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About 40 minutes later the van stopped, the door opened and I was dragged along, what felt like grass. I was thrown to the ground and the bag removed from my head. It was dark out and could just make out two men running away. I heard the van drive off and lay still on the cold grass, sobbing as I held the blanket tight.
I am not sure how much time passed but I suddenly looked up and saw to boys on bicycles stand towering over me. I managed enough strength to ask if they could help me and they agreed. They stared at my nakedness as I tried to wrap the blanket around me. I told them where I lived and they helped me home. Fortunately it was dark and I saw no people. They left me at my front door, but I had no keys. I walked around the back, lifted a spare key from a flower pot and opened the door. I immediately headed for the shower and stayed there for an hour.
As time passed the pain and trauma began to wear off. I was afraid to tell my husband or my boss and consequently never mentioned the event to anyone. A few months later a strange thing began to happen. I started to feel twinges of excitement when I relived certain aspects of the ordeal. This lead to masturbating while I fantasized and the ecstasy grew. I decided I needed help so I contacted a psychiatrist. After a few sessions he suggested I was very submissive in sex and needed to become more dominant.
In order to do this he recommended a BDSM club, where he said I could find less submissive people than myself. I attended, but unfortunately the prescription backfired. Instead of finding a more submissive person I met a woman who was extremely dominant. We hit it off and became very good friends. She satisfies a sexual need I have and we travel to the club once a month together, to fulfill our fantasies.
The ordeal from so long ago is still vivid in my mind, but instead of terrorizing my thoughts it has becomes fantasy for my sexual needs. I know I am not normal, but I assume it is a way my body and mind chose to deal with the traumatic event.
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