Run

I ran.

Without giving him even a chance to catch me I turned towards the path back to the party, the path he’d led me down, and dashed towards it. Pushing through the little gap between the bushes and the brick wall, rushing through it and reaching the height that he’d lifted me up I dropped down it this time and kept on running.

I heard shouts from behind me, a man and a woman. Girl-Kim and her boy toy no doubt wondering what that noise was but I didn’t care. I reached a bend and I turned away from the path and raced through the underbrush, stumbling through the dark until I reached a small clearing with a tree in the middle, barely even enough room for me to stretch out my arms but enough for me to fall down to my knees and hug the tree and will myself to calm down.

That was crazy. That was fucking insane. That wasn’t me, right? I wasn’t in control.

And I tried to push and pull myself to that narrative, to make myself believe that it was this body’s urges or the pressures or something that could explain why I’d let that happen but I couldn’t hold onto anything hard or firm enough to make me believe it myself.

Because my mind kept going back to that moment. Reminding myself over and over again how good it felt to have his hands on me, how good it felt to cum. My rational mind telling me, every time the panic welled up and I searched for a way out, that I wanted it because that was the truth.

I wanted to say this day was a nightmare. That I was overwhelmed by being a woman and that I couldn’t make heads or tails of things and that might have been a little true.

I mean in the realm of crazy shit to have happen to you being turned into a woman and sent back in time to the beginning of college was… well it was insane enough that no one would believe me if I told them the truth. And so I could be forgiven if these completely unheard of circumstances made me do something a little crazy, but I couldn’t excuse my own part in them. Not entirely. Not to myself.

I choose to let him touch me. I wanted him to touch me. I liked the way he touched me.

And I had to run because I didn’t want it to stop.

Slouching low I hear movement from the path. I don’t know who it is but I don’t want them to find me so I hold my breath and hide and listen as they move on by. And in time the trembling stops and my nerves quit asking me to touch myself and my heart stops pounding and I find it easier to breathe.

Finally I let out one last shaky breath and then from there I feel a little bit more normal again. Not normal, of course, because I was still stuck in a body that didn’t belong to me and in a timeline that I’d never lived through. But normal enough all the same, all things considered.

In the distance the party is still pounding. I check the time and see there is maybe an hour left in it and I move to stand only to realize how exposed I still am. Dress all disheveled and pushed up and pulled down. Bra out of place and panties slipping down my thighs and I’m sure my hair is all messed up as well, I’m sure my face is flushed and I’ve got the look of someone who is freshly fucked, even if that’s not exactly the truth.

It's certainly close enough.

So I make do. I pull and rearrange my clothes and I try to smooth over my hair and I go to stand and return to the path, only to decide that maybe there is a better option. Instead of forward I go back, turning away from the pounding beat of the music and pushing through the bushes behind me until I stumble out into a clearing and start to walk, to find my footing again.

There are buildings around me, dark windows and tall brick. I move towards the edges of one where there is a lamp post illuminating the ground like a puddle of yellow light. Haven’t decided yet whether I’m going back to the party but I know that before I make any choice I’ll need to at least make sure I’m presentable so I walk up to the light, to the door that has a clear window in which I can see my reflection, and set about doing my best to make sure that I look decent. That I don’t look like a woman who has been pressed up against a brick wall, who has been stumbling through the bushes, who has had the hands of a man all over her tonight.

Even if that’s precisely what I am and what I’ve done.

I don’t think I’m ready to accept that yet.

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