Talias Premonition

The drive back to town was excruciatingly long and wearying for Madame Talia. Her sleeplessness had only been interrupted by relentless nightmares of degradation and sexual torture. The only temporary escape had been a handful of rest stops where she had dozed off for around ten to fifteen minutes every couple of hours drive. The last leg of the drive was so hazy she could not remember having thought about what turns to make. As she stopped the automobile and turned off the engine, she drifted off for a short nap once more.

Upon waking ten minutes later, it dawned on her that she was not parked in front of her residence. Instead she was sitting in front of the address associated with the subject of her tormented nightmares, a man she knew as Chance. She no longer remembered his last name but the address was etched in her memory. Her subconscious mind must have driven her to this place with a purpose. Apprehension filled her mind when she thought about talking to him. Dread of the nights and days ahead without resolution warred with the trepidation and eventually won out.

Talia decided that the best course of action would be to apologize for the two letters and hope that out of whatever might pass for kindness in his heart would allow him to overlook her so-called transgression. Perhaps if she promised not to report the rape, he would take it easy on her and not cause permanent physical harm. If she tried hard not to resist him, maybe he would not be too violent. Weakly, Talia pulled at the door handle to release the catch. As slowly and as lightly as possible she closed the car door attempting to avoid any undue attention. She paused a moment before facing the door to his house. She worried that her hesitation would be too noticeable, so forced herself to push away from the car door.

The grey brick ranch house had a neatly manicured lawn. Talia might have even considered it pleasant to look upon, if she were aware of anything other than what she currently had in her mind. A low hedge ran the length of the porch punctuated only by the low steps at the end of the walkway. As Talia ascended, she spotted the button for the doorbell, a simple brushed silver plate with a lighted button. It loomed large in her vision and assumed prominence. Talia became aware that she was holding her breath as she reached to press the button.

With great effort she resisted tearing herself away from the front door and rushing headlong for her vehicle in panic. There was no immediate answer. She pressed the button again. The anxiety in her breast kept track of every beat of her heart and felt like it was being pumped higher. Again, there was no answer to the ring. She had come too far to give up at this point. If she had to return again later, she did not know if she could actually carry through with it. Contemplating an impending rape would not come any easier the next time around. There was also a large and rather heavy looking mechanical door knocker attached to the front door. Talia worried her lower lip deciding whether the doorbell or the knocker would get a better response. She hadn't heard any noise when pressing the doorbell button. Growing desperate to finish though, she pressed the doorbell button again twice hard in quick succession. She also reached for the door knocker and hefted the clapper as high as it would go and slammed it down three times causing the door to ratchet open an inch with each rap.

Startled, Talia quickly scanned the street to see if anybody else had been watching her actions at the door. "No, No, No," she thought, "this will not do. I can't afford to be accused of breaking and entering."

Watching the street for any passing vehicles, Talia gingerly reached for the door handle in order to pull it shut. She hesitated for a moment before calling out gently, "Hello? Hello? Is anybody there? Your door opened accidentally. I'm just going to shut it." She hoped that would cover her in case there were any questions later about it. She grasped the knob and when she did there was a slight clicking sound and something stung the pad of her thumb.

"Ow!" she squeaked. The sudden pain drew her attention back toward the door. As she focused on her now stinging hand, through the opening she spotted the chair that once adorned her reading studio. Her throbbing hand and the sight of that chair in Chance's house robbed her of caution. She felt bile rising in her throat and she stumbled forward dumbfounded. Talia swallowed hard to tame the rising bile, and stepped up to the chair, staring down at it almost beginning to hyperventilate. "He stole my chair!" she exclaimed.

Chance had just wandered into the foyer after Talia had moved through to the study. He was on his way to answer the door, and in a low even voice, he spoke in reply, "It WAS discarded."

Talia yelped and jumped being startled by Chance's voice behind her. She turned quickly around and felt woozy from doing so. Backing away, her rear end made contact with the arm of the chair. To Talia, as it parted her cheeks it felt like the universe was prodding her, goading her to do something. Suddenly she felt like her skin was on fire and tingly like little pin pricks all over her body. She looked at Chance standing there with an imperturbable and inscrutable look on his face. She fumed, her temper flared and she tried to growl. It came out more like a monosyllabic "RRRRRRRR!"

Talia didn't recognize herself any more. She felt disconnected from what was currently going on and like she was standing outside of herself. "RRRRRRRR!" again she growled in frustration. "Damn you!" Then she yanked her shirt off over her head and threw it at him. Talia wasn't sure why she suddenly became so bold but the dam had broken and it all came flooding out. "Fuck you!" she spat and with that she pulled her bra off over her head without unfastening it and threw it at him. Her nipples which already felt like they were on fire were disturbed by the elastic band and grew taut. "Fuck me!" she ejected as she dragged her skirt up over her head waist band tweaking her nipples again. Talia couldn't understand why she didn't feel the least bit embarrassed. "The Lord knows I don't want any bit of you on me or in me!" she yelled as she shucked her panties and they slid down around her ankles. "Use me against my will. Rape me and get it over with!" It felt strangely cathartic to Talia as the words tumbled out from who could guess where. She felt dizzy, almost inebriated, and like the room was suddenly going to spin out of control.

Chance, watching what was unfolding in front of him, felt his mind go blank in disbelief. As Talia stood there looking thoroughly naked and kind of wobbly, all he managed to say was "Cute socks."

"Shit...." She stood there as defiantly as she could muster given the state she was in, and then she slurred out, "I jessh wan myeee life back." At that point, she blacked out and collapsed back into the chair. Her head hit the back of the chair with an audible thump.

"That..., will probably leave a mark."

∞

"I have a problem," Chance began as he opened up a portable video player, pressed start and spun it around to show the man behind the desk. The man looking at the video gave a low whistle. He pressed the play button once more when the footage finished.

"She looks kind of hot." He ventured. "What's the problem?"

"Come on Frank. She's accusing me of planning on raping her. You know who my employer is; I'm head of security for crying out loud. I can't afford that kind of exposure."

"She says you're going to rape her and she's throwing her clothes at you and you're just standing there all non-threatening like? I know a handful of guys who would love to have that kind of problem buddy." He pressed the play button again. "How did you get her to do that?"

"She may have been under the influence..."

"The influence of what; eh, Chance?"

"A little present I have set up for home security. I get dicey characters that go through my neighborhood and bump my door to see if my house is an easy mark for B and E. They usually run off after getting the sting from the injector on my door knob. I give them a special concoction I brewed up, some Molly to get rid of their inhibitions. A double dose of Niacin to make them want to undress because they are feeling flushed. And finally a time release soporific to make sure they fall asleep naked somewhere."

"Chance, you shouldn't be telling me this. Not talking about a controlled substance."

"You're my lawyer. Client attorney privileges still counts for something right?"

"In that case, I'm billing you for this. So why didn't she run off? And more importantly, did you tap dat? I would have." He pressed the play button again.

"She's not my type Frank." He scowled.

"What? She's alive and breathing... she throws her clothes at you man. What more could you want?"

"She's infuriating. I can't think rationally for some reason. I went to see her after that first note she accused me of planning on raping her. It didn't go well. I kind of kidnapped her when I bound her to her chair. I had intended only on finding out why she sent the note. I left her in the dark while I tried to collect my wits. But then I lost it again when I set her free. I don't know what comes over me when I'm around her."

Frank whistled out loud again. "Damn man, you in da shit. Hope you got a lawyer..."

"Your sense of humor is appalling Frank. What can I do to settle this?"

"Hmmmm. Give me a moment." He pressed the play button again, and Chance snapped the lid of the video player shut and turned it off.

"Well, my advice is, marry her."

"What?" he protested. A bit of color drained from Chance's visage.

"I'm a JP, you know? I could fix it; get you two hitched right up. As your spouse, she wouldn't be able to testify against you. Marriage tends to calm a woman right down. I hear it sometimes makes them down right comatose in the bedroom."

"Frank... you're my friend, but even I find it hard to put up with your jokes. I've got to go. Give me a call if you think of anything better."

"Sure thing buddy," said Frank as he watched his long-time friend stand and walk out of the office.

∞

The afternoon sun shining through the curtains in the living room created a mottled pattern of light and dark across the back of the sofa, across Talia lying prone on the sofa, and the small coffee table. As consciousness slowly arose, Talia became more and more aware of a throbbing headache. The soft light there was, seemed too bright when she tried to open her eyes. She began to recognize her own living room, though how she had arrived in it was beyond her comprehension. The last thing she definitely remembered was standing nude in Chance's study waiting to be sexually assaulted. She fretted over what had come over her that would cause her to shed all semblance of modesty. Had she really begged him to take her, to rape her? And now it appeared she was fully clothed in her living room. Well, not fully clothed as she realized there was no bra underneath her shirt. Her pelvic region did not feel sore from being roughly treated. She put her hand in her panties and checked her vagina with a couple of fingers and did not find any semen.

She let her skirt fall again. Did he refuse to rape her? Did he use a condom to avoid leaving any trace? Having passed out left the whole situation unresolved in her mind. She had no idea how long she had been out. What now, she wondered. She wanted badly to know one way or the other. That meant she would have to go to him again and ask. For the moment, the thought of doing so mortified her. Right now, she needed to recuperate. That meant figuratively dragging herself to the kitchen to get something to eat and drink. Returning to the sofa, Talia saw her bra where it had been left beside her. She settled down and ate a few bites and drank some water. She tried to settle her mind and meditate for a while. Eventually, sleep settled her mind temporarily.

Madame Talia opened her eyes to look at the bouquet she was holding. It looked gauzy until she realized that a white veil was hanging down from the crown of her head. As the focus of her vision changed, she also noticed that she had on a flowing white gown. There were pews lining the center aisle that was strewn with white rose petals. People that sat in the pews look back expectantly. The organ music that was playing lightly suddenly changed to a march-like tempo as if to cue her forward. Curious where her dream was leading, she found herself start to slowly proceed along the aisle toward the altar. After a half dozen syncopated steps the groom started to come into focus. Her nemesis, Chance was waiting for her there. He wasn't smiling, or looking longingly at her, but appeared to look demanding. Momentum seemed to carry her forward one more step.

In slow motion the bouquet tumbled from her fingers floating lazily toward the ground as she started to turn and run in the opposite direction. Her motion seemed to feel like trying to swim through molasses. Urgency arose in her chest and she was having trouble breathing due to the tight garment. Panic flared as Chance's voice echoed, "Stop her."

With every step the train of the gown threatened to trip her. Frantically she continued to run and tugged and tore at the train to remove it and leave it behind. She skidded around a corner and collided with Chance as he suddenly appeared before her. His hands grabbed her arms as she struggled to push him away. In the fight the arms of the gown tore and allowed her to escape. She ran for the stairs and got a dozen steps forward when he stamped on the vestige of gown train that she hadn't managed to lose. She fell forward when the remaining train and part of the skirt ripped at the back of her waist. As she scrambled to her feet Chance grabbed a handful of the skirt. More of it tore from her when she twisted away from him. She could now feel a breeze playing along her legs and ruffling her pubic hair.

His arm encircled her waist as he demanded, "Come here Bride." With a flourish he yanked the rest of the skirt from her and hoisted her up over his shoulders. Her back side was exposed for all to see as she landed roughly draped across his shoulders. Her wrists were firmly enclosed in the grip of one of Chance's hands. Around the backs of her knees, one of his arms draped and wrapped her body around his head. Her only mobility left was her calves and feet. As she wriggled in his clutch, the one thing she managed to loosen was her left shoe which fell to the ground. She grew moist between her legs as she felt the heat of his cheek against her pelvic region.

"Help me," she gasped, "Save me," Talia pleaded with the crowd.

After that she awoke, her chest heaving. She checked and still retained her clothing, disarrayed but intact. She remembered every bit of the dream in vivid detail. She played a movie with her video disk player in an attempt to forget it, but the memory taunted her in between character dialoging. When the disk was finished playing she switched to streaming to keep the distraction up. Somehow, exhaustion helped her catch a couple of hours of restless sleep.

The next morning, with eyes bleary from little sleep and red from tears threatening to begin pouring, she pulled on her shoes and stood up. Once more she drove to Chance's house. It was early still. She thought that it was early enough he couldn't possibly have left for work. She insistently pressed the doorbell button over and over. Impatiently she also used the heavy door knocker alternately. The security system forwarded the video from the front door to his phone as he sat at work. In her exasperation at the lack of response, Talia started talking to the door. "Please let me in," she started, "It's a matter of life and death."

Chance scoffed. She was starting to sound like a cheesy movie now he thought. He was glad he had fixed the latch on the front door so it would no longer spring open when she pounded on it. The longer she kept at it, the more tempting it was to consider Frank's off handed suggestion to marry her if it would actually provide some resolution to his dilemma. He would listen to the recording later. He really needed to get some work done this morning.

Talia continued talking at the door, "I won't... I can't be a party to what you are planning. Don't do it! Please, reconsider? Don't do what you are contemplating." She felt somewhat humiliated standing outside his door begging him to stop what she thought he was planning. Even rape would be better than that she thought to herself. She felt like the neighbors were starting to watch her through their windows and marveling at the crazy lady. After half an hour she gave up and walked back to her vehicle. As she drove away, she wondered if it would be possible that a restraining order would help put some distance between the two of them.

∞

Frank called Chance's cellphone just as Chance was getting ready to head home. Chance accepted the call.

"Hey buddy! You'll never guess who was just in here. No... the stripper! Yeah, seriously man! She wants me to file a restraining order against you! Can you believe it? It's not that much conflict of interest." Frank protested. "You give any thought to my suggestion? I can get the paperwork drawn up, she'll think she's signing a restraining order, but she'll really be signing a marriage license. Whatdya think? That should shut her right up man. No. No. It won't have to be permanent... we can get an annulment through lickety-split after she agrees to leave you alone... If that's really what you want. Hey, at that point you can even legally rape her. Okay, okay, I'll stop with the jokes. So, what do you say?"