I peered through the smallest of gaps in the Gents door. She headed for her desk, unlocked the drawers and carefully picks out a manila folder, holdin... it tightly to her heaving chest. A deep breath, quick glance round and she’s moving again.She passes me. Seems focused. On a mission. She turns at the end of the corridor. I slip out of the toilets and follow her, still in my running shorts and vest, still with the back up that I’m heading for the showers. My heart is pounding. I can cover that,. You are nothing but a piece of meat for someone else's lusts. You are no longer a person, you are a thing.I remember the first time I was raped, I even remember his name.Herakles.Herakles the Hero.Herakles the Pirate.Herakles, who held me down with one hand while he ripped my clothes off with the other. Herakles who forced himself on me while stinking of blood and smoke and wine. That was the Herakles I knew.My view of him was not the stuff of legend. Would you praise the man who forced himself. More

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