From Wrong Tree Review. Suckers.

Choked

I’ve been choked by two men in one week. Both men were named Dave.

The first man who choked me was a thirty year old African-American man. I was sitting and he was standing. He came closer and closer reaching out towards my neck with purposeful zombie arms. His eyes met mine and I couldn’t say anything.

My eyes invited it, maybe.

I sat on my hands while his went around my neck. Huge and strong they squeezed and shook. My head filled, my eyes swelled. I suddenly felt like I wanted to be fucked and right when I opened my mouth to say stop, he slowly released and told me that I liked that. There were no words I could find to respond. I only could nod. He laughed in a way that said I told you so and then he left. I sat on my hands for a moment longer before bringing them up around my neck to investigate; so warm.

The second man who choked me was 66 years old. I was standing and he was sitting. He looked quickly from side to side before reaching up and putting his hands around my neck. I didn’t have a chance to say anything. My eyes met his; they looked both angry and satisfied. I held on as long as I could while my head throttled back and forth like a slippery fish.

I took it, and when he finished, I just nodded and he wiped his mouth and panted along with me.

The walk away was shaky and stunned.

One week, two men, two Dave’s, both choking and what does this mean? I am asking myself this when I am sitting. I am asking myself this when I am standing. I am asking myself this in the shower. I am asking myself this when I shake the bed with it at night.

I worry about riding the subway now, or getting my sink fixed, or asking for directions, or running into men named Dave or men in general; what if it’s Steves next or Jims? I stare at men’s hands now but it’s different. I study them. I commit them to memory; color, length, thickness, width. I hold my head higher, helping their target lengthen; the shortest skirt on stocking-topped thighs down the darkest alley, but still, I walk, and wait and want.