NamelessShadow
Posts: 2
Joined: 5/21/2005
Status: offline
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Gotta Love That Sex (the pain of sex addiction)
I gave all I had
My techniques got better and better
My rep got worse and worse
I was addicted
In heat
Writhing in torture without a touch
To be in cheap ecstasy was all that mattered
No less than once a week or my hands would shake
My back would arch
My skin would grow hot
Just a penetration
A meaningless, loveless, faithless act
A quick fix
Some dick is all
Then I would be used
Then I would be filled
Dozens of cheap thrills
Making love was a long lost dream my heart was not included
Just my mouth and cunt were gold
My mind could go to hell
And it did
It stayed there until I found the miracle of love
Love-it seemed such a far-fetched myth
How could I explore it with my legs together?
That was what I knew
That was how I connected
But I waited and it was great until my abated heat flared
Goddamn that fucking sex addiction
The most psychologically controlling of them all
A drug whose overdose can kill you or maybe just your dreams
An addiction that can that can kill your relationships; friends, lovers, etc…
It’s so addictive, so unstoppable
Six hours of steamy sex bathed in red light
But lacking trust, lacking love
What’s it even about?
Breaking the addiction is the only way to rid yourself of the endless fuck line because it never stops
There are always dicks and pussies waiting
Tell yourself it doesn’t matter unless you want it to
Tell it’s not what you want or need
You’ll find it’s true
Sex can’t be a crutch
A tool to use when you feel like shit
Eventually it gets worse and worse and could be your downfall before you quit
Life sells sex as a drug
It’s the only drug I bought
But it hasn’t been my downfall like that ex-girlfriend thought
I broke it
I broke the line
I’m so much happier now
That I know
One guy and kegels are the way to go
I’m so much healthier mentally and physically
Thank god that fucking sex addiction didn’t permanently overpower me
Untitled (the pain of rape)
Invaded
Intruded upon
Violated
Taken
How wrong it is to have your soul ripped in half
The cruelty of stealing something so sacred
You say she’s a whore
She’s confused
She wants to be loved
She wants to be needed
She wants to be talented
She thinks its her purpose to do what others want
Now she is torn
Now she is stolen and hurt
Healing takes a long, long time
It takes so long to regrow a soul
How can she live missing her soul?
How can she be the way she was?
She gave herself away but it wasn’t enough
She was taken
She was hurt
She was broken and torn
She was crying as he finished
So tired and confused
Why wasn’t it enough to give herself to him before?
Why did he have to take her?
Hurt her more and more
Now she is healing
But she isn’t the same
She doesn’t have enough soul to give herself away again
She’s found equilibrium
A balance of some sort
Rape is such a pretty word
The effects are so much worse
To all:
I was abused as a toddler and perhaps as a result or maybe despite that I had rape fantasies since I started thinking about sex. I started getting kinky around 14 and more consciously after, but guys my age were so inexperienced and older guys were so scared to do anything out of the ordinary for legal fear so my rape fantasy went unexplored. I was getting into rougher play and had tried to pursue a rape role-play situation with the boyfriends that I really trusted but none could stomach it. When I was a sophomore a former vanilla fuck buddy raped me. He knew nothing of my fantasies and was probably on drugs when he came to my house requesting emotional support (we were still friends). A hug turned into an attempt at kissing and I refused cuz I had a bf at the time and I told him this and that I wouldn't cheat. He replied by sticking his hand up my shirt. My older sister was downstairs and I knew that if I screamed she would come castrate the guy but I was too nice/submissive to get someone maimed or killed for taking advantage of me. I thought I could reason with him after he got my shirt off. That obviously didn't help when he was pushing my hands away as he tried to take of my pants. I was telling him to stop, that I wouldn't cheat and that I didn't want to have sex with him but he never stopped. He didn't get violent but he was insistent and my mind went blank in confusion. I probably could've run out the door. I could have screamed and my sister would have killed him. I could have kneed him in the balls. But between the fact that I was attracted to him, and had programmed myself to be responsive (sex addiction was tough to break) made my mind zone out totally not to mention the fact that my head was spinning "Why didn't he stop? I don't get it. Didn't he hear me?" simply because I had known him for years and would not expect him to take me by force. If I had struggled it wouldn't have mattered much (may have helped my conscience however) He was over 6 feet tall and a football player. I'm 5 feet tall and he outweighed me by at least 50lbs of muscle. With my sex addiction I was automatically tuning out my mind and my body was responding to what I had programmed it to. I was very still and passive cuz I knew he finished very quickly and I probably would have just been kinda pissed at him afterwards but when he went for a round 2 on me I freaked. I thrashed and was thinking sooo much while completely disconnected from my body. While not in touch with my body I think I had 1 or 2 orgasms from habit almost. I was not happy with what was happening but I couldn't stop my body from responding. This does not mean that I enjoyed it. I suffered post-traumatic stress and went into counseling after this. I felt guilty for not having been more resistant to him. I was uncomfortable calling it rape so I called it a fuck which left an unusual nasty taste in my mouth for the first time. I finally came to grips with that fact that I said "no" in so many words and that it needs to be respected no matter how bad you think you know what someone needs. The worst part of it, besides realizing how my sex addiction had hurt me and my body connection, was that my rape fantasy had been tainted. I know could not entertain the fantasy in my head without first person-oriented negativity. That rape role-play goal with a loving, trust-worthy partner was almost ruined. I knew it could never be the same because I knew how I would react in the real situation and I didn't want to feel it again but I still had a rape fantasy when I could forget the pain of my actual experience. I more recently did a rape role-play. It was mostly my verbal protests and struggling while handcuffed and fucked. It was with a partner I trusted and he allowed me to cuddle and cry in his arms afterwards. It was therapeutic in a way. Maybe because I felt guilty for being so passive in the real situation and the outcome was not changed even when I did those things in the role-play situation. I wanted to relate this to CollarMe because I know that some women have had similar experienced to mine (specifically orgasm during rape) and it is not advertised of course because rape should not be associated with pleasure. What our bodies experience can be the opposite of our minds and realizing that I was not sick for what I felt was such a relief and I was very angry that I had not been informed before that it was possible. I hope that this can help even one person come to grips with any issues they may still have. If you would like to pass judgments on me please keep it to yourself I do not care to hear it. If this helps anyone feel free to say so or not.
< Message edited by NamelessShadow -- 5/21/2005 7:02:57 PM >
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Poetry and comments about my past sex addiction and rape - 
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RE: Poetry and comments about my past sex addiction and... - 
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