Despite her best efforts, Mary had been unable to make herself disappear. Instead, she sat on the bench and wished to be anywhere else. The sun was scorching, there was no breeze and the air was humid. Her plan to decompress with some retail therapy had been foiled before she had even reached her destination. She could feel a drop of sweat roll down her forehead, she could feel everybody’s eyes on her. She had speed-walked into town, her stride quicker than her body could handle comfortably. Her legs had burned as her brain told them to walk faster and faster- to get herself away from the people around her and their judgmental gazes. Now she was sitting on a bench. Sweating, aching, intimately aware of her top sticking to her back and the feeling of her body as it hung off of her bones. Her headphones covered her ears, shielding her somewhat from the chattering of the people and pigeons that swarmed around her. No music came from them, it had been paused for 5 minutes now.

Internally, Mary cursed at herself. It was always like this. She rarely ventured out from her cozy and safe apartment; on the odd occasion she did, she would almost instantly regret it. Her olive skin would coat with sweat and her movements would become stiff and robotic. Even with her conservative way of dressing she felt exposed. She longed to have the confidence of those she saw around her. She looked around, trying not to stare too long at any individual. Everywhere she looked she saw something to be jealous of: two friends talking as if it was nothing, a woman wearing a crop top with no fear, somebody wearing a skirt so short it made Mary blush just seeing it. Most of all, she was jealous of women like the woman she could see strolling along the street.

The woman was large, both tall and wide. Mary guessed she must have been at least 6 feet tall. She was the antithesis of Mary. She walked with swagger, each step exuded confidence. The outfit she wore was tight, clinging closely to the skin it covered, although it didn’t cover much. Her midriff, her ample stomach, was exposed. Her jeans lasted the length of her legs but were more tear than denim, allowing her thick thighs to be seen by all passers by. Her jet black hair was tied up messily, the front cut into sharp bangs. The vest she wore left her large, tattooed arms exposed. She had an aura of strength, confidence, and sex appeal. Mary was jealous. She was jealous of this woman’s beauty, of her sexuality and self-assuredness. Her edgy, revealing, and interesting clothes were nothing like the boring tee and jeans Mary was wearing. She looked like a lady who did whatever she wanted. A blush started to build on Mary’s slightly chubby cheeks until she realised that the woman was coming in her direction.

Mary averted her gaze, suddenly becoming intensely interested in the scuff marks on her plain trainers. The woman sat down beside Mary. Casually, she spread her legs out and lay her arm on the backrest. She leant her head back and sighed, Mary could see a build up of sweat on the woman and assumed she’d been walking around all day. For a while, they sat like that. For Mary it was an awkward silence punctuated by her quick and unsubtle glances at the woman. She started to plan her escape, she didn’t want to leave too soon- she didn’t want the woman to feel like she had scared Mary off. She would wait a short time and then do her best to make it seem as though she had somewhere to be and walk off with purpose.

Before she could implement her plan though, her thoughts were suddenly interrupted. A firm grip on her inner thigh made Mary jump with surprise. She turned, flustered and offended by the woman next to her but was greeted by somebody who seemed incredibly concerned and sympathetic towards Mary. 

“You seem really nervous, you okay, honey?” the concerned woman asked, without loosening or otherwise varying her intense and intimate clutch of Mary’s mid-thigh. Mary was perplexed. This woman had committed an obvious violation of personal space and social norms and yet her tone was so sincere, her worry so genuine, that Mary couldn’t help but stutter out a reassuring reply.

“Y-yeah! I’m just bad with the heat.” She stated, stumbling over her words due to a mix of her anxiety and her confusion over the situation. She wanted this woman to leave, to stop touching her and to go away but she also didn’t want this woman to feel guilt or worry about her.

“Are you sure? You look like a startled deer and you haven’t stopped fidgeting since I sat down,” as she said this, she started to stroke her thumb along Mary’s thigh. The sudden friction made her gasp and she shivered at the unexpected and unwanted affection. 

“You remind me of how I used to be, you have anxiety right?” 

She couldn’t help but nod in response. It was true. The woman didn’t stop her invasive attempt at physical comfort as she frowned, showing sympathy for Mary’s stressful condition. With her free hand, the hand that wasn’t gently and intrusively caressing Mary’s thigh, the woman reached into her shoulder bag. She rustled around for a few seconds before proudly pulling out an amber pill bottle. Seeing this, Mary started to sweat more than she had been before. She had never done drugs, she barely took paracetamol and yet she was in a situation where a strangely alluring yet invasive woman, who she had been subtly checking out a few minutes prior, was seemingly about to offer her some pills while maintaining a possessive but subtly comforting grip on her leg.

“My doctor gave me these. You would not believe how helpful they are, I really think you should take some.” The woman reached out her hand, offering the container. Her eyes still showed the concern from before but it was darker now. A sinister energy had overtaken her face. Mary could see that her eyes were open unsettlingly wide, her reassuring smile seemed to twist almost into a sadistic sneer until Mary would blink and lose sight of it. Mary knew she shouldn’t take these drugs. Whatever they were, even if they were helpful, Mary knew it would not be good to take them. But Mary was scared, this woman was intimidating, her presence overwhelmed Mary’s mind, she was intrusive and she was caressing such an intimate part of Mary’s body. She was also incredibly attractive, despite the overreach and her logical objections, Mary’s face had been beet-red for the last few minutes. Slowly, she raised her hand and took the pill bottle off of the woman.

“Good girl.”

Mary shivered, she couldn’t stop now. Her head was full of self-deprecating thoughts, she kept thinking about how much of a push-over she was being. Her fear of conflict, affinity for domineering women, and social anxiety- all traits she cursed as she uncapped the bottle and poured out three of the plain, white, powdery pills into her hand. She looked pleadingly at the women next to her, whether she was desperate for permission to stop, a drink to wash them down, or some sign that this was all a horrific joke, she didn’t know. The woman just stared back at her, unblinking. Superficially, her face remained in the sympathetic expression from before, but each feature hid a perverted giddiness. Mary started to shake- silently shouting at herself, she shook the pills in her hand and threw them into her mouth, swallowing them roughly as the pills left a vile powdery residue coating her tongue.

Her throat ached, she couldn’t tell if it was the strange medicine or a result of her holding back tears. She waited. The woman did nothing. Mary looked expectantly at her and tried not to think about what was going to happen.

It was abrupt, an extreme sense of lightheadedness, as if she had stood up too fast. It didn’t fade, instead it proliferated throughout her body. An involuntary “woah” left her lips as she dealt with the sudden sensation. It was nice, it reminded Mary of the feeling of falling. As the sensation of weightlessness spread throughout her whole being, Her fear and apprehension started to fade. It’s not that she was no longer concerned about her situation, but the feeling -of giddiness which was building up in her chest was overriding her rational thoughts.

Mary let out a sharp gasp. The woman had suddenly begun to roughly grope Mary’s thigh. Her strong fingers were forcefully exploring the soft piece of flesh which they had previously been gently caressing. While Mary’s breath hitched, confused and pleased by the woman’s intense kneading, the woman grinned and whispered to her.

“Such a dumb, needy girl. Aren’t you? It’s okay, honey, you don’t need to feel bad anymore. I’ll look after you.”

The words were genuine. Mary could tell- despite all of her past artifice: the manipulation and faux concern- the woman’s words now were real. She felt a warmth grow in her chest as she squirmed on the bench. Mary was losing her ability to see the woman as a predator, she was saying such nice things and making her feel so good. Her quickly simplifying mind didn’t understand how a woman providing all of this pleasure could be bad.

Emboldened by Mary’s clear excitement, the woman’s hand ventured up her thigh. Mary let out a quiet, excited moan. She was becoming so horny, her pussy was getting so needy. It was desperate to feel the woman’s rough, possessive touch. This obvious violation, despite being so appealing to her fog-filled and horny brain, caused a moment of recognition. This wasn’t right- Mary was acting like a hedonist, she was letting this stranger violate her. Weakly, she attempted to pull away from the women, she muttered objections and put all of her effort into getting away. The result was laughable, her acts of resistance were nearly indistinguishable from her lewd wriggling, her “no’s” and “stop’s” were mixed in with “more’s” and unintelligible moans.

The woman’s fingers calmed down as they reached the damp spot in Mary’s jeans. They slowed back down to the gentle caressing of earlier. This caused a needy whine to dribble from Mary’s open mouth. Despite this, the woman persisted in her slow and deliberate strokes. Mary’s hips bucked as she tried to milk all the pleasure she could out of the woman’s fingers but it wasn’t until she seemed truly desperate that the woman sped up. Even through the damp denim, each stroke made Mary’s mind melt- she could no longer feel the presence of those around her, she wasn’t worrying about the way her clothes fit or if she was breathing too loud; All she was able to do was to pant and moan, to thrash and beg for more. If her mind was clear, she would have seen that there were people staring- the erotic and wanton display she was putting on almost demanded observation. But she didn’t notice, so she didn’t care- she couldn’t care.

The pleasure built and built and the woman kept whispering reassurances into Mary’s ears. In absence of any other thought, these sweet sayings filled her head and became part of her. She was a good girl, a sweet girl, a pretty girl. She was a slut who loved attention but who didn’t care what people thought. She loved to obey, especially to the woman who had rescued her. These mantras took the places of insecurities developed over a lifetime. The woman grinned- the shy ones were always so needy. They were so vulnerable to her conditioning because they were so eager for somebody to validate them. She felt pride as she compared the shy girl’s former expression, so scared and nervous, to the one she wore currently. Drool trickled down her chin and her eyes were in the half state between open and closed. Her head rolled back as she struggled to sit-up because of the pleasure. Her grunts and moans grew louder until the woman knew she was on the edge.

Mary came. All of her previous troubles, her anxiety and insecurities, spilled out of her as she quivered on the park bench. Even though there had been no direct stimulation, it was the best she had ever felt. The woman withdrew her hand and the pleasure began to subside but her thoughts didn’t return. Instead, she started to giggle. Mary didn’t know why she was giggling- she didn’t know anything at all- it just felt right. She clumsily turned her head to look adoringly at the nice lady who had made her feel so good and was greeted by somebody who seemed incredibly proud of Mary. She didn’t know why the woman was looking at her like that, but it made her happy nonetheless.

The woman stood-up, turned to Mary and reached out her hand.

“Come with me, sweetie. I have a place waiting just for you.” She spoke so definitively, it wasn’t a request but a command. Eagerly, Mary jumped to her feet and clutched the beckoning hand. As the woman began confidently making her way home with Mary giddily stumbling behind her, each of them thought about how happy they were to have met the stranger on the bench.