Do you ever think *Triggers*

Paint

Registrant
Do you ever think about it? Like really in-depth think about it?
I think about how I was straining so hard I could feel the tendons in my neck popping out and how I could feel the skin of my face being stretched as I screamed.
I think about how that when he would whip me the base would hit first and feel like glass and then the tip would wrap around and it felt like a razor blade.
I think about how the hot saliva that would fill my mouth and how my stomach would roll as I would kneel.
I think about how the wind would hit the burns and make it burn all over again.
I think about how tight the ropes were and how I thought I would lose an arm.

I mostly think about how I was so grateful I was when it was just sex. How eager I was to please you when you dangled the promise of relatively pain-free evening.
I think about how I thanked you, and kissed you, and smiled, and did my best to please every whim.
I think about how you made me enjoy it.
 

Winterfr3sh

Registrant
Whoa.

What was done to you was pure evil, worse than many could imagine.

The fact that you are writing about it shows your strength.

That young part of you that he tormented and abused and tricked — the part of you that yearns to be liked and to make others happy— is very sweet and belongs to you now and for good. You have the privilege and duty of taking care of him and loving him.

Thank you for doing that by writing his story. Proud of you both. Rooting for you both from the bottom of my heart.
 
Our own abuse breaks our heart. And we think it won't go beyond that. But it does. When I hear stories like yours, my heart breaks all over again.

The good news is that we can recover. And live decent lives.
 
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