It’s been a few days since my last post. Truth is, it’s been a difficult few days. The sexual assault I described continues to dredge up horrible memories and very confusing thoughts Though so many years have passed, I still cling to the details with vivid accuracy. On the one hand, there are few things more traumatic than my being raped and sodomized by a circle of violent thugs. But on the other hand, the bondage and sheer domination imposed on me that afternoon led to an unanticipated sense of arousal and freedom.
How the fuck did I find myself tantalized in the midst of such abuse and humiliation? Truly, my virgin asshole was very nearly wrecked when I endured the penetration of one dick after another. My deep throat became raw with each stroke of a hard penis plunging deep inside my mouth. Was I a whore? Was I some sort of a sick pervert? Was I simply disoriented by the suddenness and intensity of the attack?
The whole ordeal prompted me to consider whether or not I elicited any or all of it. (Spoken like a true victim, right?) Did I invite such an attack by my effeminate demeanor or non-binary wardrobe? Did I send out a gay signal or promiscuous vibe?
Did my androgynous physical appearance (dick and tits) plunge my abusers into a homophobic fugue?
I do not know much, but I do know this: it would be so very terribly wrong to shoulder any responsibility for the piggish actions of a group of vicious psychopaths. They were disgusting savages who fucked and raped an innocent. Period.
Innocence was indeed lost that afternoon. But something else was found–my edge. Goodbye to my vanilla world. Goodbye to my notion of a clear divide separating good from evil, straight from gay, male from female, truth from lies. Hello to the gray areas of life.
That’s all I can write–for now. Stay tuned!
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