“So what do you think I should do with these girls?” Mike asked. “I’ve got everything from Oksana, registered virgin and orphan with nowhere to go to… you, I suppose. I assume you have somewhere to go back to?”
“If I could face it,” Daria said. “My parents told me not to leave. They did not like my boyfriend.”
“Looking them in the eye will be tough,” Mike admitted. “But… ‘home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.’ ”
“And where is your home?” Daria asked.
Mike stopped and blinked. Home still meant the U.S. to him. His parents were dead; he hadn’t talked to his sister in… years.
“Thanks for asking,” Mike said, frowning. “The answer is, I don’t have one.”
“You should have a home,” Daria said, frowning in turn. “You are a good man, you should have a good home.”
“I suppose it’s with the Keldara,” Mike replied, still frowning. “They are the closest thing to family I have. For years, home was the Navy, the Teams and BUD/S. I was married, but that came apart after I got out. Now… I don’t know.”
“You should marry again,” Daria said definitely.
“When I find the right girl, maybe,” Mike replied. The sun was slowly descending to the west and the temperature was dropping steadily. He wasn’t bothered by it, he’d gotten used to far worse on beaches all over the world, but the girls were getting out of the water and shivering. “Looks like time for dinner,” he added, standing up.
Daria followed him as he headed back to the hotel and he turned to look at her, quirking an eyebrow.
“I was wondering…” the girl said, then shrugged. “It is nothing.”
“Tell you what,” Mike said, quirking one cheek up. “Let’s talk about it upstairs.”
When they got to his room, Mike waved her to a chair and flopped on the bed, propping up some pillows behind him.
“One of the things we haven’t done on this op is introduce a consistent rape counselling program,” Mike said. “Or an abuse counselling program. Why? Because we’re on a combat op and it’s not important to the operation. And, frankly, we don’t have any counselors. Maybe we should bring in some touchy-feely types to cover the bases, but we haven’t. I haven’t. Comments?”
“Why should you care?” Daria asked, shrugging one shoulder.
“If it’s affecting the mission,” Mike said. “We’re stuck with you girls for the time being. If you’re not functional, it affects the mission.”
“We’re functional,” Daria said, angrily. “And you’re not stuck with us.”
“Yes, I am,” Mike replied. “You’re aware of who we are and what we’re doing. If we just dropped you off on the street, the news would get around. Besides, as part of my not being a nice guy, but trying to act like one, I can’t just drop you on a street corner. So I’m stuck with you. And if you’re getting huffy about that and decide you’re going to storm out, you’ll discover we’ve got plenty of rigger tape.”
“Rigger tape?” Daria asked, confused.
“Duct tape, then,” Mike said, rolling over and pulling a roll out of his jump bag.
“We’re still prisoners, then,” Daria said.
“Yep,” Mike replied. “Just like before. But we’re not planning on killing you as part of sexual funs and games. Only real difference. Oh, and you’re not going to get raped. And we’ll try really hard not to raise a hand to you. But, yeah, you’re still prisoners. It’s just a more comfortable jail.”
“Then why don’t you rape me?” Daria said, breathing hard.
“Don’t tempt me,” Mike said. “Seriously. Don’t. You’re a real looker. And the reason is, I try to act like a nice guy.”
“What if I told you I wanted you to?” Daria said, looking down at the floor and blushing. “What if I told you that as much as I hated what happened to me… I liked it as well?”
“Then I’d tell you that I’m not a rape counsellor,” Mike replied with a dismissive shrug. “I’d also tell you that you’re not alone. Bum magnets tend to end up in abusive relationships. I would guess that your bum boyfriend occasionally slapped you around, right?”
“Yes,” Daria said, looking up. “I should have stopped him, but…”
“You loved him and he loved you,” Mike finished for her, shrugging. “It ain’t love, honey, it’s abuse syndrome. Hell, it’s being a submissive. Not necessarily sexually, but in general. You probably felt like you deserved it, that it was all your fault.”
“Are you in my head?” Daria asked angrily. “Is this some sort of mind thing?”
“No, it’s being old enough and experienced enough to have had the conversation before,” Mike said, shrugging again. “You’re hardly alone. Abuse like that happens all over, honey, even in the United States. You never had sex with your boyfriend?”
“No,” Daria said, blushing again. “I drew the line there, even when he became angry. And he only hit me when he was drunk. One time he tried to…”
“Rape you,” Mike said.
“I was going to say force me,” Daria replied. “It was not really rape—”
“Yeah, it is,” Mike snapped. “Date rape is rape. Period fucking dot. So you drew the line there, now what?”
“Now…” Daria said and stopped.
“You said that some of the abuse you enjoyed?” Mike asked calmly.
“I should not,” Daria said, dropping her face in her hands. “I think I am a very bad person.”
“Item number sixty-two of the checklist,” Mike said, chuckling.
“What is so funny?” Daria snapped, glaring at him.
“You were brought up to be a very good girl,” Mike said, still smiling. “To not have sex until you are married. But you feel the want of it?”
“Yes,” Daria admitted. “Very much.”
“I won’t ask if that’s an ‘especially now’ answer,” Mike said. “But the point is, if you’re forced ,then it’s not your fault. If a man makes you do it, you are not so bad a person. It is one of the reasons that you want to be forced, to be made to have sex. Yes?”
“I… hadn’t thought of it that way,” Daria admitted.
“If you are tied, how can it be your fault?” Mike asked. “But if you still like it, that still makes you a bad person inside. So you want to be hurt for being a bad girl. Am I close?”
“Yes,” Daria answered quietly.
“All right,” Mike said, shrugging. “Let’s talk about that. Part of it might be because of the rape. But… did you ever think that way before the rape? I mean, did you fantasize about things like that when you masturbated?”
“That’s a very personal question!” Daria snapped.
“This is a personal conversation,” Mike replied. “The question is, did these feelings come about as a result of the rape, or did you have them before?”
“Some of them…” Daria said, softly. “Some of them before.”
“There are books and books written about what you’re feeling,” Mike said. “The term is sexual submission. Lucky for me, I tend to run into them a lot since I’m a sexual dominant. Opposites attract and all that. The point is, you’re not bad for feeling that way. It’s a normal, hell probably a majority, feeling in women. It’s even a desire in some men. So the first thing to get into your noggin is that you’re not evil for feeling that way.”
“It feels… wrong,” Daria said. “Bad.”
“And some women enjoy being told how bad they are,” Mike said. “That’s all fine and dandy, as long as it’s really a consensual thing between two rational adults. Or more, sometimes. The point is, it’s okay to feel that way, okay to play out those fantasies. As long as you know where to draw the line. The term is ‘the bedroom door.’ As long as your fantasies are play, whether it’s in a bedroom or a living room or the kitchen, the whole house or on a mountainside, as long as the play ends at an agreed upon point, it’s just fun.”