thoughts ... **trigger**
i believe i was about then at the time, not really sure. my father had found this woman who wanted me for the evening. night jobs were always tricky because people would think they could keep me the whole night, instead of the usual half hour, hour jobs. it was sometimes negotiable, but usually set in stone. the woman lived in a nice looking neighborhood of two-story homes. i remember i liked the way her house looked because of the odd shaped bricks. i wondered how it managed to stay up with all those funny shapes.
my father and uncle dropped me off and my dad walked me to the door. he always did that, if he was there. he gave me his watch, keeping time was my responsibility, and knocked on the door. this really tall woman answered it. she was slightly taller than my father. i had to tilt my head back to look at her.
at the time, i paid no attention to the glances they exchanged. real subtle dirty looks. the money was exchanged right there at the door. my father always insisted on getting the money first.
the lady took me inside her home. there were a lot of blinds, plants, and a lot of beige and off white. it was kind of dark inside, so everything had a gray tint. she didn't waste any time. she undressed me, without uttering a word, and when i was naked, she told me to turn around. she had been kneeling on the floor. she got up, and left me in the room by myself. i looked around, she had a nice looking kitchen and some funny looking exercise bike over in a corner. when she came back she had a few things with her. a strap, a dildo, and a strap-on harness.
she let the stuff fall to the floor then undressed. i watched more out of having nothing else better to do. like always, i compared her with other customers. i thought she looked okay. not very ugly, but not very pretty either. she asked what i knew how to do. i told her i'd do anything she wanted. she asked if it was my first time, and out of reflex i said yes. i wasn't supposed to say anything about previous jobs. she kind of smirked like she didn't believe me and picked up the stuff from the floor. i watched her put the dildo into the strap-on, and in some pathetic lapse of memory, i asked her what it was for. i'd seen the things before, but never a strap-on. i was being such a kid about it, half intrigued by what she was going to do, half concerned about the size of the sex toy. it looked huge, but then, i was a kid, so it might not have been.
she rolled her eyes at my question and told me to get on my hands and knees and she'd show me. so i did. i looked over my shoulder to watch her put the thing on. i was so fascinated by a woman wearing a dick. i think i might have smiled. she did.
i turned away, then felt her hands at my hips. she pulled them back, penetrating me. i don't recall any of the feelings, any of the pain. i just remember thinking "she's not all the way in yet. she still not in yet.' she took her time at first, going slow. i'm sure it hurt like hell. i tried my best to sound turned on by it. i could be a really filthy mouthed whore if people wanted that. i figured she did, because she got more into it. she popped me with strap dead across my back. i jerked forward, and she shouted something. she began hitting me harder, and thrusting harder. at one point, she hit me so hard with the strap, it flew out her hand. she continued to pounded into me, doing it harder and rougher. i remember her grabbing my shoulders and pulling back as she pushed in. i thought, "what am i doing wrong?' it must have hurt a lot, enough to cause my resolve to break, because i began to cry, and from that sob, and from that wail for her to stop. the more pain i felt, the more i thought i was misbehaving, but i couldn't figure out what it was. and she wouldn't stop long enough for me to calm down.
i realized that she wasn't paying any attention to me. i tried to pull away, losing my balance, and falling, but she kept going, leaning over me. the leather of the strap-on pounded against my butt hard enough for me to feel the stitching on it. she stopped long enough to change positions and then kept going. she was grunting various things, mostly about payback and a bunch of stuff i couldn't follow. she didn't actually stop until there was a knock at her door. she got up and told me to shut, and left me in the room on the floor. i managed to glance towards my behind. i didn't need to look to know i was bleeding. she came back and told me to get dressed, then left out again. i found my clothes and was able to collect myself enough to get dressed. she returned and led me to the front door where my father stood. he looked a little angry. i glanced at the watch, she'd run over her time by twenty minutes. my father had her pay for the extra time, and i'm assuming they probably exchanged those dirty looks again.
one the way home, in the back seat, i cried into my father's lap. crying wasn't much permitted, so i knew i'd get in trouble for it, but i was trying to calm down. in my childish desire to be protected, i muttered that i didn't want to go back to that house ever again. and, more because i knew it was an insult rather than actually thinking she was one, i called the lady a "fucking lesbo'. my father and uncle couldn't stop laughing, even once we got home. i got a bath and was had to do my uncle before i was allowed to sleep. i didn't get much. i stayed up most of the night. the bleeding never stopped, and i was constantly checking to make sure the towel i had stayed in place during the night.
i don't recall how much later, but definitely later, while laying in the bed with my father in the morning, i hear this voice. it says, "i'm a fucking lesbo, huh?' i look over my shoulder and there she is. i almost freaked out. she was in the house. my brothers were in the bed too, and she touched my younger brother, thinking he was me. someone corrected her, either me or my dad. then she reached for my baby brother. i grabbed her arm, and told her flatly that if she touched him, i'd kill her. my dad laughed, and she sort of did the same and left. i might have fell asleep, or my memory is just too shaky, but i recall my dad pulling out this wad of cash. he held up a fifty or a hundred dollar bill, i can't remember, and asked if i'd ever had that much money. i forget how i responded, but he said the money was mine. i knew then that the lady had bought me again. my dad said she'd gave him a grand for four days with me.
so i had to get up then, and get dressed and leave with her. i spent the next four days at her house. she took me to school for the first two days, then the weekend came, and she had me all to herself. it was more of the same, sodomizing me with that dildo. she liked bondage type stuff, especially the kind where the ropes are all connected, and pulling one makes the whole thing constrict. she was pretty good at doing that. and the whole time she ranted about her life. her parents, the rapes she'd been the victim of, the anger she felt, her being sick of men. she focused it all on me, doing whatever came to her mind at the time. she liked seeing me squirm. usually i could control my reactions enough that i wouldn't flat out panic, but i couldn't compose myself with her. i don't remember the feelings or the pain, just the things she did to me.
afterwards, when i was returned home, i was bleeding so much from my rectum that my uncle almost took me to the hospital. that night, my aunt tried to fool around with me, and the first time i'd ever seen this, my uncle beat the hell out of her for fingering me. i was hysterical, screaming and whimpering, and otherwise annoying my family, but i didn't get punished. my one uncle, second oldest, kept me the whole night, trying to calm me down. he gave me a bath, and let me sleep on his chest. he always hated anyone laying on him. it took a few weeks before i healed enough to where the bleeding completely stopped. about a week after the first four days, the lady came over and did it again, this time with my aunt watching just so she could laugh. she tried the strap-on thing herself, and i tried to play it off, but panicked again.
i was screaming as loud as i could. my grandfather eventually came in and told me to "shut the fuck up'. then he told my aunt to do it until i liked it. she did it until i managed to get used to the pain enough to control the level of my voice. i did stop crying though, but i kept whimpering, i just couldn't help it.
turns out, even though it was an insult, the woman was indeed gay. still is, she's not dead or anything. in fact, she was my one aunt's childhood friend. and she was raped by i think two of my uncles. as far as i've been told, her parents didn't believe her, and she's been angry about that since then. apparently, it was done, her rape, because she seemed more interested in my aunt than my uncle, and he wanted to try and "turn' her strait. totally absurd and stupid, even for my uncles, but they did it nonetheless. and this woman had all that emotion boiling over inside. she said so many nasty things to me about males. even though i was with her only a few times, i saw her often because my aunt had her over. and the comments would begin. she had me convinced i was somehow responsible for what happened to her, that i was damaged goods.
the way looking back on that makes me "feel' (i'm not really getting any emotional feedback from the memory. it could have just as well have happened to someone else) is like because of the way i was raised, the damage that has been done to my brain, the ass-backwards way i relate to people, if it can even be called relating, that i'm a wild card, to be thrown away. what made me think about this was watching the o'reiley factor last night, with him talking to a psychologist about the sniper. she said that people like that come from a history of severe abuse, torture really. she posed a question to him, that if as a result of severe abuse, an infant's brain chemistry is altered, and that infant can't function like the rest of us, what would he have done. his answer was to remove the child, both from the abuse, and from society itself. no help, no compassion, if the kid is a potential threat, keep him away. and i thought about my situation, and i definitely qualify.
i watched this history channel special on the spartans a while back. and one of the things spartans did was literally throw unwanted infants off a cliff. i thought about my past, and tried to honestly figure out how i'd feel if i was taken out of the home, and locked away in a facility with people who don't have to care about me, don't have to treat me humanely, and if they should abuse me, who'd even care. in that case, i'd rather be left at home than locked away because i was abused.
i don't express much anger, but what o'reiley said really made me feel like gutter shit. and thinking about that made me recall what that woman did. and that makes me think about my grandfather saying the only reason i was allowed to live was because i was a good fuck. the rage is right here, it's ready to be unleashed. i almost slipped today when my father told me the reason he allowed that woman to do what she did. he said he expected me to fight back. i almost slapped him. for two seconds, the man was truly dead meat, i would have killed him just that quickly. but i managed to calm myself before telling him to go fuck himself.
sorry to rant like this. and sorry if i triggered anybody.
jake
my father and uncle dropped me off and my dad walked me to the door. he always did that, if he was there. he gave me his watch, keeping time was my responsibility, and knocked on the door. this really tall woman answered it. she was slightly taller than my father. i had to tilt my head back to look at her.
at the time, i paid no attention to the glances they exchanged. real subtle dirty looks. the money was exchanged right there at the door. my father always insisted on getting the money first.
the lady took me inside her home. there were a lot of blinds, plants, and a lot of beige and off white. it was kind of dark inside, so everything had a gray tint. she didn't waste any time. she undressed me, without uttering a word, and when i was naked, she told me to turn around. she had been kneeling on the floor. she got up, and left me in the room by myself. i looked around, she had a nice looking kitchen and some funny looking exercise bike over in a corner. when she came back she had a few things with her. a strap, a dildo, and a strap-on harness.
she let the stuff fall to the floor then undressed. i watched more out of having nothing else better to do. like always, i compared her with other customers. i thought she looked okay. not very ugly, but not very pretty either. she asked what i knew how to do. i told her i'd do anything she wanted. she asked if it was my first time, and out of reflex i said yes. i wasn't supposed to say anything about previous jobs. she kind of smirked like she didn't believe me and picked up the stuff from the floor. i watched her put the dildo into the strap-on, and in some pathetic lapse of memory, i asked her what it was for. i'd seen the things before, but never a strap-on. i was being such a kid about it, half intrigued by what she was going to do, half concerned about the size of the sex toy. it looked huge, but then, i was a kid, so it might not have been.
she rolled her eyes at my question and told me to get on my hands and knees and she'd show me. so i did. i looked over my shoulder to watch her put the thing on. i was so fascinated by a woman wearing a dick. i think i might have smiled. she did.
i turned away, then felt her hands at my hips. she pulled them back, penetrating me. i don't recall any of the feelings, any of the pain. i just remember thinking "she's not all the way in yet. she still not in yet.' she took her time at first, going slow. i'm sure it hurt like hell. i tried my best to sound turned on by it. i could be a really filthy mouthed whore if people wanted that. i figured she did, because she got more into it. she popped me with strap dead across my back. i jerked forward, and she shouted something. she began hitting me harder, and thrusting harder. at one point, she hit me so hard with the strap, it flew out her hand. she continued to pounded into me, doing it harder and rougher. i remember her grabbing my shoulders and pulling back as she pushed in. i thought, "what am i doing wrong?' it must have hurt a lot, enough to cause my resolve to break, because i began to cry, and from that sob, and from that wail for her to stop. the more pain i felt, the more i thought i was misbehaving, but i couldn't figure out what it was. and she wouldn't stop long enough for me to calm down.
i realized that she wasn't paying any attention to me. i tried to pull away, losing my balance, and falling, but she kept going, leaning over me. the leather of the strap-on pounded against my butt hard enough for me to feel the stitching on it. she stopped long enough to change positions and then kept going. she was grunting various things, mostly about payback and a bunch of stuff i couldn't follow. she didn't actually stop until there was a knock at her door. she got up and told me to shut, and left me in the room on the floor. i managed to glance towards my behind. i didn't need to look to know i was bleeding. she came back and told me to get dressed, then left out again. i found my clothes and was able to collect myself enough to get dressed. she returned and led me to the front door where my father stood. he looked a little angry. i glanced at the watch, she'd run over her time by twenty minutes. my father had her pay for the extra time, and i'm assuming they probably exchanged those dirty looks again.
one the way home, in the back seat, i cried into my father's lap. crying wasn't much permitted, so i knew i'd get in trouble for it, but i was trying to calm down. in my childish desire to be protected, i muttered that i didn't want to go back to that house ever again. and, more because i knew it was an insult rather than actually thinking she was one, i called the lady a "fucking lesbo'. my father and uncle couldn't stop laughing, even once we got home. i got a bath and was had to do my uncle before i was allowed to sleep. i didn't get much. i stayed up most of the night. the bleeding never stopped, and i was constantly checking to make sure the towel i had stayed in place during the night.
i don't recall how much later, but definitely later, while laying in the bed with my father in the morning, i hear this voice. it says, "i'm a fucking lesbo, huh?' i look over my shoulder and there she is. i almost freaked out. she was in the house. my brothers were in the bed too, and she touched my younger brother, thinking he was me. someone corrected her, either me or my dad. then she reached for my baby brother. i grabbed her arm, and told her flatly that if she touched him, i'd kill her. my dad laughed, and she sort of did the same and left. i might have fell asleep, or my memory is just too shaky, but i recall my dad pulling out this wad of cash. he held up a fifty or a hundred dollar bill, i can't remember, and asked if i'd ever had that much money. i forget how i responded, but he said the money was mine. i knew then that the lady had bought me again. my dad said she'd gave him a grand for four days with me.
so i had to get up then, and get dressed and leave with her. i spent the next four days at her house. she took me to school for the first two days, then the weekend came, and she had me all to herself. it was more of the same, sodomizing me with that dildo. she liked bondage type stuff, especially the kind where the ropes are all connected, and pulling one makes the whole thing constrict. she was pretty good at doing that. and the whole time she ranted about her life. her parents, the rapes she'd been the victim of, the anger she felt, her being sick of men. she focused it all on me, doing whatever came to her mind at the time. she liked seeing me squirm. usually i could control my reactions enough that i wouldn't flat out panic, but i couldn't compose myself with her. i don't remember the feelings or the pain, just the things she did to me.
afterwards, when i was returned home, i was bleeding so much from my rectum that my uncle almost took me to the hospital. that night, my aunt tried to fool around with me, and the first time i'd ever seen this, my uncle beat the hell out of her for fingering me. i was hysterical, screaming and whimpering, and otherwise annoying my family, but i didn't get punished. my one uncle, second oldest, kept me the whole night, trying to calm me down. he gave me a bath, and let me sleep on his chest. he always hated anyone laying on him. it took a few weeks before i healed enough to where the bleeding completely stopped. about a week after the first four days, the lady came over and did it again, this time with my aunt watching just so she could laugh. she tried the strap-on thing herself, and i tried to play it off, but panicked again.
i was screaming as loud as i could. my grandfather eventually came in and told me to "shut the fuck up'. then he told my aunt to do it until i liked it. she did it until i managed to get used to the pain enough to control the level of my voice. i did stop crying though, but i kept whimpering, i just couldn't help it.
turns out, even though it was an insult, the woman was indeed gay. still is, she's not dead or anything. in fact, she was my one aunt's childhood friend. and she was raped by i think two of my uncles. as far as i've been told, her parents didn't believe her, and she's been angry about that since then. apparently, it was done, her rape, because she seemed more interested in my aunt than my uncle, and he wanted to try and "turn' her strait. totally absurd and stupid, even for my uncles, but they did it nonetheless. and this woman had all that emotion boiling over inside. she said so many nasty things to me about males. even though i was with her only a few times, i saw her often because my aunt had her over. and the comments would begin. she had me convinced i was somehow responsible for what happened to her, that i was damaged goods.
the way looking back on that makes me "feel' (i'm not really getting any emotional feedback from the memory. it could have just as well have happened to someone else) is like because of the way i was raised, the damage that has been done to my brain, the ass-backwards way i relate to people, if it can even be called relating, that i'm a wild card, to be thrown away. what made me think about this was watching the o'reiley factor last night, with him talking to a psychologist about the sniper. she said that people like that come from a history of severe abuse, torture really. she posed a question to him, that if as a result of severe abuse, an infant's brain chemistry is altered, and that infant can't function like the rest of us, what would he have done. his answer was to remove the child, both from the abuse, and from society itself. no help, no compassion, if the kid is a potential threat, keep him away. and i thought about my situation, and i definitely qualify.
i watched this history channel special on the spartans a while back. and one of the things spartans did was literally throw unwanted infants off a cliff. i thought about my past, and tried to honestly figure out how i'd feel if i was taken out of the home, and locked away in a facility with people who don't have to care about me, don't have to treat me humanely, and if they should abuse me, who'd even care. in that case, i'd rather be left at home than locked away because i was abused.
i don't express much anger, but what o'reiley said really made me feel like gutter shit. and thinking about that made me recall what that woman did. and that makes me think about my grandfather saying the only reason i was allowed to live was because i was a good fuck. the rage is right here, it's ready to be unleashed. i almost slipped today when my father told me the reason he allowed that woman to do what she did. he said he expected me to fight back. i almost slapped him. for two seconds, the man was truly dead meat, i would have killed him just that quickly. but i managed to calm myself before telling him to go fuck himself.
sorry to rant like this. and sorry if i triggered anybody.
jake
Damn Jake what hell to go thru! Here's a gentle hug or a pat on the back or whatever you can take with my thots & prayers for you & for your healing ..........
