The Dawning of a new Realization
Humiliation. It is a thing... a fetish, and evidently, it is a thing with me. Not necessarily the public shaming kind of humiliation, where your reputation is destroyed. But something more deep, more personal, and more intense. It is sexual humiliation, to be precise. How so, you might ask?
Well, to start, those who have read my stories or been in Roleplay with me in SecondLife, know of my **** fantasies. Or as the PC term is today, consensual non-consensual sexual activities. It all started from my first sexual encounter, when I was ****d by a black man, publicly, in someone's back yard during a 4th of July celebration. For those who wish to know more, I have written about it, here and in Literotica. The story is called "Forced First".
It has taken me until now to realize something that would have been helpful to learn all those years ago, perhaps back in my late teens. My need for such treatment, the acts of ultimate human humiliation, physical violation and even impregnation, all stem from an even deeper deeper need. A need for acceptance. A need to be accepted simply for who i am, not what I am, or what I do. A need to be submissive and yet accepted for that need. Basically, I have Daddy issues.
So why not try a Dom-type of relationship? Because BDSM, and D/s are only a symbol, to me, of that need, and an unfulfilling one. I could never become a BDSM girl, and my D/s relationships have all been either unfulfilling, or in one spectacularly long case, dangerous to my health. All because they are not about humiliation, they are about control.
I even tried a sex-surrogate. It was arranged through my ther****t, and frankly, he was just too nice of a guy. He didn't have it in him to abuse and humiliate me the way I needed. He was worse than humiliating. He was boring. In the end, I just asked him to stop, and he actually did!
I am a member of a few other websites and groups that are more open to all sorts of fetishes, and have had guys offer to "do me right". But those guys scare me.
An arranged meeting is a special kind of dangerous. Because those types don't know there is a stop, a finality to the act. When enough is enough. They also tend to have more pre-concieved ideas, and have more resources or tools of the trade. They tend to be more BDSM or D/s trained. I don't need to be tied down, and whipped, paddled, spanked, or worst of all, forced to give a BJ. I laugh at those guys who say they will "force me to suck their cock".
That destroys it. It has been my experience, 100% of the time, that a real r****t will never demand a BJ. That is like asking your victim to permanently maim her attacker. "Sure! Let me suck your cock to hardness, so I can bite the damn thing off!" Yet guys will try and taunt me with that. Morons.
Actually an anonymous, hop-on, get-off and get off is actually safer, to me. There is no aftercare, no hugging, no kissing, or anything else. It is wham-bam-thank you ma'am. Only without the thanks.
But in having this realization of this need I have, to be subjugated, to be consumed, to be... humiliated, I have begun to understand how I can help myself, and help the lives of my family, and even my friends. I have spent many years doing dangerously dumb things. Things that have gotten me pregnant, and even affected my health, all in the need to be humiliated. Being forcibly impregnated by a man my family (mainly my parents) would be horrified to know about, has been, to me, the ultimate humiliation. To be ****d and given a baby that I could not hide, because of the color of the c***d's skin, was and is the act of ultimate conquest and shame. Therefore the ultimate arousal.
It turns me on so unbelievably much to do this. A white-hot, burning and passionate bliss and orgasmic release at knowing the risk, the fear, and the humiliation of it all. I still have to sit on a towel at work, and home, to help sop up how much those thoughts could arouse me. It is why I wear circle skirts always. To keep them from being stained by my own secretions. It also had a beneficial effect. Circle skirts are more revealing, and when worn appropriately, more attractive to men. So it increased the risk, and therefore the reward. The reward of being humiliated.
So the question is "What now?"
There is no simple answer. Only a beginning of a new part of my life, hopefully. I know I need to discuss this with my husband. I can only hope he will understand, and then support and even fulfill this need, this drive I have. We'll see. But in the meantime, I still have creative writing, and SecondLife, to live out those fantasies I need to stop doing in person. My only problem is the weather is changing again, to the nice, breezy, warm days and nights. The nights where I want to put myself at-risk, the nights where I can be ****d. The nights I can be humiliated.
The clock is ticking.
Well, to start, those who have read my stories or been in Roleplay with me in SecondLife, know of my **** fantasies. Or as the PC term is today, consensual non-consensual sexual activities. It all started from my first sexual encounter, when I was ****d by a black man, publicly, in someone's back yard during a 4th of July celebration. For those who wish to know more, I have written about it, here and in Literotica. The story is called "Forced First".
It has taken me until now to realize something that would have been helpful to learn all those years ago, perhaps back in my late teens. My need for such treatment, the acts of ultimate human humiliation, physical violation and even impregnation, all stem from an even deeper deeper need. A need for acceptance. A need to be accepted simply for who i am, not what I am, or what I do. A need to be submissive and yet accepted for that need. Basically, I have Daddy issues.
So why not try a Dom-type of relationship? Because BDSM, and D/s are only a symbol, to me, of that need, and an unfulfilling one. I could never become a BDSM girl, and my D/s relationships have all been either unfulfilling, or in one spectacularly long case, dangerous to my health. All because they are not about humiliation, they are about control.
I even tried a sex-surrogate. It was arranged through my ther****t, and frankly, he was just too nice of a guy. He didn't have it in him to abuse and humiliate me the way I needed. He was worse than humiliating. He was boring. In the end, I just asked him to stop, and he actually did!
I am a member of a few other websites and groups that are more open to all sorts of fetishes, and have had guys offer to "do me right". But those guys scare me.
An arranged meeting is a special kind of dangerous. Because those types don't know there is a stop, a finality to the act. When enough is enough. They also tend to have more pre-concieved ideas, and have more resources or tools of the trade. They tend to be more BDSM or D/s trained. I don't need to be tied down, and whipped, paddled, spanked, or worst of all, forced to give a BJ. I laugh at those guys who say they will "force me to suck their cock".
That destroys it. It has been my experience, 100% of the time, that a real r****t will never demand a BJ. That is like asking your victim to permanently maim her attacker. "Sure! Let me suck your cock to hardness, so I can bite the damn thing off!" Yet guys will try and taunt me with that. Morons.
Actually an anonymous, hop-on, get-off and get off is actually safer, to me. There is no aftercare, no hugging, no kissing, or anything else. It is wham-bam-thank you ma'am. Only without the thanks.
But in having this realization of this need I have, to be subjugated, to be consumed, to be... humiliated, I have begun to understand how I can help myself, and help the lives of my family, and even my friends. I have spent many years doing dangerously dumb things. Things that have gotten me pregnant, and even affected my health, all in the need to be humiliated. Being forcibly impregnated by a man my family (mainly my parents) would be horrified to know about, has been, to me, the ultimate humiliation. To be ****d and given a baby that I could not hide, because of the color of the c***d's skin, was and is the act of ultimate conquest and shame. Therefore the ultimate arousal.
It turns me on so unbelievably much to do this. A white-hot, burning and passionate bliss and orgasmic release at knowing the risk, the fear, and the humiliation of it all. I still have to sit on a towel at work, and home, to help sop up how much those thoughts could arouse me. It is why I wear circle skirts always. To keep them from being stained by my own secretions. It also had a beneficial effect. Circle skirts are more revealing, and when worn appropriately, more attractive to men. So it increased the risk, and therefore the reward. The reward of being humiliated.
So the question is "What now?"
There is no simple answer. Only a beginning of a new part of my life, hopefully. I know I need to discuss this with my husband. I can only hope he will understand, and then support and even fulfill this need, this drive I have. We'll see. But in the meantime, I still have creative writing, and SecondLife, to live out those fantasies I need to stop doing in person. My only problem is the weather is changing again, to the nice, breezy, warm days and nights. The nights where I want to put myself at-risk, the nights where I can be ****d. The nights I can be humiliated.
The clock is ticking.
5 years ago
