I needed to get this out

The feeling hits me like a shock of electricity through my legs and back and I am 9 again in my room playing playstation with Kyle. My parents are at work for the next few hours and we both know we will not be disturbed. He has been having sex with me almost daily for the last 3 years. He slowly puts his hand on my thigh then starts to unbutton my jeans.

It started out innocently enough when I was 6. He would tell me I couldn't play his video games unless I sat in his lap. So I did. Then it progressed to him putting his hand in my pocket and rubbing my penis. At some point later he would push me against the bed and dry hump me with our clothes on for what seemed like hours at a time. By the time I was 8 the clothes had come off. I can still remember the feeling of his warm penis rubbing against my back while he fondled my tiny penis.

The first time I ever cummed was in the hallway of my old house laying on Kyles stomach facing the ceiling. He told me that he was going to do something that felt good so that I would start getting something out of the experience. He was right it did feel good. Thinking about it now I just want to throw up. I can still remember how he smelled the sickly odor of teen sweat mixed with cum.

Sometimes he would make me choose what he was going to do to me that day. Did I want it in the ass or did I want my dick sucked? I usually chose the ass so I didn't have to look at him while it happened. After awhile I became a master of disassociation I could completely take myself out of the situation while it was happening. I don't remember where I would go but anywhere was better then there.

The worst memories are from around the time I was 9 or 10 and started hitting puberty. We would place bets on games of playstation. If he won I would get butt fucked for a certain amount of time. If I won we would play football or basketball outside. I usually lost. But this one time still haunts me to this day. I was about to win in a racing game but I purposely wrecked to let him win. I had begun to enjoy him violating me. I was his afternoon sex slave. From the time I got off the school bus until my parents got home 4 hours later I was his and we both knew it.

Why didn't I tell? that's the 64 thousand dollar question that haunts me to this day. I think at first I didn't realize how big of a deal it was. I didn't really have any other friends and I thought it was really cool that this high school kid wanted to hang out with little old nerdy me. Then once I hit puberty I was at first fascinated by the feelings I was having. As that slowly wore off the manipulation started. He told me that no one would believe me and even if I did they would think I was just as bad because I waited so long to say anything. They would know my darkest secret which was that I enjoyed it on some base level even though I knew it was wrong. The final threat was that he would do worse things to me like cut my penis off or even kill me. I told my friend on the school bus one day what was happening and word got back to kyle that I did he came to my house held me down and violently molested me for what seemed like hours. After that I just went into my shell and shut up.

My family moved out of that town when I was 11 and I never saw Kyle again. I tried to forget the entire thing happened but looking back I was completely broken. Even after all these years I still feel broken.

 

I cant say Ive had any similiar expieriences but being a drug addict (heroin, xanax and cocaine) I would assume that a good source of recovery would be to join a chat room or meet up group with others who have been through something similar. At least thats what everyone tells me to do to to successfully become clean. Feeling alone is a huge part of the issue and knowing you aren't can bring a lot of relief. Perhaps you could talk to a counselor or psychologist about it, I would just be wary of any type of meds they try to force on you, do your research. Talking with a counselor was never something I thought would help me but recently Ive been considering talking to a psychiatrist/psychologist to help with both the mental predispositions I have to addiction as well as to ask for help in my attempt to become sober/taper from my habit. Sorry for getting off topic, but I often feel broken too while suffering through withdrawals and the depression that comes along,you just need to realize that the past is the past and theirs no changing it. My personal opinion would be that in order to get it off your mind you should try to practice forgiveness, as you are only hurting yourself at this point feeling mad, sad and angry reflecting on what happened. Think about the future and things can only get better in terms of your situation. Be thankful for what you do have, even after such a horrible experience, know that it could be worse and focus on what you want the rest of your life to be; a never ending reflection on the pain of the past, or too begin to lose that broken feeling, you aren't broken, you went through some major trauma and are going to need support. If you don't give up and perhaps find something such as helping others cope who are in the same situation you were in you may find that that brings you joy, to be able to be their for someone and prevent them from going through what you are now, it just might be the thing that fulfills you. Good Luck and I wish you all the best

 

I'm sorry that happened to you. My cousin molested me when I was 4 but that only went on for a few months.

 

I'm sorry all that happened to you. How do you feel after writing about it? Did writing help?
For me, the abuse from my own childhood has sabotaged some of the choices I made in relationships and is responsible for my being with nasty women like the Millineum Slut and Psycho Suzie I wrote about in recent entries. It's also responsible for my living like a monk for years at a time. When I wrote about it, I thought about it and better saw the connection between childhood and adiult experiences. It's easier for me to avoid letting those experiences affect my present and repeating those mistakes.

 

Writing about it has been a pretty positive experience. I totally see the relationship between the abuse and my problems as an adult. At 27 I have never had a true adult sexual relationship. Like I feel like I am damaging my partner when we have sex even though its totally consensual. Its made me into an non-sexual person. Which of course leads to more and more loneliness as I get older and life shifts from relationships with friends into relationships with partners. I don't even know where to start in fixing that as I feel so behind in developing the maturity relationships require.

Then of course there is the self loathing and depression. I could write a book about that but its not very different from other peoples problems with it from what I have seen/heard.

I kind of feel guilty for posting this on bluelight for others to read. I don't want to come off like I am seeking attention or pity. I feel like putting it out for the world to see destroys the shame of it being a secret. for a long time it was the closest guarded secret in my life. I still find myself withholding bits and pieces of things that happened because I feel its so shameful. I had never ever told a soul about the part of me that enjoyed the sexual aspect of it. That still makes me want to throw up. Or more honestly it makes me feel like I deserve all the shame I feel.

Its disheartening to realize he didn't only destroy my childhood. He has destroyed my life to this point. Worst of all I have allowed it to happen. I am just as passive today as I was when I was a child scared to tell anyone what was happening. As much as I realize that I need to close the door on this I cant figure out how to do it.

Thank you guys for reading and replying. It means a lot to me.

 

You made me cry so hard but my tears are of gratitude.

See...it's very hard to explain to someone what it means to be sexually molested when the violator is actually...well, making love to you, for lack of an uninvented term.

My mother has been utterly destroyed because of this. Her father would come into her room and go out of his way to be gentle...to please her, never to hurt her and he did it for years. What the fuck does that do to a child's brain? The sensations are pleasurable but you *know* the person creating them is just wrong, wrong, wrong...

As she grew older, she just had no damn idea how to create healthy and loving partnerships....which spilled all over me....not to mention visits back home to the grandparents...where she was insanely proactive and yet....

Yes. Thank you for sharing this heart-rending, soul-shatteringly tragic story. Some tiny piece of me is healing and I can never thank you for your pain.

 

Thank you for writing this and allowing me to read it. You're an amazing person and I find you inspiring... Xoxox