Face Your Fears

We open on Ella shaking and spiraling in front of her therapist. Dana looks bored as hell. This is the fifth session where Ella's fallen apart over nothing, and she's done playing nice. Therapy isn't working, so fine. They'll force a breakthrough the blunt way. Ella spends her whole life hiding indoors because she's convinced that if she steps outside someone will touch her, flirt with her, make her feel dirty. Any whiff of sex sends her running. Today the therapist stops giving a shit about boundaries. She has Ella stand, look her in the eyes, and makes the girl promise to obey one single command no matter how crazy it sounds. When Ella nods—hands sweaty, pulse thundering—the trap snaps shut. Moments later Ella finds herself shoved into a pounding nightclub, strobe lights cutting her like knives. Sweat and lust hang thick in the air. Everyone's masked, eyes glassy with booze and hunger. The therapist parks her right in the middle of the crowd and peels her clothes off, slow and nasty. Ella's knees buckle. She whispers no. Then the therapist's husband steps out of the dark, already hard, and Ella understands they're both going to take her there while strangers watch and cheer. Ella swallows the scream in her throat. Maybe it fixes her. Maybe Dana just wants to watch the sweet little recluse get publicly wrecked. Either way, they're not stopping until everyone has seen Ella choke on cock and cum like the slut she swears she never wanted to be.