Tag Archives: mind control

You can’t get to yes without risking no.

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Damn. I don’t even know how I want to start this. I don’t know what the frame is for this. I mean, a dude shared https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/the-state-of-our-unions/202302/why-are-so-many-young-men-single-and-sexless?amp and this article is making it hard to go to sleep.

So this will involve heavy trauma random mentions but I’m not talking about my pain or my victimisation–that really isn’t the point. It’s just for context.

More than 60% of American men under 30 are single and are probably very rarely having sex during their single life. Holy shit. I had more sex than these men before I was 15. I don’t mean the rapes. When you have an exceptionally early introduction to rape it is fairly common to translate that into an exceptionally early introduction to sex. I have spent a lot of time in therapy working through my feelings about whether or not I raped the children who said yes when I asked if they wanted to play. We were the same age. But my play was not age appropriate. Lots of mothers didn’t let their children near me again.

I’m not going to turn this into a dirty story. Lots of kids said no. I refined my approach. Lots of people said no. I refined my approach. Score.

Before I was a freshman in high school I had slept with more people than most people do in their whole lives. In order to get a body count that high I was told no over and over and over and over. This was all made much easier by the fact that I moved approximately 45ish times by that age. I had been to 20 different schools. I had so many prey opportunities and I am a pretty damn good hunter. It helps that I consider gender fairly irrelevant.

I learned the most from the people who told me no. There are some good fucking men in this world who will recoil with horror when a child asks for sex. Good for you, dudes. I wish you were less unusual.

But anyway. The point is that in order to figure out who you are and what you want you need to put effort in to having something to offer. I’m autistic and my special interest was sex through early childhood. I had a really fucked up/healthy boundaries on their part experience of being ostracised over and over and over and over and over.

My kid told me he felt like everyone in the world hated him when a couple of kids bullied him at one school.

God I had to try hard not to giggle. Oh baby. I wish I knew what it felt like to have four people not liking you feel like the whole world. Fuck.

So I really and truly do know how hard it is to ask people for sex and be rejected over and over. The thing is: do you want sex or do you want a relationship? Because if you just want sex then you really should pay a sex worker and be ok with that. It’s a dandy occupation for folks who choose it without any other coercion beyond living in a late capitalist hellscape.

If you want sex in an ongoing way as an adult then you have to make learning how to be a fun person to have sex with a priority. You need to learn how to have skills that make you good to have around. These are broad. Not every man has to have any particular specific skill–you are fully entitled to areas of weakness. I had to focus less on what I needed from someone else and more on what I can offer.

I married the guy who did the most classes. I don’t mean university. He took massage classes. He took dance classes (but holy shit don’t ever ask him to dance unless you want to hear a long rant about how much he hates all dance instructors 😂). He got a motorcycle. He took classes in hypnosis and NLP. He did tantra classes. He went to fucking spirituality weekend retreats all by his own damn self. He constantly reads books on how to be more effective at whatever new task he is about to add at his job. He went to a lot of kink classes. He went to sex classes. We still have all the damn handouts.

He knew that if he wanted to attract attention he needed to differentiate himself. When he arrived in adulthood he did not seem that interesting. He said that his dad told him that he better go learn how to have something to give because no one likes boys and young men.

Ouch. Yeah. I don’t think you could pay me to go through life as a boy. I was treated like shit. I knew beyond the shadow of doubt that I was white trash and every single one of the mother fuckers throwing dog shit at me would be delighted if I were to die. It happened in city after city after city after city. For years.

Fuck no. I don’t want to be a boy. That sounds really rough. How in the hell can people learn how to ask if the question is always wrong? How can there be a way of just magically knowing the right way? You I learn by making mistakes; I’ve made some fucking whoppers. My husband has made big mistakes.

I don’t know how to settle my brain around the limits of this small town. I think it is the best motherfucking thing in the world that I have a choke chain on.

The coping methods that served me well enough to create an extended network of friends and Leather Family really don’t work the same if I am never going to play with or have sex with anyone.

Throughout my life before moving here every single close friend I have had from early childhood has been a sex or bdsm partner. Now I’m just supposed to figure out how to do this thing I really don’t fucking know how to do. It’s terrifying and hard.

I have to go be told no over and over and over. I’m a polarising fucking figure. For every hour I spend trying to develop a friendship relationship with someone I probably get rejected for 15 overtures in a row. That’s not all with the same person. You can’t do that. It’s weird. People don’t like it. But if you wait a few months and try again it’s ok. Three no’s mean you stop asking forever.

Yes I am autistic and I like my fucking rules, ‘kay?

You can’t put all your eggs in one basket. You have to put a small amount of energy in a lot of directions. And it’s exhausting. IT IS FUCKING EXHAUSTING. Then I read about how little effort many men are putting into figuring out how to get laid. SEX IS FUCKING AWESOME AND I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU AREN’T WILLING TO DO THINGS TO GET IT. I mean, I gotta work pretty fucking hard these days for platonic friendships and you won’t put in this much effort for SEX. Buddy, these days I get laid any time I go to bed in a nightgown. He even calls me names and hurts me. He knows exactly where to fuck with my deep seated trauma issues.

He also cooks breakfast 6 days a week. He reads to our family and he does the best voices. Girl Genius comic books are fantastic to read out loud to anyone and I will die on this hill. He was a really tremendously shitty labour partner for our first two kids. So our friend’s mom came with us to the third birth and she told him what to do. You can always go find ways to get support to learn how to do what you need to do to be a better partner.

He doesn’t ask me to teach him how to get better for me. I don’t ask him to teach me how to get better for him. If I can’t tell when my behavior and attitude please him after this many years and this many thousands of hours of conversation then I want my money back this program sucks.

I try to keep a sense of humor about how much it sucks to have to force my face back into that carefully practiced in the mirror face that projects just the right amount of “I would be cheerful if you talked to me.” Fuck this shit. I don’t want to need community. I want to live alone in a box in the woods.

Who am I kidding. I’d die.

I want people in my life so much. I don’t know what shape I want that to take. I have no idea what my relationships with people will look like going forward. I have no internal map for this. Even more fun: I am now going on 4 years out of therapy after being in therapy on and off for my whole life because a lot of shit went down.

I think all these men want people as much as I do. I don’t know what any of them need to do because the penalties for mistakes are so hard.

I know that when I get the same feedback from three people all of whom I already respect that I need to spend some very serious time looking at what larger truth they are seeing that I am not seeing. If I get a bunch of no’s to offers I just need to try again at a different time and get busy living my own life in the meantime.

I do not understand being unwilling to change to get people to like you. I feel like it has been a highly abrasive 30 year process of getting me to anything like socially acceptable behaviour. I have had to learn many things and I have worked really hard.

It is weird feeling all the iterations of personality. All of the mistakes I have made have made an indelible impression.

You never forget the first time someone throws dog shit at you because you were stupid enough to say you liked them. I was 7.

When someone tells me they are too scared to ask for time with someone, a relationship of some sort I marvel. What would it be like to have a place in which it was safe to hide and be safe? I mean. I have it now?

It’s really fucking weird. Sometimes it is almost itchy.

Ah, I know why I am up at 2am writing this when usually I would go to sleep and not think that much about the plight of all these men who aren’t getting laid. Tonight my teenager and I went and took a course out in the vanilla world to possibly learn an activity. Details are unimportant. The point was the man running the presentation spent about 60%-70% of the night talking to me. I know he is roughly 30 years my senior.

That was a man who cheats on his wife anytime he can. It’s like blood in the water. There is a way of really staring. Holy shit have I practiced and practiced and practiced and practiced how to settle my eyes on someone or bounce from person to person to carefully not raise hackles. I got to do it when I was young enough to not earn significant punishments.

I learned it because the kinds of men who will have sex with children are very good at that kind of intense attention.

These are very messy things.

On the ride home we talked about it. He had never seen that happen to me before. The mantle of white motherhood is a fucking thing. Now he’s taller than me so I don’t get as much halo from his presence. He was absolutely incensed. To him this was grotesquely inappropriate.

Oh my god. What would it be like to live in a brain that believes it has the right to say no to the male gaze and have that matter? Whoa. Wait. How are people who like to have affairs supposed to find each other if EVEN LOOKING AT PEOPLE ISN’T OK?!?!?! Like, holy cheesetoast that’s a fucking tight rope to walk. Wait, isn’t the fact that you are someone who will break the rules part of the reason for the intrusive eye contact? Fucking a. Why am I assuming that he would actually end up being successful prey? Maybe the signals aren’t the same and I don’t know shit.

I mean, I don’t know shit.

I’m really good at finding people to fuck, though. I started with the only standard being “will say yes when I ask”. When you ask people that indiscriminately there is this whole cascade of complications. I doubt I would have gotten laid if everyone had phones. Thank god I’m hella old.

I am praying for you fellas. I hope you figure it out. I don’t think anyone else will do everything just like I did and that’s a good thing. Surely there is a happy medium?

It’s not about you

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We have played around with hypnosis a couple of times recently. The first time the induction was, in my experience as a bottom to this type of play, not particularly deep given how long it has been since we have played with going under. Given that most of the verbal dialogue was along the line of how we had been playing anyway it made stuff a little more intense but it didn’t feel like being hypnotised

I told him I thought we needed a more intense induction the next time because I didn’t really go down. So a couple of nights later we got to talking about how we were feeling and he mentioned that he kind of misses what we used to do with taking sleeping pills. I said I’d be happy to grab 2 pills and head to bed immediately. I suggested that the going to sleep part might be a good time to practice induction.

He did. One of the things that is interesting to me about hypnosis is how you can remember and not remember it. Like, I know what happened but I could not tell you what he was repeating rhythmically to me. I don’t know exactly what he was suggesting; I just have to trust him.

He asked me how it was for me and I said “It was a better induction, I felt more limp/unable to move around much. I felt like there was a lot of room for more of a goal/story. I know it was very sudden and you didn’t have time to think it out.

I am not sure what/how we should change something to make it easier for you to stay hard.

I also think that if you want me to actually go to sleep for it I will take M first then 3 L instead of 2. I have such a strong metabolism for sedatives. **

We should probably also aim to get started on that as close to 10 as possible.
Perhaps part of doing such play better involve you sending me to prepare for bed earlier so that I am already in bed and sleepy when you arrive.”

What he told me after that when we were lying in bed was quite instructive. He had not particularly wanted to be more hard. He wanted the gentle rubbing–that was for something inside of him. Something young and yearning and almost healing. It made him happy in a quiet way deep inside that it’s ok for him to use an immobilised woman to just rub on the way he has always wanted to. He isn’t bad for wanting it and in this context he isn’t even bad for doing it.

Oh shit, dude. My whiny selfish whore self had been thinking, “Enh it was alright but I didn’t really get fucked enough.” How very embarrassing. I have never been one for denial–people who try to withhold sex/orgasms as a way of making me interested usually find out I just don’t come back. But this is Noah and he gets to do whatever he wants and sometimes not fucking me is better for him.

Oh, shit.

So the thing is: if I want to transition from egalitarian into power imbalanced I have to find a new normal around this. I have to reframe what makes something a successful encounter. I didn’t need to get off. I was there for his use.

If he got to do something he has always wanted to do and he feels like this was a deeply satisfying experience… then it was wildly successful and I need to work on how I feel about it when it is happening and afterwards. I need to take pride in work well done, not feel cranky I didn’t get off. I can masturbate the next day. Well, until he tells me I can’t. Ugh.

Ok. I can work with that.

** For nosey people: my sleep medication usage is necessary for long term health concerns and without the play aspect there are times when I double or triple up. My doctor is aware and is comfortable with the number of pills I ingest on an annual basis.

Energetic adjustment

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Thanks T! This all because of you. 😘

So my boss at work, Rob, is this serious dick. He gets angry when I take initiate on projects in a way he wouldn’t and he undermines me constantly with my subordinates. I snapped in a meeting and told him that he can go fuck himself so he told me that if I want to come back to work on Monday I need to find a way to relax and not be such a bitch. He even knows a massage therapist–apparently going and getting a massage is now a job requirement. The company will even pay for it.

At first it seemed like a normal massage. We were chatting a little about how “everyone needs to learn their place” and how part of that is every person learning what they are best at providing. It seemed like general woo woo shit. He started on my back and he did a decent job. He asked me questions about myself and my personality. It was nice the way he alternated between penetrating questions and penetrating fingers followed by longer soothing strokes. It started getting a little weird after he asked me to roll over on my back and he pulled the cover sheet down all the way to my knees.

Then I noticed that he had no clothes on. What the fuck? He said he was Esalen trained and he needed to be able to “fully access my energy”. That’s some weird shit. Whatever, but then he started getting a little fresh. I told him to stop. I told him that I was married. He said, “Well, you want to keep your job, right? And you do need an energetic adjustment” then he grabbed my head and shoved his cock in my mouth.

I can’t help but get enthusiastic when a cock is in my mouth and he took that moment to simultaneously shove his fingers in my cunt and pinch my nipple really hard. He told me to come and I couldn’t stop the orgasm from rolling through me. He said he thought I was going to be that kind of girl.

Apparently my boss has a type. He hires girls based on them being mouthy and aggressive but what he really wants is someone who knows that the most important thing she should do when she is called into the bosses office is crawl under his desk and start sucking his cock. He doesn’t actually want to discuss what I should be doing–I’m supposed to get the work done. The reason he is so angry with me is because I am not using my one on one time right–I keep making him talk about how I am doing my job and he really doesn’t care.

What he cares about is that I am not yet getting on my knees to thank him for employing me.

Apparently Dave here trains the girls.

He yanked his cock out of my mouth while I was still shivering from the orgasm and he asked me how I was feeling about my place. I asked him how he was feeling about being a rapist.

He laughed and crawled up on the table to thrust his cock into my cunt. He said he feels great about being a rapist. He told me to come again and I did. He leaned on my chest with his forearm and pinched my nipple savagely and said, “And again” and I couldn’t help it.

He pulled out and sat up on his knees and he asked me if I knew my place yet. I told him to fuck off. He started slapping my pussy really hard. I couldn’t help it, I begged him to let me come and he said yes and I could feel the squirting. He looked at his wet hand and grinned and asked me if I was having a good time yet. I could barely squeak out an “uh huh”. He got up then and I wondered if it was over.

No he was off to get his camera and he took a variety of pictures that could end my marriage or potentially make it so I can’t keep my job.

Fuck.

He told me that he knows that I like to say no first before someone uses my pussy because that is my way of flirting–I probably learned it from my daddy. After all, Rob does have a type. I asked him how he knows about my Daddy and he laughed.

He set the camera down and climbed back up between my spread thighs. He kneeled and started slapping my breasts really hard. Of course this made me arch my cunt up really hard as the pressure started building. I had to beg him again to let me come. He shoved his cock into my cunt before saying yes so that he could feel it happen.

He leaned back and pulled my feet up onto his chest so he could press into me much more deeply. He started explaining that what happens next is up to me. I need this job. I can either keep the job and do what is required of me or I can quit. That will mean having to learn exactly how to sexually service Rob without him ever having to say a single word that could incriminate him in court or I can come back to Dave over and over for training. He grabbed my nipple and twisted it so hard it felt like it might come off and said, “I warn you that the training will get much more severe if you don’t learn quickly.” That made me come again, which was truly mortifying because I had to beg him for permission to come. He laughed and taunted me for a minute with brutal thrusts deep into my cunt before saying yes.

Sometimes I wish my Daddy hadn’t been so good at training me that I am not allowed to have an orgasm unless someone gives me permission. I can’t give myself permission. My body just won’t allow me to have that release. I suppose I should just feel grateful that Dave was happy about this surprise part of breaking in a new toy. It’s never good when someone says no and no and no and I have to ride that edge of agony. I imagine that much more severe training would involve a lot more of him saying no.

Oh no.

After that he laughed softly and pulled out. He spun lower half of my body around and started spanking me. I couldn’t stay quiet and I couldn’t stop the dripping from my cunt. It was so good. He talked a lot about how I had been raised right in some ways and not in others. I understood that it was my job to pretend I get to have boundaries because it is really hot when I spread my legs and accept the inevitable rape like the willing whore that I am. He said that my daddy had missed a few crucial points though. Whores are allowed to backtalk their daddies but never their bosses. Not if we want to stay employed. If we want to keep that job we need to open our holes and say thank you and work hard to never need our boss commenting on our actual job roles. I will know I am a good employee when I am so full of come that my boss never has time to discuss my actual job responsibilities. Rob got to use all of his time in exactly the right way and that is the true goal of my job: to please Rob and allow him to do exactly what he wants, when he wants.

I said yes, yes. I will do whatever I have to do. I will do whatever you want. I want to be your whore. I want to be Rob’s whore.

He got off the table again and took more photographs of me splayed out lewdly. He put his cock right up next to my face and took another photograph of me sticking out my tongue just to lick the tip. Then he told me that in addition to the photographs he has also been making an audio recording. He said it is really easy for him to edit it to remove the part about rape and make this whole thing sound like something I set up for myself.

He said he’d love to see my husband’s face when he heard me gasping that I want to be his whore and begging him to let me come.

Then he pulled a vibrator out of a drawer and started using it on my pussy while he went back to alternating slapping my breasts with twisting my nipple and telling me to come. He asked me if I felt like my energy was adequately adjusted. Before I could catch my breath to answer he told me to come again.

I am not sure I have ever come so hard in my life. Every muscle in my left leg from the hip to the toe locked in an agonizing cramp from the intensity of the orgasm.

He pulled back and grinned at me. He looked pretty amused by my involuntary full body spasms. When I had almost caught my breath again he started to move towards me again.

I gasped as loud as I could, “Yes! Yes! I am adjusted!!! I AM ADJUSTED!!!”

He smiled and turned the vibrator off. “Right. You can put your clothes back on. I’ll see you again–next week at the same time work for you?”

I could barely manage a nod before he slapped my pussy one last time before walking out of the room.

I don’t know what I am going to tell my husband.

(PS, I’m using “Behavior Modification” because apparently you can’t tag with rape? How very odd.)