Excellent! Thank you Kaye.
Having been a call girl in the 90s, I thought I was completely immune to the dominant-bad boy type…until the night…
A friend and I were sitting outside having a smoke, before the start of a twelve step meeting. I was wearing very short shorts and we were chatting, when I noticed a man, tall, dark and handsome, leaning against his car and ogling me. I’m not sure what kind of “intense” look he was going for, but I leaned close to my friend and said, indicating the, obviously, even though he was fully clothed, well muscled, powerful looking hunk, “Stay away from him. He’s a sexual predator.”
It was almost time for the meeting to start. We put our cigarette butts in the ashtray and went inside. I went to the ladies room.
When I opened the door to leave the ladies, he was standing there, blocking the way. I couldn’t get out, as he looked down at me, with a slight smile and one eyebrow slightly raised, began to hold his arms out.
I felt that I had no other choice, but to put my arms around him. As his very powerful arms encircled me and held me with the gentle, tender embrace of great, but restrained, power, I absolutely melted, in more ways than one…
In that one moment, all of what I had plainly seen in him dissapeared, as though it had never existed.
After the meeting, during which he kept gazing at me rather intensely, I fought my way out of the “spell” he seemed to have put me under. I determined that I was absolutely not going to “fall for it”!
Proud of myself for my awareness and self control, I marched out the door, ready to tell my friends how wise I was…
When I stepped out of the door, I saw him. He was sitting in his car, engine running, leaning over the console, holding the passenger door open.
Yeah, you guessed it. I, practically dripping, mind completely blank, idiotic smile on my face, got in…
We went to my apartment and yes, the sex was pretty great, but there was a nagging suspicion that I kept pushing to the back of my mind, only wanting to remain immersed in the pleasure of feeling desired, cherished, protected, but completely dominated, by a benign but powerful man.
My initial assessment of was, of course, correct. He used me as his “fuck-dummy” for more than a year, telling me, “I don’t want to drive up and catch another man in here!” Or, “Don’t let me catch you messing with any of these people out here!” “You just stick to yourself and go to meetings. That’s all.”
I eventually, finally, got rid of him, but not without him coming back for a grudge/revenge-fuck. I didn’t try to fight, but it was still, really, rape, as I kept telling him no, over and over, but finally just letting him do what he wanted to…
He didn’t, as he always did before, take care not to hurt me with his slightly too long cock, but slammed away..as I began to grunt and make quiet little cries when he slammed in too far, he coldly, with the dead eyes of a stone cold killer, said, not loud, but with a deep rumble, “Shut Up”.
I’m lucky I wasn’t beaten to a pulp. I’m blessed that he finally left. He came back a few times, but I wouldn’t let him in, and threatened to call the police, so, eventually he stopped trying. I guess he had moved on to a new “fuck-dummy”.
I see so very many women trapped, “held hostage”, in situations like that. It’s very sad to me..
I don’t even know why I wrote all of this. Guess it had to come out, again.
Obviously, your essay really got me thinking.
Peace Love Kindness Respect the more you give the more you get 😍 start with yourself 😉 because you deserve it 🙏🏼
PS: It just occurred to me that you may not be aware that I’m a transgender woman. I “transitioned” about thirty years ago. Apparently, because I was a “pretty boy”, and/or my natural demeanor, I was treated to misogyny, sexual harassment, and rape, even prior to the “change”.
#metoo, before and after…
❤️🙏🏼
