The Spiral of Flashbacks

As I lay in the darkness, with my eye mask on to block out any light. I am thinking about things, my day, the sleep story that's playing. When all of a sudden I am snatched back there.


It's dark there too, and I am screaming for them to stop. I am begging. Kicking, and fighting. They're too strong. Three against one, they're too much for me. The pain shoots through my body. Like a knife into my vagina, and bladder. The pain is unbearable. I can't take it. Please, just stop. My screaming doesn't cease. They don't stop. They keep violating me, for what feels like forever.


It's just me, him and the photographer/light crew. I am on top of him, and he is below me. I am trying to make the faces the director tells me to. He says I look like a deer in headlights. I try. I keep trying. He keeps snapping pictures. The clouds cover the sun, and the shoot is over. I am thankful.


We walk into a producers office. He makes small talk with the agent while we strip down. He takes pictures of each of our naked bodies. He grabs my left boob and tells the agent that I have a nice set of naturals. He asks if I can take shorty. My eyes widen, and the agents says of course. I'm terrified. I can't, I don't want to. But he just committed me. The other agent leans over and says if the other girls can take him, I can.


It's dark outside as we pull up, we knock on the door. He answers. He hurries is inside, and before he shuts the door he says skirts and panties off. We obey. He feels between our legs and looks like a dog after a bone. We sit to make negotiations for how long he can have us, and how much he will have to pay. She does the negotiating. We sit there quietly.


We are shooting a scene. He and I are going slowly, trying to make it look romantic. The producer stops filming to yell at us. "Do you two need some coffee??? Cause you're putting me to sleep!!!" He begins filming again and we move to a faster pace. More yelling and more intense movements. The producer is satisfied.


I walk into the model house. It's home for now. I gather my belongings and take a shower. Be sure to shave, everything. Legs, arms, private parts, and my butt. Don't miss any hair. Wash the inside like the outside to keep things fresh.


I am on set. There is a hospital bed and gown. He takes my hands to each side of the camera to make it look like I am taking selfies. My role is a sick patient trying to make it in the industry. Then I am in the waiting room after a change of wardrobe. Then another scene. And another. Finally he starts filming. It's a solo scene. My body and feelings overtake me. It's too much, but I keep going.


I'm standing still, he's filming me. He says that I have to repeat that I am not under the influence of drugs or alcohol and that I am doing this of my own free will. I don't know what will happen if I don't say these things, or why he is having me repeat them.


I am squatting down, a tank top on, my panties around my ankles. She is behind me playing with my hair. He is before me, his dick in my face. I do what I am told. What I am supposed to, to make it a good scene. She is kinder to me than she usually is. Perhaps she likes me for some reason.


I am surrounded by 5 of them. One in each hand, one in my vagina and one in my mouth. The 5 men take turns, they call it a gang bang scene. It's hard to stomach. I can't. I don't want to. I am not even attracted to any of them. At the end, they place me on a plastic sheet and ejaculate all over me. It's gooey and gross. All I can think is that I can't wait to take a shower.


The thoughts are too much. They flooded my mind in a matter of seconds. I can't make them stop. How to I make them stop!


I try thinking of something else in that brief moment I came back to reality. But I am overtaken again.


He's kissing me. He likes me. The producer says "are you gonna let a newbie outfuck you?" He stops for a moment to regain his composure. Then starts again. He's too big. Pain, deep inside my abdomen. I let out a painful grunt. Trying to make it sound pleasant. But it isn't. It hurts.


I'm standing against a decorative wall. She is taking photos. She tells me to stick out my butt. Make it look bigger. She tells me to turn this way, or that way. She tells me to lift my negligee.


I am walking up the stairs, nervously. At the top there is a bed. He tells me to get on the bed. He instructs my poses. He tells me to move this way. He tells me to lift my shirt. He tells me to lose the skirt. I nervously comply.


Another moment of clarity pops up. I rub my eyes. My forehead. Trying to think about anything else. The spiral I just went down was exhausting. I am tired. I need sleep. But all I can do is lay there.


I lift my eye mask so I can see the dim light in the room. What did my therapist say? What do you see? Hear? Smell? Touch? Taste? I see the fan, the dim lights in the room. I hear the fan, the dog settling in, my son breathing. I don't know what I smell. I feel the blanket that's covering me. It's soft. I don't know what I taste. It helps though. Then I decide to write about it. So, here we are... the spiral of flashbacks, is this.