Butthurt

I got sexually assaulted when I was a little girl, so I knew exactly what it felt like. #AngerRetaliatory

I knew that I shouldn’t go off on my own, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I was bored, so I cut through some trees to get to my friends house, when a boy grabbed me.

I never saw him, so I couldn’t say how old, but his voice cracked. He called me names, like “Slut,” and blamed me for teasing him. Walking around in tight shorts, but he covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream.

I tried to say “No?” but it was muffled, and shook my head, but he held his arm tight over my mouth, so I bit it.

He called me “Bitch!” and let go of my butt to slap it hard so I squealed, and stopped biting him. Then, he pulled his dick out, and beat off on my back. I fell down when he let go, but he just kicked me, and ran off to leave me crying. Hurt, but also feeling gross, and disgusting.

I blamed myself for dressing sexy, even though it was hot, I thought I picked those shorts because they were tight, and they made my butt look good. Of course, I wasn’t trying to get his attention, let alone grabbed, bullied, and beat off on.

So, I got depressed, and quiet. I didn’t tell anyone for years, and I threw out the shirt with the cum stains on it, as soon as I got home to take it off. I started wearing baggy clothes to hide my body, even though I was nowhere near starting puberty, and growing one.

I also stayed away from the woods, and basically grounded myself. Staying in my room, and trying to distract myself with books, or music. We didn’t have internet yet, so I had to go out to watch TV in the living room, but I didn’t want to do that any more, either.

I just wanted to be left alone, but after a while, I got over that “Moody phase,” and pretty much forgot about it. I still got nervous, and even panic attacks even thinking about going in the woods, or looking at a tree-line, so I didn’t.

Then, when I was in 6th grade, I drank too much at school, and forgot to go to the bathroom. My friends were hanging out, using the mirrors to fuss with their hair, and talking about girl stuff. So, I hung out until it was time to get on the bus.

Most of them got off before, or after me, but I had 1 friend who lived in the same neighborhood, so we could walk home together. I still knew better than to walk around alone, but I was already crossing my knees on the bus. “I really have to go,” there was a gap between the houses, where you could cut through, and a few bushes around the corner where I could drop my panties, and pop a squat.

“Hhuh!” It was such a relief, but then I looked up when the bushes brushed the arm of a boy coming around. He already had his fly open, and he was fishing it out.

All of a sudden, my fear went straight to rage, and I pushed him. Called him perv, and smacked him before he even put his arm up.

“What? I didn’t know you’re back there, I was just going to take a leak!” He put his arm down, to look over it, and touched me on the shoulder.

I called him “LIAR!” and smacked him again, but he pushed me back, and I hit my head on the fence with a loud thump.

“SH!” he looked around, and lowered his voice. ‘you’re really bossy, and loud.’ He let go to rub his cheek, and smiled. It was really red where I hit him, twice, and I shook my head.

“And you like that?”

“Huh!” He thought, then looked down. “You even hit me pretty hard, but not too hard.”

I slapped him again, on the other side, since he was covering the first cheek, and it hurt my left hand. More than the first 2 hurt my right hand, but he laughed, and wiggled his jaw. “Okay, that hurt.”

I looked down, but I didn’t see anything but a little bit of his underwear sticking out. So, I touched him. “This turning you on?” I saw this one movie, with Vin Diesel, called The Chronicles of Riddick, and it was really violent, but there were these 2 Necromongers, and they’re like Goths, but the man slapped his wife until she got turned on for the sexy.

They didn’t show the whole love scene, but that was about all I’d scene about slap kiss make love, abusive relationships. I think they’re married, but honestly, I don’t really like that movie.

My dad liked Pitch Black, but he didn’t like that one as much either. It was too cheezy, like Jupiter Ascending? But you liked the Matrix movies enough to watch it, and find out it was just cheezy science fiction, like that.

He took his belt off, and turned around, holding it behind him in both hands. “You ever seen Body of Evidence?” I thought he wanted me to spank him with it, so I slapped his ass, and he covered his butt with both hands. “Ow!”

“No? Is that like Fatal Attraction?” I hadn’t seen that neither, because it was rated R for sex, and nudity. My dad liked action movies, so he watched a lot of them but that was just violence, and on basic cable, so they bleeped out the bad language.

“Huh, more like Basic Instinct, but it’s really old, so Madonna was still young, and sexy in it. Not as sexy as Sharon Stone, but.” He took his belt back, and stuck it through the buckle.

He turned around, and showed me how to pull it up. Tight around his elbows, but I couldn’t buckle it. So, I had to wrap my fist up in it, and spank him with my bare hand.

“You really like that, huh?” I rubbed it in, and he nodded.

“Yeah, I always wanted to try it.” It turns out, his family had cable with HBO, Cinemax, and he got to watch R rated movies late at night. When they showed everything, well. Everything you could get away with, without an X, or NC-17 rating, but plenty enough.

He really liked those movies, like Basic Instinct, Fatal Attraction, and a bunch of others. He like Sharon Stone more than Madonna, but that’s where she saw her tie a man up with his belt like this. She threatened to kill him, and she was being suspected for murder, so the sex scene was full of suspense, wondering if she really would do it.

Just like Basic Instinct, because it was pretty much a copy of the same script by a different movie studio. (Not a ripoff, the same scripts float around Hollywood, and get re-written, which is why you get movies like Megamind, and Despicable Me come out in the same year.)

I didn’t even pull my panties up, I was just having so much fun spanking him, and it really helped me get out a lot of stuff I had buried from my first assault. After I let him go, and pulled my underwear up, he was really hard, and sticking his out his fly.

It was still open, but he got such a boner from me slapping him around, calling him names, spanking him, and the bondage, of course.

He just poked it back in, and zipped up his pants. “You don’t want to have sex with me, or even jerk off?”

“Huh!” He looked tired, “I better wait until I get home, before somebody else shows up.”

I looked over, and my friend was standing there. She looked back, and saw him go after me. She thought he might try something, but then when she saw me turn the tables on me, she just watched. Peeking around the corner, but then she made me get his number.

Then, she asked me questions, so I could tell her “How was it?” and I could kind of think about what just happened, to try and explain it to her. I have no idea what made him like getting tied up, and beaten like that, other than watching rated R movies way too young, but I saw that Chronicals of Riddick, and it didn’t make me want to marry a Necromonger wife beater.

“I don’t know,” but I started to understand that boy a little better. The first one that I never really saw behind me, but I had to put myself in his place. Feel my boyfriend (He definitely wanted to be my boyfriend when I got horny enough to call him) struggle, and even the sting in my hands from smacking him as hard as I could.

Of course, we kept on playing S&m games, and I even let him tie me up once to see if I liked it. I didn’t I hated it, and I made him untie me as soon as he could when it triggered another panic attack, but then I really beat the hell out of him when I got his belt back.

He loved it, especially when I learned how to channel my fear into rage, but it wasn’t healthy. It made me a bitch out of bed too, and I started cheating on him. Grabbing other boys from behind, and busting their balls, so I could twist their arms when they were still bent over too weak to stop me.

I even thought about raping them, a lot, but they’re lucky I couldn’t think of a way that I could actually pull it off until after I got help. He killed himself, my boyfriend, I mean. He hanged himself in the closet, and I didn’t see the body, but nobody wanted to talk about what he was wearing when they found the body.

I’m pretty sure it was auto-erotic, but to this day, I wish they told me whether he still had an erection, or not.

That’s what it took to finally talk to a therapist about my abuse, my victims, and BDSM. So, I could act out my fantasies with someone and not hurt them.

Too badly.

😉

#AngerRetaliatory is the sub-type of serial rapists, assaulters, and sexually motivated serial killers. If you want to look up the profile in Holmes, and Holmes. There’s further subtypes like Piquerists, and Frotteurists. Just like it’s a subtype of Disorganized with a Sadistic motive.

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