Social Worker And The Bully Ch 07

It was not easy, but I told her everything, in excruciatingly painful detail. I cried many times, she hugged and comforted me. I got a first-hand look at how good of a therapist she was, because she said only the bare minimum things she needed to say and prodded me on. And kept reminding me, none of this was my fault.

Finally, I got to the most difficult part of my confession. How I hacked into Mrs. Khanna's email and got the address for Mangal in Jaipur and gave it to Lallan. her face hardened the most during this, but she just nodded through it. I then told her about my troubles coping with it all, my recent day drinking, and everything.

When I finished, we were both silent for a while, me sobbing, and her hugging me.

"First of all, Manasi, I am so, so very sorry you have had to go through this." she moved to her chair and started talking. "In our line of work, we do have to put up with such risks. I have had a few unsavoury encounters with patients and spouses over the years. But nothing that comes even close."

I wiped my tears and nodded.

"This puts me in a difficult situation." she said. "You have admitted to betraying our confidence and telling the guy the address. That would be a fire-able offense. Maybe you knew that, which is why you resigned with immediate effect."

"I am so sorry." I said.

"I understand." she nodded sympathetically. "At the same time, Manasi, given the job you have been doing all these years, surely you know...."

"Yes, yes, I know!" I said a little too loudly. "I should go to the police, have him locked up. I know the theory and I know the logic. But he has all these pictures and videos."

"Manasi, we can work with the cops to do our best to confiscate it all. Even if he somehow manages to forward or post it, we have ways to take it down."

"I don't think so." I said in a flat voice. "I have seen enough instances of leaked revenge porn videos and MMS sex tapes. They never go away. Once it is out there, it is out there."

"Okay, okay, I see what you mean. I cannot imagine what you are going through. I can see your compulsions. I don't agree with your decision, but I see where you're coming from." she said. "Let me ask you this, though. What is your hopeful plan going forward? That he will just leave you alone and forget it?"

I looked at her and nodded, and then said,

"I know it's not ideal. But my hope is, now that he has his wife and daughters back, he will leave me alone. It's a slim hope, but the only hope I have. And then in a few months, I will be in the US, in Stanford, and we will be getting green cards and...."

"And it won't matter anymore." she nodded. "You are counting on the innate decency of a proven psychopath rapist?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She sighed.

"Manasi, remember what we tell them?"

"You always have a choice." we said in chorus.

"I know. And I get the underlying point. In my case though...."

"Yes, in your case, it is difficult. You feel that way, sitting where you sit. But you are a qualified counsellor who has worked with dozens of battered women. Now that you are one yourself..."

"No!" I spoke up.

"No?"

"Please, Nita! I am not a "battered woman" like those women. They stay in marriages, in relationships with those guys. I hate him! I loathe him!"

She just gave me a sad smile and said,

"You just told me you get drunk and masturbate re-living the..."

"That's different!" I almost yelled. I couldn't believe she was using that honest admission against me.

"How is it different?" she tenderly asked.

I sat back and sighed.

"I don't know. It just is."

Nita nodded, then made a few notes. Finally she spoke.

"Manasi, there is a lot more I would like to say. There is a lot to unpack here. But we might have shared information that is already a lot for one session. If we continue, you might get defensive and even emotionally exhausted."

I nodded. I knew the theory.

"Let's meet once a week from now on. As psychiatrist and patient. Do we have a deal?"

I nodded.

Nita got up and went to one of her cabinets on the side.

"Before you go....here is something for you." she said and walked toward me.

It was a small gun. I gasped. She continued,

"I know, you hope he will stay away. But I fear he will be back. I wish I could call the cops and have him locked up for raping you. But I promised you confidentiality. So I can't do that anymore. Unless you change your mind. In the meantime, keep this. It might help."

I took the gun and held it in my hand.

"Do you know how to...." she started saying.

"Yes, my dad was in the army. I have fired many guns." I said.

I thanked her. We said our goodbyes. She made a final entreaty to just come clean to everyone, tell the cops, and have him locked up. I told her I couldn't do that. We made an appointment for the following week. And then I left.

I went home and reached straight for the half opened bottle. But I didn't drink. Talking to Nita made me feel a lot better. I wished I had done it earlier. I put the bottle down, and went to the living room. I turned the TV on and binge watched some comedies on Netflix.

----

Sober. --

The next couple of days, I felt a little bit better. I was still under a cloud of gloom, but I didn't feel compelled to spend every waking moment drunk. Neither did it mean I was completely fine. I still drank myself to sleep every night. I could spend the bright daylight hours sober, but the darkness of the night brought out the darkness in my mind, and I needed the booze to help me fall asleep.

The panic and fear receded somewhat though. The small gun that Nita had given me gave me a sense of protection, almost like a safety blanket. I kept it next to the door in case Lallan came knocking some time. And I always kept it in my purse when I went out in case he ambushed me.

I still kept hoping he would stay away. But somewhere, deep down, I knew he wouldn't.

And he didn't.

I was home one evening, sober, dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, reading some psychology papers when the doorbell rang. I went to the door and looked through the peephole. And I felt a chill of terror. It was him!

"Memsaab!" I saw his face come close to the outside of the peephole. "I can see your shadow. Please open the door!"

I was terrified. I reached for the gun on the table next to the door. And then said loudly as I looked at him through the peephole,

"Go away, Lallan! You got your wife back. Leave me alone!"

I saw him smile and nod.

"Yes, yes, I did. Thank you for that." he said loudly. "I am not here to do anything to you, I promise. I am not drunk. I am sober. I just want to talk to you and apologize."

"Apology accepted. Go away!" I shouted back.

I saw him sigh and smile. He then took out his phone, played with it, and then held it against the peephole. I could see a video of us fucking in the living room couch, me riding his cock naked without any indication that I was being coerced.

"I don't want to, but I could forward this to a hundred guys right now." he said.

I gulped and stared at how I looked, riding him and moaning.

"And pretty soon, your neighbours will notice the din and come asking." he said.

"Fine!" I yelled.

I took a deep breath, held the gun in my hand, with the safety off, and opened the door. He casually pushed it and walked in.

"Wow, what? Hahaha!" he saw my gun and laughed, not looking intimidated at all.

"Lallan!" I said in a determined voice. "I don't know what you have in mind, but I will ask you to behave."

He put his hands up and smiled. As I saw his short wiry frame, shorter than me, standing a few feet away, I still wondered how he had been able to force me the way he did.

"Okay."

"What do you want?"

"I just want to talk. I promise. I really promise." he said, still smiling. "The gun isn't necessary."

"Well, it makes me feel safe." I said as he closed the door.

His face got serious.

"Memsaab, as I promised, I have not forwarded the pics or videos to the whole world." he said. "But I know you are a rich and connected woman. So I have sent them, as insurance, to a couple of friends."

I kept the gun pointed at him as I processed what he was saying, and frowned. He continued talking.

"If anything happens to me, those friends of mine will send the videos to everyone, including news channels, with the title, Social Worker Fucks Slum Woman's Husband."

I still kept the gun on him and stared at him.

"Come on, relax. Can't you tell I am sober and not angry like last time? You held up your end of the bargain. You gave me Mangal's address. I won her back. We are happy again. Really genuinely happy. I can show you videos if you allow me."

I didn't say anything as he cautiously moved his phone, pulled up a couple of videos and held them in my face. It showed Lallan and Mangal, hugging each other and looking very happy. Then another video of a small birthday celebration for one of the girls. Another video of all of them eating food at a small restaurant. The videos did paint the picture of a happy family.

"Please, just put the gun away and we can talk, like two adults. Believe it or not, I came to apologize." he said, taking a couple of steps towards me.

"I told you, I accept your apology. Now just...." I started saying, when he suddenly lunged at me and grabbed the gun.

He wrested it away from my hands easily and pushed me away. And now I saw the gun pointed at me.

"Hahaha, memsaab, do you think this is the first time I had a gun pointed at me?"

Shit, shit, shit, I berated myself silently. Dad always taught us, never let the target get within arm's length. I had messed up on that, distracted by his babbling. Now I feared the worst as he had a gun pointed at me.

"Please memsaab, just listen to me." he said. "Sit on that couch over there."

Sad and defeated, I walked to the couch, and sat down. I expected Lallan to plonk himself next to me. But instead he sat on the floor, still holding the gun.

"Good. Please sit. Relax. Listen to me." he said.

I just glared at him angrily.

"Don't....come on....don't look at me like that!" he said, sounding hurt. "You make me feel like a bad person. I am not a bad guy, really. And certainly don't need any guns. Here, I will show you."

I watched as he deftly unclipped the bullet magazine and took it out. Then pulled the barrel back to dislodge the bullet in the chamber, and caught it in his palm, with a fluid rhythm that showed me he knew how to handle guns. He then put the gun, the magazine, and the bullet on the table behind him. And then turned around to face me. I was sitting on the couch, looking down at him.

"What do you want, Lallan?" I said, breathless and angry.

"I told you. I came to apologize. Make amends. Explain myself." he said, sounding sincere.

"Okay."

"Listen, memsaab. Please let me say my piece, and then you can tell me if I am wrong. Okay?"

"Okay."

"That night when I came here, I was drunk and I was angry. My family had been ripped apart from me. I knew you were just doing your job, helping Mangal, pointing her in the right direction. I know the way she describes me and everything, you think I am a monster. I am not a saint, but I am not monster. I love my wife, I love my daughters, and you took them away from me. So I got drunk. And furious. And I.....over-reacted."

"Over-reacted?" I said incredulously. This man was describing a rape and battering as just an over-reaction?

"I know, I know. It was....it was too much." he said, sounding sad. "You're a brain doctor, Mangal says. So maybe you understand. There is this strange.....darkness inside me. Angry overpowering darkness. It has always been there. Since I was a kid. It just....I just....I can't control it, memsaab. Seriously. I want to. The good side of me wants to. Mostly I am a good guy. I love my wife, I love my daughters. And I respect your wisdom and your intentions. You were right in your advice to Mangal. You and she made me see the error of my ways. I decided to change. I want to change."

"Then change!" I angrily said.

"I plan to change, memsaab. And I am already changing. You want to come home right now and talk to Mangal? You can! She will tell you I have changed. No more fights, no more beatings, no more.....well...honestly.....very little drinking." he smiled.

"Okay." I said, still a little thrown by how calm and reasonable he was being.

He looked at me smiled sadly, and then stared at the floor.

"I truly genuinely want to say sorry to you for that night. I was drunk. I was angry. I was emotional. I was under the influence of that darkness I said."

"Okay." In terms of psychology, I really tried to empathize with his confession, but I couldn't.

"You think I wanted to do all that? I mean, do you think the real normal Lallan, the happy loving guy wanted to do that? I didn't. I had to do that!"

This was too much. I angrily yelled,

"You had to rape me and beat me up????"

He seemed a little taken aback by my intensity for some reason. He stared at me for a second and then said,

"I know I have wronged you. Which is why I am here to apologize. I was just doing what I thought was necessary at that time to get my family back and keep my family together."

"Okay." I could see some logic in that, as twisted as it was.

Most of all, I was happy he was being quiet, rational, friendly, and non-violent. When he grabbed my gun, I feared the worst. Instead, he dismantled and put it away and was giving me a mea-culpa. For the first time since that encounter started, I started feeling a little relieved.

"I am so sorry for all that I did. I want to tell you that. It's just this darkness inside me. Maybe you can treat me for it. It takes over. I can't control it."

"Yes, I know how hard that can be." My psychologist side took over. He was describing classic bipolar disorder syndrome.

"I am so sorry about it. It wasn't my intention to.....hurt you. I get no pleasure from it. My priority was my family, which means to me more than anything else."

"I understand." I nodded.

"So you see, it is all about keeping my family together and happy."

"Yes, I get it."

"So you forgive me?"

That was a tough question. Given whatever he had done, could I truly forgive him? But he was in my house, sitting by my feet, showing genuine contrition.

"Yes, fine, yes, I do. Happy?" I finally said.

"Thank you so much, memsaab." he said, actual tears in his eyes that he wiped away.

Lallan sat on the floor looking very sincere. I was feeling relieved that without the influence of alcohol, and with his family back together, he had come to his senses. I had not expected such an amicable end to our next encounter. But here we had it. Hopefully, we could move on, he could delete all the pics and videos on his phone and his friends' phones, and that would be the end of that.

Just as I was about to get up and show him out, he spoke again.

"There is.....one more thing I need your help with."

"What is that?"

"You know....the last time....I was drunk and in rage, but..." and he put a hand on my knee over my skirt, "it was still an amazing night."

"Lallan, please." I went red and gently moved his hand off my knee. "Let's not talk about that night again."

"But seriously...." he put his hand back, and this time gripped my knee firmly. "It was the best sex I have ever had. And I have banged a lot of women."

"Lallan...." I said, my voice rising a little. "Why are you..."

"Memsaab." he said, getting up on his knees like an eager lover, "You cannot expect me to believe you didn't enjoy it either. I was there, remember?"

"I did not enjoy it!" I said emphatically. Maybe a little too emphatically. He smiled. I tried again to move his hand away, but he did not let go.

"Your lips say one thing but I remember your body saying something else."

"Nonsense."

"The way you howled through those orgasms. The way you rode me. The way your crawled to the roof, horny. The way you locked your legs around my waist. The way your cunt..."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I yelled, tears flooding my eyes.

"The way your cunt muscles gripped my cock every time we fucked. Mangal never does that. None of my other bitches do that. It was special, memsaab!"

He put his second hand on my other knee and pushed my legs apart. I sat there in panic, dreading the bizarre turn this conversation was taking. Just when I thought he was apologetic and ready to move on. Classic bipolar behaviour, a small part of my brain piped up.

"Your brain and your mouth and maybe even your heart say no. But that warm tight moist thing there." he motioned his eyes towards my crotch. "It was hungry. It was deprived. And it welcomed the satisfaction I provided. Be honest."

I started to get up and fight him off but he effortlessly pushed me back and my ass thumped back on the couch.

"Don't deny it, memsaab. I am sure your husband is a nice man. But obviously he doesn't satisfy your needs. Just like my wife is a great woman but she cannot satisfy my needs the way you did."

"YOU RAPED ME, YOU ANIMAL!" I shouted in anger.

His response was to pout a little and nod.

"The first time that night, sure, I did rape you. I admit it. It was the anger and the darkness and the alcohol. You still came twice then, but yes, I did rape you." he said solemnly as if admitting to a minor infraction. "But the second time? The third, fourth, fifth, sixth times that night? That was just pure sex. After the first time, you had plenty of opportunities to run away. Or lock yourself in another room. Or even call the cops. But you didn't."

"Shut up!" I said. I did not want to admit that there was at least some truth to what he was saying.

"You were so....obedient. Be obedient again." he pushed my legs even farther apart, making my skirt slip a little.

"No!" I angrily replied.

"You are a head doctor. Diagnose yourself. Don't you think you liked what I do? And you want it again?"

"No!" I said shaking my head as my eyes teared up. "NO! NO!"

He was quiet for a few seconds and then said,

"Are you arguing with me or yourself?"

"Please leave, Lallan! Go back to your wife and leave me alone! I beg you!" I folded my hands.

"Because if I don't leave, you won't be able to resist my advances?"

He then swiftly lunged forward, so his face was inches away from mine. He tried to kiss me. I turned my face away. He grabbed my face with his right hand and pulled me into a kiss. Tobacco stench filled my nostrils. I didn't return his kiss. He broke the kiss after a minute or so, gently biting my lips before that. And then he leaned back.

I looked at the skinny intense man, staring at me from a couple of feet away, with an oddly earnest expression on his face. He was managing to sound reasonable even as he did some really nasty things to me. A far cry from the angry drunken lout of that other night.

"Do you know why I used to cheat on Mangal? Because she didn't satisfy me. So I slept around with a lot of women. Do you know why I slapped her around? The darkness inside me wanted that. But after you.....I don't need to. You might not believe it, but since that night, I have been like a saint with Mangal. Because you gave me an outlet for my darkness. That's how I want you to help me. Keep doing it, please. For my marriage. And for your own pleasure."

"Please go away, Lallan! Don't make me do this!" I was almost crying by now.

"Please be my mistress, memsaab. I am not asking for much. Maybe once a month?"

I tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hands. And then his eyes flashed with anger.

"MANASI!" he yelled, that old menacing tone suddenly returning to his voice. And then he continued in a low seething voice. "Must I always hurt you before you see sense? You couldn't fight me when I was drunk. Now I am stone cold sober. Do you want to get slapped around again? Is that why you're resisting me?"