BY: Marie Johnstone
...
Eventually we pulled into the carport of a small, dreary, gray ranch-style aluminum-siding house, and Barney said I could take off the blindfold. Those were the first words he had spoken since "Have you got the money?"
The carport door led into a somewhat dingy kitchen, where the woman stood. Steamy and overheated, it smelled like last night's fried food and boiled greens. She took the money. Barney disappeared. The woman pointed me into a small room that led off a short, dark hallway just beyond the kitchen, said to put my coat on the chair and remove my panties, Barney would be here right away. In the room was a wooden table similar to the one in my parents' kitchen. There were two chairs and another, smaller table on which there was a pitcher of water alongside a basin, some paper cups and a small stack of towels. The room had faded wallpaper with rows of brownish designs that looked like stalks of wheat.
Barney entered, minus his overcoat. He could have been anyone's bad caricature of a greasy-haired used car salesman. He had on a white shirt and red striped tie, both pretty much the worse for wear. Had I not been hypnotically bound into it myself, the entire scene would have seemed so like a bad B movie as to be funny. It was not funny at the time. Barney said to lie on my back on the table. This won't hurt, he said. I felt something being inserted into my vagina, something smaller than a tampon. It was over in a matter of minutes. Barney said to put my panties back on and he'd be in the car. I wondered later if he had washed his hands, before or after. ...
The doctor said, Who did this to you? Nobody, I said, I just went ice skating and had a bad fall. After a few moments of uncomfortable probing, mentally and physically, he said, You are one of the lucky ones. He gave me a prescription to fill and told me to come back in a month, sooner if I had problems.
