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“Where is my story? You said it’s in this month’s prison issue?” I can’t find it, look up from the magazine – and stare straight at his red dick.
I burst out laughing. I’m sitting in some hall filled with stuffy chairs at a maximum security prison only because he promised me I was published.
I get yanked out of my chair. I still laugh.
“Silly man. Let go. I know we’ve worked together the past week on the movie shot in your hallowed halls, but can’t say I’ve noticed you that way.”
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Wrong thing to say, I gather.
He pushes me to the floor; holds me down with his body – and tears my stockings. I’m in trouble; keep my legs crossed.
Too late. Panties are gone. He’s in. I smell him. Smell sex. He’s too heavy. I can’t breathe. I give up.
Half an hour later I stumble barefoot through a door guarded by two youngsters. He planned it, the bastard, I still think.
I get to my car I don’t know how; he’s at the other side, asking for a lift.
Crime stats: Murder rates up, sexual offences down
I must have said yes. We drive, me sobbing while he directs: “Left here. Right. Stop.” He disappears – and the car stalls.
My knees won’t work. Some traffic cop stops; doesn’t ask about the tears; just gets my car going.
“Where do you need to go,” he asks. Hell? Home? He escorts me All The Way.
I’m home safe, kiss Beloved. I’m fine. But I’m not. I cry for three days – and finally broke during a press round.
The journalist only says: “Admit It: you were raped.”
So I admit It – to myself, then Beloved. He wants to break his legs, but I won’t spell out His name.
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He won’t get away with it, I decide. I phone the movie maker’s wife to tell her. She oohs – but doesn’t believe me.
“Didn’t you tell him during lunch you can’t punish prisoners by taking away their sexual freedom? You wanted him to bring in whores.”
That doesn’t make me his whore, I think and phone his boss. She aahs – but doesn’t believe me.
“My right-hand man?” Yes, he did me with his left. I never hear from her again.
The movie maker avoided me at the premiere. It never happened… But it did.
And I did not look for It. I said no. Because sex is my choice, always.
And your righthand man stole that choice. He raped me.
Growing trend of sexual crimes means we are failing as a society, we just have to do better