The 'Perfect' Art of Coercion

THE 'PERECT' ART OF COERCION: WHEN 'YES' MEANS 'NO'

She was crying silent tears, clenching her eyes shut and fisting her hands into the fabric below her.

He told her it was okay, that everyone before her did it.

He threatened her job, and then he threatened her son.

He smiled the gentle smile of a friend, while his eyes glinted with a predators thirst.

He said it was for the best, that he would protect her.

He was however, at the same time taking away her sense of safety.

Taking the sanctity she found in honest work.

He took her on the couch in his office.

The one in front of the window facing the city.

He dared her to scream, saying he would turn on the lights and the whole city would see. 

He took her like he owned her very essence. When he was done, he brushed her hair away like a gentle lover but on her skin his fingers felt like snakes crawling.

She stood with as much strength as she could muster.

Her once confident eyes never leaving the wooden floors.

She left the room gripping tightly her clothes, her dignity slipping through her fingers like the fallen shreds of cloth.

She walked to the police and she begged for Justice.

She cried and sobbed and crawled. 

Then she wailed and cursed and begged again.

The all argued the same thing.

She said "Yes".

'Yes', what a mighty word it is.

What a blasted woman she was for saying 'Yes'.

They blamed her like 'No' was an option.

She blamed herself like she believed 'No' was an option.

She went home that night, and clutched her sleeping son while crying silently.

She should have known nobody would listen.

She wasn't like those other women. She hadn't said 'No'.

What a blasted word 'No' is.

She wondered if he would have listened to her 'No'. 

She screamed it in her head several times. 

She wondered if she should have voiced it.

It didn't matter anymore though.

He used a flawless mechanism.

The one greater than the almighty 'No'.

The 'perfect' art of coercion.