my g-spot and stretching me open.

"Once you submitted to me, it was so easy to get you to fuck him. You would have fucked a whole line of men. A whole crowd of strangers."

"You had my purse, my phone, my keys, there were two of you. I just wanted to be safe."

"You wanted to be fucked. It was bigger than you. It's a headspace you cross into. Once you fucked Khaled in front of me, and me in front of him, you would have fucked literally anyone I told you to."

To prove my point he moves his fingers faster. I'm sore, exhausted, my legs can barely hold me up, but I come again, all over his hand.

"Rinse off and dry off."

In the bedroom, there is no sign of my phone, purse, wallet, keys, or anything that would help me get out of here and get home. The pile of my clothes is missing. I use the brush on the nightstand to detangle my hair and find a t-shirt of Khaled's in a drawer to throw on. His folded note is still on the bed. "I am sorry, beautiful one. I will remember. -K."

I sit on the bed and drink the tea that's cooling on the nightstand and wait.

When you come back, you're not alone. In tow is one of the ugliest men I've ever seen, bulky and short, with leathery skin and a face full of scars. He's dressed like a construction worker in rough clothes and heavy boots.

"What is this?" I jump up from the bed.

"Marco, give me a minute with our friend here." You shut the door and then you tell me your plan for the day.

"I've sold you."

"To Marco?"

"Yes, among others."

"Define 'sold.' Wait, don't. Why are we discussing this? I want to go home."

Quick as lightning you put a hand over my mouth as you you take the hairbrush out of my hand and smack me with it, twice on each breast and once between the legs.

"You are going home when I say you can go home."

"This is rape."

"This is rape. Men are going to rape you, serially, and in groups, all day long. I am going to watch them, and in some cases, participate."

"Where's Khaled. I want Khaled."

"Khaled called me. Khaled sold you to me."

"He didn't."

"No, actually, he didn't. I called him today because I wanted to have some fun, and he refused. I had to show up here to get the story out of him. He's out there driving a cab today because if he doesn't, I'll have him deported."

"He'll call the police."

"Lady, I am the police."

You show me a badge. FBI.

I'm shaking.

You take a packet of pills out of your pocket and show them to me.

"Listen, this is enough rohypnol to zonk you out for the rest of the day. If you want to, you can be oblivious to this and make sure it doesn't hurt. Or we could give you just a little bit, you might even think it's fun."

It's a tempting offer, and I think about it. What can it hurt if I don't remember?

"It's what pimps do when they are turning out new girls, the young girls, the ones who don't want to do the work. A little bit to loosen them up, make it easier on them."

"And I won't remember?"

"Oh, you'll remember on way or another. If you take the drugs I'm going to film every minute. If you don't, I'll let your memory be the recording device. Up to you."

I don't say anything. Video had value as evidence, but video is also forever. Video can be watched by my husband, our future child. This is just one day. You said we have the whole day. It can be over soon.

"You have to decide."

"No drugs, no video."

You smile. You knew I'd say that. "Any other rules?"

"And they wear condoms."

You laugh out loud. "A little late for that now, don't you think? Did you make Khaled wear a condom?"

I hadn't. The shame of what I'd done shoots through me and I turn bright red.

"I'm not protected. I'm not on anything. We've been trying to have a baby."

You gleefully trace my stomach and my pussy with your hands.

"I am going to breed you to this whole fucking city. Starting now."

You leave and come back into the room with Marco.

"Marco, she's a rich downtown fancy public relations bitch and her husband can't get her pregnant. Want to give it a try?"

Marco smiles at me. I see gold teeth.

"Ok, Marco, remember what we talked about. You can't draw blood or do anything that will leave a scar. No marks on the face. If she's smart she won't fight you."

You turn to me.

"You understand? Marco is going to do whatever he is going to do. If you fight him, he's going to do it anyway and to be honest he's probably going to enjoy it more that way. If you scream, I will gag you. If you try to run, I will bind you in place. If you bite or hit..."

You lift the t-shirt off me and the hairbrush comes out of the air again, three quick blows on on my breasts.

"You understand?"