My Coworker Kim

This story follows on about 6 months after "Kim's Night Alone", where she reveals she was abused in an earlier relationship. I have grown rather fond of Kim while writing these stories and couldn't leave it where I had, I needed her to have some closure on this.

There is no sex in this story, and the events in this story are referenced but do not have a material impact on future stories.

It does include suicide ideation, physical and sexual abuse. If you're not comfortable with those, you can skip this part without missing anything in the overarching story.

Chapter 1

Kim had started therapy, taking me up on my offer to pay for her to work through her abuse at the hands of that fucking animal, Matthew.

I was terrified the psych would convince Kim she was only seeing me as a way of coping and that once she was treated, she would not need me. Or that I was treating her badly and she would be better off without me.

But I loved Kim with all my heart and if leaving me was what she needed to finally put this behind her, well. I would be next in therapy. Losing Kim would destroy me.

I promised Kim I would never ask about her therapy, but if she needed to talk about something that came up during the sessions, I would make myself available for her at any time.

She had gone through a dozen sessions when she asked to talk. My stomach almost dropped out of my body and my heart felt like it was going to implode. She must have heard the tone of my voice change.

"I promise you, I am not leaving you. I am not changing our relationship. I love you far too much." Kim had said. "But there are some things you need to know."

This comforted me a bit, and we caught up at our place. Ruby gave us some space, heading out to do some shopping and have a coffee date with a guy she was hoping to fuck.

I made us some coffees, and we sat out on the patio. Kim started.

"So, we've been talking about why I like the types of sex I do. She believes the reason why I am such a dirty little slut for you is because of what I went through with that asshole. But as he was my first real sexual partner, we can't be sure. Maybe I always was going to be a whore for the right man, guess I'm lucky that's you. She was shocked when I told her all the things I've done for you. All the things you've done to me." Kim paused and I saw her rubbing her thighs together, remembering the things we've done together. "When we started going deeper, we discussed all the safeguards and measures we have in place to keep me safe."

"I told her, in no uncertain terms, that I do not want our relationship to change. I thoroughly enjoy doing the things I do for you. She was a little concerned about that. So, we spent another session just talking about our relationship."

"She's still not entirely convinced, but she acknowledges that so long as we keep the safeguards we have in place, we can keep going as we are. Especially after I told her who was paying for my sessions, and that you've promised to never ask about them."

"She did want me to ask you a question though." Kim said tentatively, not looking at me. "And please answer honestly, don't tell me what you think I need to hear."

I knew what was coming, and my blood ran cold. That pit in my stomach opened.

"What would you do if she told me I would be better off leaving you?" Kim asked quietly.

My heart stopped, my world started crashing down around me and I started hyperventilating. I broke out into a cold sweat, struggling to breathe. This was a panic attack the likes of which I had not experienced before. Kim moved to me, straddling my legs. She placed a hand on my chest and stared into my eyes, her other hand stroking my hair gently. I stared back, eyes wide as my breath failed to come. Heart pounding in my chest and threatening to escape my body. My body shutting down at just the mere suggestion of not having her in my life.

"Please, answer me." She said softly, lovingly.

I tried to stop the tears forming in my eyes and swallow the lump in my throat.

"Let you go." I managed to breathe out. I would, if that is what she needed. But fuck me if it wouldn't tear my heart into tiny pieces and scatter it to the winds.

Kim threw her arms around me. "I'm so sorry daddy, I told her that would be your answer. But she wanted me to ask anyway, she said if that was your answer, and I believed you..."

Kim held me close, stroking my hair as my breathing returned to normal. "I am so sorry, please don't hate me."

"Never." I whispered, slowly coming back to myself. I knew why the question had been asked. Why it had to be asked and, importantly, answered honestly.

Chapter 2

Kim wanted to tell the important people in her life about her abuse. She told Ben, and he absolutely lost his mind, demanding to know where Matthew was so he could murder the prick. It took a while for Kim to calm him down. After that, Kim asked me to be present to help her deal with any emotional outbursts.

Our first person to tell was Stacey. Kim was friends with Stacey during her ordeal, and as her oldest and closest friend, Kim felt she deserved to know before we told Nat, Ruby and the rest of her friends.

We met at Stacey's for dinner. After dinner, Kim reached for my hand as I saw her swallow and take a deep breath.

"Stacey, I need to tell you something." Kim said.

Stacey stiffened, recognising that something serious was about to happen, but she was not prepared for what was about to hit her.

"It's about Matthew." Kim said.

Stacey's whole demeanour changed in an instant. Her eyes flashed with anger, cheeks flushing and breathing coming in shorter, shallower breaths.

"That fucking scum." She spat, "I was hoping to never hear that prick's name again."

Kim explained what had happened with Steve when she was blowing him, how she had a flashback to Matthew and what he did to her when she gave her first blowjob to a guy. How I had convinced her to go into therapy.

"You told me you were seeing a psych. I figured you'd tell me why when you were ready." Stacey said.

"I should have told you what happened long ago." Kim acknowledged.

"What happened with Matthew?" Stacey asked hesitantly. "You never told me."

Stacey knew the relationship had been abusive, and had tried to get through to Kim on multiple occasions back when she was with Matthew. But she couldn't break through the control he had over Kim at the time.

"I'm so sorry I never listened to you at the time, or that I haven't confessed before now. I just balled it all up and tried to ignore it. I was so embarrassed I let myself get used like I did. I just wanted it to go away and be in the past, but I guess things never stay that way." Kim said quietly.

She then launched into the abuse she had suffered at the hands of Matthew.

Kim explained how he started small, then escalated. Stacey alternating between horror, anger, compassion as Kim detailed how Matthew had normalised the abuse. The way he beat her for any small or perceived sleight or sign of defiance from Kim. The way he gaslit Kim into believing she deserved it, that it was all her fault. Something he was, thankfully, never fully able to do.

Then, Kim culminated her story in the ultimate abuse, the Poker Nights, or as they came to be known, the "Poke-Her" Nights.

The first time she'd told me this part I felt like I was going to throw up I was so horrified and enraged.

Matthew and his mates had weekly poker games. Kim started out being made to serve them drinks and snacks during these nights. Nothing unusual there, everything was above board.

After a while, Matthew made her wear skimpier and skimpier clothes on these nights. Wearing more makeup, lingerie and doing her hair for it. Kim complained that his friends were creeps, who were trying to get looks up the tiny skirt she was eventually made to wear. He beat her, saying that she was his to display as he saw fit.

After the week she complained, she was forced to skip any panties under the skirt. She begged him not to do this, but he beat her again. Saying she belonged to him, and he paid for her clothes so she would wear what he told her to.

A few weeks later, she found the outfit she had to wear for the night. It was a tiny maids outfit from an adult shop. The skirt was so short it hid nothing; there were holes where her nipples were. She would basically be fully on display for Matthew and his friends.

She had cried all day as Matthew threatened to beat her again unless she put it on, did her make up and serve the guys. So, she did. This was also the week the guys started touching her. As she moved around the table, they would reach out and stroke her legs or grab her ass. Later in the night, they were groping her tits and rubbing her between her legs. Matthew just smirking the whole time, watching as they groped and fondled her.

Kim had cried herself to sleep that night.

The next week, she again begged Matthew to stop it and was again beaten and told she should be grateful for the attention. He always hit her so the bruises didn't show in normal clothes. But this time, she ended up with a black eye and split lip.

I looked at Stacey. She was angry, very angry. I could see, and hear, her grinding her teeth. Her whole body was rigid, eyes wide and staring at Kim as she detailed her abuse.

Things escalated again the next week, and this was when the term "Poke-Her" originated.

This week, the winner of each hand got Kim on his lap for 2 minutes. He could do anything he wanted, but his cock had to stay in his pants. Kim had to sit there, on a guy's lap while he felt her up, kissed her, forced his fingers in her pussy. Or ass. All while the other guys watched, usually touching themselves while she was felt up and fingered. She learnt after the first night to lube herself up and keep that lube handy. They didn't care that it hurt if she wasn't wet.

At this point, Stacey was absolutely livid. She had stopped grinding her jaw, but only because she was clenching it so hard I wondered if she was going to crack her teeth. But it got worse. So much worse.

After a month or so of this, the winner of the night was told he would get jacked off by Kim. She was forced to strip naked in front of them all, kneel and jack the guy off on to her tits. Kim spent that first week literally begging on her knees for Matthew not to do this. Each time she begged, Matthew beat her. Eventually resorting to using a cane on her while she was tied to the bed, screaming in agony. When the weekend rolled around, she had multiple bruised ribs, bruising to her torso and open cane marks across her back, ass and thighs.

I could see Stacey shaking, her face almost glowing red. She had gone past furious, gone past rage. Her hands were gripping the table so hard her knuckles were white.

Kim then got to the story of her first blowjob. That was bad enough, but what happened on the next poker night was absolutely horrifying.

She was now to be naked the entire night, except for heels and thigh-high stockings. She still had to sit on the guys laps at the end of each hand to be groped and fingered. But now, the overall winner got a blowjob from Kim. She had to blow the guy in front of everybody. And she had to swallow.

Stacey jumped to her feet, sending the chair she was in clattering across the room and slamming into the kitchen island.

"ASSHOLE!" She screamed, making Kim and I jump. "MOTHERFUCKING ASSHOLE!"

All her beauty had gone, her features contorted with pure rage. She started pacing, her whole body trembling. She walked up to the wall behind the kitchen table where Kim and I were sitting. Then put her fist through the wall, screaming. Kim and I jumped again. The scream turned from anger to pain.

She withdrew her hand, knuckles cut and bleeding. I moved to help her, but she screamed at me.

"Don't youdarefucking touch me you fucking creep!" Stacey shouted, eyes blazing at me.

I froze, unsure where this was coming from. Though I could take an educated guess. Kim told her everything about our nights together. The similarities between what Kim did for me, and what she was forced to do for Matthew were there. Plain as day. And far too close for comfort.

"How many people have you told?" Stacey raged at Kim.

Kim stammered, "Uhh, Ben and..."

It was really only Ben, her therapist and I. But Stacey didn't seem to be thinking clearly at the moment. And I couldn't exactly blame her.

"You couldn't even tell your oldest fucking friend first!" Stacey shouted. "I was the one who was fucking there for you. Who picked you up when you needed me and didn't push for any fucking details. Do you know how many sleepless fucking nights I spent wondering, worrying and fucking praying I wouldn't get a call from the police, or your family saying you were in the fucking hospital? Or worse?"

Kim sat there, in complete shock. Her eyes shining as tears started forming. This is certainly not how either of us had expected this to go. Then Stacey rounded on me.

"And you!" She jabbed a finger from her undamaged hand my way. "How fucking long have you known?"

I swallowed, "About 6 months."

"6 fuckingMONTHS?!" She continued raging. "And you still share her like a fucking trophy, knowing what she went through?! You're a fucking piece of shit, just like fucking Matthew."

She closed the space between us and slapped me across the face with her good hand. Hard. I saw her put her bodyweight behind it a fraction of a second before I saw stars. Literally stars, my vision took a minute to return to normal. I should have counted myself lucky it was just a slap. Stacey was an amazing MMA fighter. She could have put me in hospital, or the morgue.

I had nothing to say, not that I could have formed a coherent sentence after that. I'd had this discussion with Kim many times. I even asked her to serve my friends and I on our games nights, wearing skimpy lingerie, just like Matthew. The guys were allowed to touch, grope and feel up Kim, just like Matthew. And that was just the games nights.

I stopped asking her to attend after I found out what had happened. She did offer to keep doing it, saying that I was nothing like Matthew and she was happy to do it for my friends and I. She had fucked most of them, after all. But I couldn't, it still hit too close to home. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for a while, despite Kim's assurances.

She turned back to Kim. "6 fucking months to tell me. I thought we were friends. Fuck the both of you!"

She stormed off to her bedroom. Leaving Kim at the table, eyes wide and glassy with tears. Mouth moving, but no words coming out. Stacey slammed her door and Kim flinched like she'd been slapped. That triggered the sobbing. Kim broke down completely. There was a scream and the sound of something breaking as it hit the wall in Stacey's room, Kim flinching again.

I looked at my mistress, at a complete loss as to how to help. Kim was crying her heart out, tears pooling on the table. I felt like my chest was strangling me as my heart broke seeing her like this.

I was fairly certain I had burnt my bridges with Stacey, but right now my only concern was Kim. I pulled her to her feet and held her close, stroking her hair. It felt like I was being torn in two, seeing Kim like this and being unable to fix it.

So, I did the only thing I could. I just held her while she cried. It could have been five minutes or fifty. I had no idea, and I was not about to check the time. Eventually she stopped and just sniffled, holding me tight.

"She'll come around," I said, stroking her hair. "You lived this, you've had years to process this. We just trauma-dumped a years' worth of abuse on her in one go. She's just directing the anger at us because we're here and he isn't. Just give her time."

At a noise behind us, I spun and put myself between Kim and the hallway, holding her behind me with an arm. Stacey was standing there, eyes red from crying. Cradling the arm with the hand she'd put through the wall in the other, in obvious pain. It was her turn to flinch at my movement. She stepped back as I turned, protecting Kim.

"He would never have put himself between Kim and a threat," she said quietly, looking at the ground. "He'd use her as a shield."

Then she looked up at Kim, peeking out from behind me.

"I am so, so sorry," she said softly, tears forming in her eyes. "That you see me as a threat is killing me, I don't blame you after my outburst."

Stacey started sobbing again.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, standing at the end of the hall, cradling her arm and crying uncontrollably. "I... I'm just. What he did. I knew he did things. But never this. I..."

Seeing her standing there alone, broken, cradling her sore hand and crying was heartbreaking. Even despite the insults she had hurled at us, I just wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her. Kim ran out from behind me and threw her arms around Stacey, causing her to cry out in pain as Kim crushed her hand between them.

I immediately started moving for the freezer, looking for an ice pack or a bag of frozen peas. Thankfully I found an ice pack. I grabbed a tea towel and saw Kim guiding Stacey to the dinner table, both girls crying and apologising.

They sat back at the table and I kneeled beside Stacey.

"Show me the hand," I asked gently.

Stacey looked down at me and gingerly gave me her hand. It was almost like she expected me to exact some kind of revenge by hurting her. I was nowhere near that petty and it honestly hurt more than anything she had said, or done, earlier. I gently kissed each knuckle before very, very gently placing the ice pack wrapped in the tea towel on her hand. Stacey wincing as I put light pressure on it.

"I am so sorry," she said, looking down at me. "I just... hearing what he did to my best friend. I... You're nothing like him."

"Stacey, I forgive you. But it's not me you need to apologise to. Coming out and saying this is incredibly difficult and traumatic for Kim. She needs her best friend to support her."

Stacey nodded, she knew. She knew how badly she'd fucked up. But given what she was being told, I couldn't hold it against her. This was a lot to take in. I took Stacey's other hand and gently got her to hold the ice pack on her damaged hand.

"Do you think anything is broken or sprained?" I asked.

Stacey shook her head. I stood and moved to stand behind Kim. I leant down, putting my arms around her, squeezing tightly.

"You OK, baby girl?" I whispered in her ear.

Kim sniffled and nodded. I squeezed again.

"Thank you for being here. I don't know what I'd do without you," Kim said, sniffling again.

Stacey looked at Kim, her normally beautiful grey eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

"Was... was there more? Please tell me." She asked tentatively.

Kim took a breath and said that after she blew Matthew the first time, she begged every day regardless of the beatings to not blow his friends. But, for those last 4 weeks she was with Matthew, she was forced to her knees, a cock pushed into her unwilling mouth and she was face-fucked until the guy blew his load. Given they drank heavily, this meant they usually did not cum quickly, prolonging Kim's torment. Whisky Dick is real.

Stacey was again flushed with rage, and again she spat out, "Motherfucker!"

But at least she didn't lose it completely. She reached around Kim with her good arm and hugged her close.

"If I ever see that motherfucking asshole again, I'm going to rip his fucking balls off and choke him with them," she promised.

"Get in line." I grumbled.

Stacey looked at me, "You hold him, I'll emasculate him?"

"Deal." I smiled back at her.

"I want to talk to you about the things you do to Kim," Stacey said.

"No!" Kim said firmly, sitting up and looking intently at Stacey. "No. I've been through this a dozen times with him and then my psych. We are not going there again. And that is not up for discussion."