text: [Themes: love & dating]
  
  The degree to which he hurt and humiliated you yesterday was far beyond any previous boundary. He even used your clothing to belittle you, ejaculating into your panties and keeping them as you left. You wanted him to dominate you, but was that too far? You kept yourself awake all last night wondering one big, horrifying question: were you raped?
  
  By most standards it was. You wanted him, but not the way he did it. You didn't ask for anal sex, and never would have in that circumstance. He forced himself upon you. But on the other hand, you did quite explicitly give him verbal permission to "have power" over you. Does that make it a consensual sex act? You don't know, and you spend the entire morning contemplating it.
  
  Mr. Wheeler barely acknowledges you when he arrives. He doesn't even look you in the eye. You get the sense that he knows he pushed things too far. But does what he feel even matter? You were the one who was raped, or not raped. You are angry that he did that to you, even if you wanted his domination. You are hurt, and a little frightened of him. You shouldn't have to feel this kind of dread and insecurity at work. You feel betrayed. But what are you going to do about it? You could turn him in. You could take it to trial and try to get him convicted. Or you could forgive his stepping over the line and try to salvage this strange relationship.
  
  You spend the better part of the day thinking about it, and then you make your decision.
  
  > forgive him
  You don't want this relationship to end. You are still attracted to him, despite what happened last night. And deep down inside you know that part of you gave him permission to do whatever he wanted. However, you take his lesson on power to heart: you won't wait for his permission to confront him about it. You get up and walk straight to his office.
  
  After you knock he lets you in. You stare at him as you stand just inside the door. He seems unsure of himself. You've never seen him like this before. Is that a twinge of remorse you see? He leans forward, an apologetic look on his face. "Ms. Swanson," he begins, but you don't wait for him to talk. You walk up to him behind his desk, looking into his eyes the whole way. You kneel before him, and then rest your head on his lap, looking up at him. His mouth opens in shock for a moment, then he visibly relaxes. He places his hand on your head and begins to gently stroke your hair.
  
  You lie there for what seems like hours, your arms wrapped around his waist, your head resting on his lap. No words are spoken, but the line of communication is clear: you are his, under his dominion, but in a strange way, he, too, is under yours.
  
  > Trouble
  Things calmed down at the firm after those two days. Isabella returned to work for a few days, and then suddenly disappeared. It was assumed she quit. Mr. Wheeler had a week long business trip, and in the interim Mr. Brandt was forced to run the firm. He was none too pleased, but you found his irritability rather amusing. The old man seemed allergic to work.
  
  When Mr. Wheeler finally returned, he was once again his aloof, condescending self. But he still found ways of "disciplining" you in his office. Things were going very well. Your job felt stress free, and your frequent "meetings" with Mr. Wheeler had left you both sexually and, surprisingly, emotionally satisfied. Being Mr. Wheeler's sub was exactly what you wanted.
  
  Everything was going so well, until the police arrived. With no warning, a detective arrested Mr. Wheeler and charged him with rape. At first you were astonished, as you never said a word about what happened. It was only yesterday at court that you found out the truth: Isabella had accused him of raping her, and she stole your semen stained panties from Mr. Wheeler's trash as evidence. It was enough for a warrant, and with Isabella's snake-like way of appearing weak and victimized, it might be enough for a conviction.
  
  Today you stood in the hall way, knowing that you'll be put on the witness stand. Mr. Wheeler's freedom may depend on your testimony, but his reputation as a professional might also stand in jeopardy if you say what needs to be said for him to possibly win the case. Terrified and angry, you put out your cigarette and walk into the court room.
  
  > Cross examination
  The room was cold. The jury sat impassively, and Mr. Wheeler was just in front of you, his arms and legs in chains. You had been staring at the clock for almost a minute trying to find an answer.
  
  "Ms. Swanson," the prosecuting attorney asked again, "Did you or did you not have a contentious relationship with the victim?" Anger suddenly floods your mind and you snap back, nearly shouting, "Victim? There is no victim, other than Mr. Wheeler. Ms. Jones is a liar and a vindictive cunt." A collective gasp fills the courtroom, then the judge turns to you and says, "Ms. Swanson, one more outburst like that and I'll hold you in contempt. Answer the question."
  
  You shake your head and draw breath to speak, but the attorney cuts you off. "Actually, your Honor, I don't think there is a need for that question to be answered anymore." He turns to the jury. "As you can see, Ms. Swanson obviously holds animosity toward the victim. That is why she so adamantly defends Mr. Wheeler. She hates the victim, and desperately wanted Mr. Wheeler for herself. When she heard about the rape, she was unable to accept it. Mr. Wheeler would never betray her like that." He turns back to you. "Does that sound about right, Ms. Swanson?"
  
  "No," you say flatly, crossing your arms. The attorney looks at you again. "Ms. Swanson, we already know that Mr. Wheeler is a controlling man. You even said it yourself earlier. He has latent violent tendencies, and most of all, we have the semen stained panties of the victim." He holds up the panties, holding them by the distinctive black and pink waste band all your panties have. Still talking to you, he turns to the members of the jury and continues. "Semen which matches the DNA of the accused." He walks up to the witness stand, looks you in the eyes and says, "In light of all this, Ms. Swanson, and may I remind you that you are under oath, would you admit that it is at least possible that Mr. Wheeler raped the victim?
  
  You've tried to be honest this entire time, and while you know in your heart that Mr. Wheeler is innocent, you can't deny the tiny, remote possibility that this rape occurred; or in the very least, you can't deny that any reasonable person would conclude such. What do you do? Do you perjure yourself? Do you answer honestly? You can see Mr. Wheeler below you, a desperate look of hope on his face. His freedom depends on you.
  
  > answer that while it's technically possible, you know it's false
  You don't know what else to do, so you answer that yes, it is conceivably possible that Mr. Wheeler raped Isabella. "But I know he didn't," you add. The attorney smiles. "And how do you know that, Ms. Swanson? Because you know the accused so well? How long have you worked at Wheeler and Brandt?" Your heart sinks at that question, and the many others to follow.
  
  After what seems like an eternity, the questioning ends. As you walk off the stand, you see Mr. Wheeler holding his face in his hands. Things look bad. More witnesses are called, and the day drags on. Soon closing argument are made, and after a recess where you chain smoke an entire pack of cigarettes, the judge asks if the jury has reached a verdict.
  
  "We have, your Honor," answers the foremen. "We the jury find the defendant guilty on one count of first degree rape." The rest of what he says is a blur, and soon the courtroom blurs as well, from your tears. Someone shouts out an anguished "no." It wouldn't be until that evening that you realize it was you.
  
  Mr. Wheeler is led out by the officers, and you make your way home in a daze, walking in a heavy downpour. Too broken to continue all the way home, you spend the night lying in a gutter, lamenting your failure. Mr. Wheeler's life was in your hands, and you failed him.
  
  Wheeler and Brandt went back to just Brandt, and you and almost all the other staff were let go. Weeks go by and you find another job. You hadn't found the strength to visit Mr. Wheeler just yet. His sentencing hearing would be in a few days. Standing in the morning sunlight, you decide that you won't be visiting him. That part of your life is dead. It was time to move on, and you tried to attack that new chapter of your life with the zeal you clearly lacked in the trial. Perhaps in the future you will find more success?