“Hey, how are you? I’m glad you could make it.”

“Wait, where am I?”
“You’re here for your physio appointment, remember? You felt a twinge in your shoulder and needed it checked out.”

I didn't remember scheduling an appointment. I didn’t remember feeling a twinge in my shoulder, and strangest of all I didn’t remember how I got here, wherever here was.

“I um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m a little confused. When did I schedule this appointment?”

“Last week,” the man said. He stood over a massage table in a sterile room with not much outside of the table, a counter and some cupboards.

“Melissa.” He pressed a button on the wall. “When did Miss Janney schedule her appointment?”

A voice came through the intercom. “Last week. Tuesday.”

“Thank you Melissa,” he said and then looked at me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I think so. I’m just having a weird moment because I don’t recall how I even got here.” I gave a nervous laugh and looked around the room to gauge which was the best way to leave. “And my shoulder, it feels fine. I think maybe I’m just going to go and if it acts up again I’ll call back, okay?”

“Oh, it’s fine again? You mentioned on your call that it woke you up several nights over the past few weeks and you were in unbearable pain but it would set itself back to normal during the day.”

“I did?” I asked, again having no recollection of the conversation.

He simply nodded and stared.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I just am not feeling well and think I should go home and lie down.” I wanted to leave. That was the only thought that was going through my head, I wanted to leave and I wanted to get away from this man who I didn’t recognize and who made me feel very uncomfortable.

“Why don’t you lie down on the table, it will make you feel better.” He motioned his arm to the massage table next to him and stepped aside.

As I started to protest and tell him I would feel better at home I was surprised to find myself walking over to the table. I moved right past him and turned my back to the table and lifted myself up on it, then tipped to my side and laid flat on my back looking up at the ceiling. Immediately I felt vulnerable but my hands laid parallel with my body and I continued staring upward.

“Good. Good. Thank you Teagan for being so cooperative. I know these types of things can be a bit nerve wracking, meeting with a new practitioner and all but I promise everything will go just fine. Now, once you feel you have your bearings let me know and we can begin.” His voice was calm and smooth. There was a way in which he spoke that was eerily leveled. Every word that left his mouth was the same volume, tone and his cadence in which he spoke never wavered for even an instant. I was surprised at how focused I was on it and how I noticed every syllable and the breaths between words.

He turned his back to me and I heard paper shuffling. I listened to his breathing, or I listened for his breathing but I couldn’t hear it so I listened harder. My attention was on every sound he was making and as I registered each sound I waited for him to speak again while also wanting to ask if I could leave but I was too nervous to say anything.

“Teagan?” He asked.

“Yes?” I said without hesitation.

“Are you ready?”

“I-I don’t know,” my voice had a tremble in it. 

“How about you get up. Stand next to the table and we’ll give you an assessment.”

I rose as soon as he stopped talking. My legs swung off the end of the table and I pushed myself onto the ground and stood just as he had suggested. But I didn’t make myself do it, I just did it. I didn’t want to lay down to begin with but I also didn’t move myself to stand back up.

“What-What is going on?” I asked, my nerves causing me to begin to shake.

“You’re fine, Teagan. How about you begin disrobing.”

“What? No!” I stepped back against the massage table. Away from him. Away from his voice.

He laughed at my response.

I stared at him. My face was a mix of fear and worry and he laughed at me as if I had made a joke.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I said that wrong.”

My heart was racing and my arms stretched across my midsection. I stared at him with a sharp awareness of every twitch of his fingers, but I still waited in anticipation of his next words.

“I meant to say, take off your dress, Teagan.”

My eyes moved to the door, then the door handle. I wondered how quickly I could get to it and if it was unlocked. Could I open it before he grabbed me? If I yelled would Melissa hear me and come in? Would she help? I thought about shoving him backwards and running, maybe if I got him off balance I could knock him down and then I could

My hands took fistfuls of fabric from my dress and began pulling it down.

I wasn’t doing that. I didn’t want to undress.

I tried to stop them, but they kept moving. The fabric dragged off my shoulders, exposing more and more skin. No matter what I did, my body would not listen.

The dress moved down my arms and each inch of skin that was exposed caused my face to twist further. The neckline of the dress hung well below its design, but moments before I felt it  pull below my breasts he told me to stop.

“Teagan, wait.”

He was still across the room by the counter.

My hands still had the fabric clutched inside of them, but they now grabbed hold of their opposite arm as well. 

That was me. I could tell. I was holding onto myself. Squeezing for stability. To see if I still had any control over my movements.

“Why do you look so uncomfortable?”

I wouldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to. I was terrified of him and I prayed to a god I never knew that I would make it out of here quickly. My head was turned down and away, staring at the floor.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Miss Janney.”

My head snapped up and my eyes moved to him, then quickly shot away.

He chuckled, “you know, after all this time I still can’t get used to the eyes. They’re difficult to control. The window to you, inside there, is just so hard to close.”

I watched as he walked over to me. My fingers dug into my arms harder, but no matter how hard I screamed remained frozen in place.

“And.” He leaned in close, “especially when they’re a fighter. When they refuse to give up control and think they can escape. You know it’s much easier if you relax. Let go. It’ll wash over you and I promise you it will feel good. I’ll make sure all you remember is pure bliss.”

The eyes. My eyes. They were shooting left and right. He was too close. I didn’t want him this close. I wanted him to go away. I wanted to be anywhere else, just not here. I felt my eyes stinging. Tears welling up and ready to flow. He can’t control the eyes. Why is crying the only thing that’s mine and it’s still out of my control?

“Oh, oh no. Don’t.” He did that laugh again. The condescending one. “Don’t cry Teagan. No. This is okay. This is fine. You’re fine. Just—” 

He reached out and placed his hands on my hips and every part of me inside shivered, but my body never moved. It felt as if everything under my skin was crawling with disgust, while everything on the outside ran cool and calm. His hands squeezed into my hips and I could feel the hard dig of his fingertips.

“Listen. After this is all done. After everything—and I’m not going to hurt you, don’t worry about that. None of this is going to hurt you. You’re going to walk out of here, and you’ll feel good and you won’t remember a thing. Well, you’ll—maybe, I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet, but anyways, that's not the point. The point is you don’t have to cry. Please. Don’t cry. It makes this—”

He sighed. Was he…frustrated?

I blinked and a single tear ran down my cheek. 

“You see. How am I supposed to—” He shook his head. “I was really looking forward to meeting you, to having fun together.”

He pecked my cheek. It was just a peck. The same spot that the tear had run down.

I screamed. As loud as I possibly could. It was a scream that would have broken my voice. I would have been hoarse for a week. Glass would have shattered. Car alarms would have gone off in the street. Dogs would bark and howl.

No sound left my throat and he pressed his body flat into mine. His lips pressed to my skin again, closer to my ear. He whispered, “Take off your dress, Teagan.”

The dress was ripped down my body with my own hands. The fabric pulled below my breasts as he, whoever he was, had his body pressed tightly to mine. It pulled down between us and bunched together around my hips.

“Off,” he whispered, again, as he pressed his lips against my ear. The heavy, hot breath of his voice in my ear made me want to throw up. 

When I shoved the dress past my hips they fell to the floor and I realized I wasn’t wearing any underwear. No bra. No panties. Why was I not wearing underwear? Why would I have left the house without panties on while wearing a dress? I would never go to an appointment, any appointment, without a bra on.

He stood back and looked at me, his hands never left my hips. “You know, I’m so glad I had you come in with no underwear.”

What?

“Don’t get me wrong. I like undressing a woman, and seeing a girl in a nice set of bra and panties, or lingerie, is always really great. But there’s something about a naked woman that is just so much more satisfying. And, knowing you came here—you woke up this morning and threw on this dress and spent your entire day with no panties on and no bra on, and maybe someone noticed. Maybe you bent over and they saw your pussy and you just made their day and you had no idea. None. That makes me get so hard thinking about it.”

The sheer amount of questions bouncing around my head were innumerable. 

“I love your skin. You have such perfect skin, Teagan. I don’t care for your name though. Teagan. It sounds so made up. Yeah, I know what you’re going to say, or think actually.” He laughed at his own shitty joke. “All names are made up, but most names seem to come from somewhere. Teagan sounds like a, I don’t know. It just sounds made up.”

There was a moment when he was talking that I thought to myself what a fucking weirdo he is. I had forgotten that I had no control over my body. I didn’t remember that I was naked. For a moment, I was able to split through the horror of what was happening to me and realize that this man was not the calm and collected person she observed earlier. He probably wasn’t even a physiotherapist, and she started to wonder exactly where the building was that housed the room she was in and who Melissa was in all of this. 

Her mind would have continued racing until he said something, even after everything else that had happened, that terrified her more than not being able to move.

“I was wondering—thinking if I should change it. Well, you would change it but I would give you a new name. Something I liked. And you’d like it too, because I’d tell you to and well, we both know how that works by now, right?”

He chuckled. This piece of shit chuckled like it was nothing, as if changing my name was the same as buying a new pair of shoes.

“Something like Tiffany? I’ve always liked the name Tiffany.”

Tiffany would have infuriated me more than I let it, but his hands started moving on my body and all of my focus went to that.

“Tiffany. Yeah, I like Tiffany. Reminds me of the singer. You know that song.” He began humming I Think We’re Alone Now and swaying his hips along with moving mine for me. “Tiffany? Teagan? What do you think, do you want your name changed?”

“No,” I said plainly.

It was my voice, my words, my sentiment, but without the explosion behind it that I would have given it had I had control over myself.

“No? Well, you’ll get used to it. I just have to work out the program. The tics. The pattern, and you’ll like it. I promise you, you’ll like it.”

“Well, we don’t have a lot of time. Melissa doesn’t have a lot of time left.”

I didn’t know what that meant. Well, I didn’t know what any of this meant and this was just another item to pile on top of the rest. But none of that mattered because his hands were moving and he was touching me. His fingers were pressing into my skin and his lips and tongue were against me. At this point I wished my eyes had glazed over. I wished I had given in and gave up, like he had said earlier. I would press that button right now if it meant I could check out of what was going to happen next.

“Teagan. I’ll call you Teagan until I get everything ready. See! See, you have some say. Some. But, anyway. Teagan, I want you to pinch and twist your nipples.”

My hands moved up in a direct, but smooth motion. The index finger and thumb on each hand moved to a pincer and positioned around each respective nipple. His own index finger and thumb grabbed my chin and lifted my face to his. My eyes had no ability but to look into his. 

I squeezed and my face curled inward in reaction.

He groaned out a pleasing sound. “Good. I love the way your face reacts so naturally. You must really love that. Is that a thing you like when you have—when you’re with someone in bed?”

“Yes,” I said, again flatly. I hated that he now knew something so intimate about me. He has already seen me naked. His eyes had burned a hole into my breasts and between my legs. 

“Yeah, I knew it. You can’t fake that. Twist them for me. Nice and hard. I bet you like it when they’re twisted hard.”

As soon as the command left his mouth my hands were twisting my nipples and a line surged from my nipples to between my legs. How was my body still feeling pleasure, natural pleasure, from something that was the opposite of arousing to me.

“Turn around. Let me see your ass. Bounce up and down and let me watch it jiggle.”

His voice was calm again. The rambling, rattled words he had spoken a short while ago were gone and he was back to being the man who was present when I walked in. Someone who needed to be listened to and the way he talked needed to be focused on. It was making my brain heavy and clouded.

I turned my back to him and then pushed up on the balls of my feet. Lifting up in short, sharp movements, I raised myself up on the balls of my feet and lowered down repeatedly. Swiftly. My breasts bounced and swayed on my front while my cheeks jiggled and shook behind me.

“Mmm, yeah. That’s perfect. Fuck, yes, I like that. Keep going.”

I continued. Over and over again, just as he said. My body was on display for him and he watched the fat and the natural curves of my body shake for his enjoyment.

“Crawl up onto the massage table and bend over. Show me your pussy and your asshole.”

Climbing up onto the table was easier than I thought. It wasn’t wide, so as I pushed myself up onto it I wasn’t sure if I’d have the balance to stay up, but I managed it. I was stable and felt sturdy, so I placed my head down against the massage table and left my backside up in the air. I was exposed and vulnerable, but for some reason I wasn’t embarrassed as I thought I would be. I wasn't as nervous as I had been. I didn’t know what was happening and all I could focus on were his commands.

“You look great, Teagan. Amazing. You’ve got a really nice looking pussy.”

He probed it. I felt his finger press against my labia and then in between. I was surprised to find how easily he slid his finger in, I was already so wet. Twisting my nipples was the only thing that I recognized as making me aroused. How had I gotten so wet?

“Some women,” he continued. “Their pussy isn’t as nice as this.” His finger pulled out and then traced along my labia. It was so soft and gentle that it gave me a shiver. My entire body reacted and he jumped back, surprised. “Wow, I did that without—that’s funny.”

“I like how puffy your pussy lips are,” he commented. He was talking about me like I was a painting he was admiring. “I really like that swollen pussy lips look. Like you’re ready and can’t wait to be fucked.”

There was a sound that I couldn’t place. A rustling that was coming from behind me. I had closed my eyes so I could focus on his voice, so I could hear the rhythm and cadence of his sentences because it made the heaviness of my brain feel less so. It was close to the feeling of wanting to sleep, but not nearly able to. Like when your eyes are burning from being awake too long but you can’t get to sleep because you’re in a bout of insomnia. His voice helped with that and when my eyes were closed it was so much easier.

But that sound, I couldn’t figure out what it was so I forced myself to open my eyes and look. The view was awkward at first and I didn’t understand what I was looking at because my head was kinked to the side and I was seeing everything on a different plane, but after a minute I saw that he was naked too. He was naked and his hand, his other hand, was stroking his cock while the first hand caressed my pussy.

“Teagan—god I hate that name. No. Stop. I’m not going to go off on a ramble again.”

He paused. Stopped talking. I heard him inhale and let out a deep breath. His hand stopped stroking.

“Teagan.” His hand started stroking again. “Rub your clit. Between your legs. It’s my favorite, watching a girl rub herself—masturbate in this position.”

Just as it had every other time he directed me, commanded me, my hand moved and it split my thighs and my index finger and middle finger pressed against my clit and immediately began rubbing. At first they split open around it and pinched together between my knuckles. Then they dragged back until it slipped from between them. My fingertips then pressed into my clit and rubbed in a smooth, well tested circular motion. A motion I had done many nights, mornings and stolen weekend afternoons by myself. Now this man, whoever he was, however I knew him, was watching me masturbate the way I only ever did in my own sensual privacy. Now, in front of this man, I was giving him a show instead and masturbating for his pleasure, not mine.

“Yes. God yes. That’s good. That’s so fucking good. Rub your pussy. Rub your—oh fuck. I have to stop. I’m gonna—mmm god. Not yet.”

He stopped stroking. He let go of his cock and turned away from me. I didn’t stop. My fingers continued to rub my clit and it felt so good. Why did this feel so good right now in this situation? God. Oh my god. I don’t want to cum. Not like this.

My mouth dropped open and a sound escaped. It was something from the back of my throat. Almost gargled deep inside it, but the sound came out and it made him turn around.

“Oh, right. Fuck. I forgot to tell you to—stop rubbing your pussy.”

My fingers moved from my clit and I pulled my hand from between my legs.

“Suck on those fingers though.”

The fingers that had been rubbing my clit slipped into my mouth and I sucked the dampness from them, and continued sucking until he told me to stop a moment later. My eyes were still open and they were watching him. I didn’t want to close them. I wanted to keep my eyes locked onto him and see what he was going to do next. To watch his mouth move as he gave me my next command.

“Oh god, what time is it? Shit. Uh, fuck. Why did I waste so much time. Um. Fuck. I don’t have enough time to do everything I wanted, and I need time to reprogram—shit! I need to work out a longer interval of this because it just isn’t enough time.”

He was looking down at the floor and rambling again. My head was feeling heavy. The calmness of his voice had left and I wished it would come back because I felt like I was so close to sleep. All I wanted now was sleep.

His face pressed against my raised backside, his cheek against my thigh and he looked down at me. I felt his finger on my right foot and he rubbed the sole up and down. My lips twitched from the sensitivity.

“How would you feel if we finished? Like, if we rushed through it? I need, well I have to wrap this up. We’re running out of time and if we’re going to do this again I have to stick to my schedule. I can’t deviate. The last time—no, I definitely can’t deviate. Would that be alright?”

“Yes,” I said. Once again the plainness of it was underselling the immense feeling behind what I would have actually given. Yes, absolutely I want this to be over! Yes, end this now! Yes, rush it! Do whatever you have to do just let me go!

“Okay. Okay. Don’t worry, we’ll do better next time. I’m working on something that will give us more time. Climb down. You can climb down off of the table.”

Thank god! It’s over. It’s over. It could have been so much worse. It was horrible and I’ll probably be traumatized but I didn’t have to do—

“There, good. Now bend over the table. Lean on it with your elbows.”

I turned away from him and leaned my elbows onto the table and felt his hands grab ahold of my hips. God, no. 

“I hope you’re wet enough. Sorry if not. I didn’t mean to rush. I should bring some kind of lube—anyway, um. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

My entire body reacted when he pushed inside of me, but none of it was me. My mouth dropped open and I moaned.

“Oh god, fuck yes.” Those were the words but I didn’t think them and I didn’t feel anything that warranted them. He pushed into me until his hips pressed flush against my cheeks. His fingertips dug into my hips and I could feel it hurt with how hard he was holding on. My mouth was still open in a long, drawn out moan. I sounded like I was performing for a pornographic video.

“You like that?” He said to me as he pulled back and pushed in again. 

“Yes, baby. Fuck me harder,” I cried, but my eyes actually rolled as whatever dialogue he had fed me to say somehow, somewhere was the most generic sounding shit I had ever heard.

“I love your pussy, baby,” he said again as he pushed forward and slammed into me way too hard for a second thrust. I lost my balance on my elbows, not prepared for such a hard thrust and he grunted in approval as if he had done something amazing.

“Can’t handle it, can you?” He beamed.

“Fuck me, yes. Fuck me more. Make me cum,” the vapid comments were the most incoherent slop I had ever heard. Worse than pornography. And to make matters worse, my head was heavy and began to throb.

“Oh god. I’m gonna—I’m—fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Oh—”

He pushed in and held onto me and I felt his cock jump and spasm inside of me and then a flood. His cock shrunk almost immediately after. Retreating to a small little numb that I’m sure it was as it wasn’t that big fully erect anyway and I was surprised he could actually get it all the way inside of me from behind standing up like that. 

He leaned over top of me as I remained in the same position. A hand reached up and cupped one of my breasts as it hung below me. His fingers pinched and tugged at the nipple and it made me inhale sharply from pain as he was not smooth about it.

“Oh god. Oh my god. That was incredible.” His lips pressed into my back and I wished I could burn the skin where they had touched. “I’m sorry I didn’t make you finish. I promise we’ll have more time next time. Maybe then.”

I didn’t move. I heard rustling behind me for a minute or two, but I continued staring forward at the wall. Then I heard a button and static.

“Uh, Melissa.”

A pause.

“Yes?” Melissa’s voice.

“You can go home now. The next time you get an email from me I want you to do the same thing as today, okay?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Melissa?”

“Yes?”

“Can you repeat it, just so I know you know what to do?”

“The next time I get an email from you I am to get the headset. Make sure the settings are to realistic and the sound is set to seven and the audio is set to open. Then I put the headset on, navigate to your playlist and let it play.”

“Good. Good. Excellent. Have a good evening, Melissa. And remember, try to convince your husband to let you take a picture with his cock in your mouth and send it to me. I know he keeps saying no, but I think you can wear him down.”

“I will.”

“Thank you, Melissa.”

“Thank you.”

His hands clapped together loudly and it made my flinch. 

“Okay, so, I think that’s it. And we’ve got about…twenty five minutes left. Okay.”

He walked around the massage table and stood in front of the wall so I was looking at him. I’m not sure why he didn’t just tell me to turn around, but he stood there in front of me and leaned down so we were very close and face to face.

“I had fun, Teagan. I’m glad you came. Well not ca—I’m glad we got together.”

Jesus Christ.

“Now, can you tell me the months backwards starting with December?”

I started listing the months. My voice was monotone.

“December. November. October.”

I yawned loudly and my mouth stretched wide open.

“Good girl. Keep going.”

“September. August. July.”

I shivered and felt really cold all of a sudden.

“Excellent. Next.”

“June. May. April.”

My vision went blurry and I squinted trying to see his face.

“Here, put these on.”

He put a pair of glasses on my face. When they went on my face they were strange. They had a screen inside of them in the corner, like how I would imagine those pervert glasses would be with the cameras in them. A screen in the top right corner was playing something and it was clear. I couldn’t see what it was though, but it was clear.

“Next months, Teagan.”

“March, February, Jan—”