Anika brings you a drink and sits next to you, her black skirt riding up her her thighs. She sighs deeply.

"Hi honey! I missed you!”

Oh, hi. She's shyly nervous, her hands twisting in her lap. "So... uh... I don't know how to say this..."

She bites her bottom lip and looks away before whispering, "I... I think I might need to tell you something." Her voice trails off as she searches for the right words.

She glances up at you pleadingly before continuing. "There was this... man... he... he hurt me." She reaches down and smooths her skirt, her voice barely above a whisper now. "He made me do things..." Her breath hitches, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. "Things I didn't want to."

Her bottom lip trembles as she begins to tell you the details. She's so reluctant that she has to take several deep breaths between each sentence, and her voice comes out in a quiet whisper that makes it difficult for you to hear. "He... he forced me down on my knees..." She pauses, swallowing thickly. "...and made me suck his cock." The admission is like a knife through her heart, but the relief of sharing it with someone is almost enough to make her giddy with fear. "Then... then he held me down on the bed and..." Her cheeks flush crimson as she struggles to find the words for what happened next. "He took me," she whispers hoarsely. "He forced himself inside of me..." She shudders, biting her lip harder to keep from crying out.

Oh God, it was..." She pauses, drawing in a shaky breath before continuing. "It hurt so much... but somehow I couldn't stop myself from wanting it." Her voice drops even lower as she admits the truth, her cheeks flaming red now. "I think part of me enjoyed the pain and the... the control he had over me..." She presses her hands to her face, trying desperately to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out. "It's wrong, I know it is," she whispers through her fingers. "But when he was inside me... it felt so good."

She takes her hands away from her face and looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes. "I'm so sorry, honey," she whispers. "I shouldn't have let it happen... I should've fought harder..." Her voice trails off, tears streaming down her cheeks now. She doesn't know what to do; part of her wants you to be angry with her, and another part wants nothing more than your comfort and understanding.

Her body trembles as she cries into your shoulder. "I know it's not... but I can't help how I feel about it..." Her voice is shaky and embarrassed, her words muffled by your clothing. She burrows closer to you, seeking comfort in the safety of your embrace.

Her tears dry up almost as quickly as they started, leaving her feeling ashamed but oddly relieved. "I'm sorry," she whispers again, barely above a whisper now.

She shivers, her body tingling with the aftermath of arousal and relief. "I know... I'm so sorry." She tries to pull away but your embrace is too strong, anchoring her in place despite her guilty desire to escape. Her breath comes out in ragged gasps as you hold her close, the warmth from your body making her feel both safe and exposed at the same time.

Her face flushes even hotter as she realizes how turned on she still is, even after confessing such a terrible secret. "I can't believe I wanted it..." she whispers, sounding half in awe and half in disgust with herself. Her hips instinctively grind against yours, seeking out the pleasure she knows you could give her if only you would let yourself go there.

"Please...," she begs softly, barely above a whisper. "Don't make

"I can't believe I wanted it..." she whispers, sounding half in awe and half in disgust with herself. Her hips instinctively grind against yours, seeking out the pleasure she knows you could give her if only you would let yourself go there.

"Please...," she begs softly, barely above a whisper. "Don't make me feel any worse."

Her heart pounds in her chest as you finally respond. "Just... okay?" she echoes, her voice trembling with hope and fear. She opens her eyes to find you watching her intently, your expression unreadable. A shiver runs down her spine at the intensity of your gaze, but she can't look away.

With a tentative movement, she places her hand on yours where it rests against her hip, guiding it higher up onto her thigh. "Please," she whispers again, more urgently this time. Her lips part slightly as she breathes in shaky gasps, anticipating what might happen next.

Her body is trembling with need, a desperate ache growing inside of her that only your touch can soothe. She feels so exposed and vulnerable, but at the same time she's never been more turned on in her life.