A certain degree of intelligence is required for any animal to adapt, the more intelligent the animal is the easier it is for it to adapt, therefore intelligence is strength.
First I need to ask what details your most interested in? Or I will tell this story my way, and that may take a few days. I'm not even going by the book. This is a lot more honest, and raw.
(Which makes me think I've figured out which me, I need to reconcile.)
I will skip to the grit, if that's what you want, but will say that it might leave you with a lot of question, and I get weary of too many questions.
As for the quote: I really like it. Nature adapts. Evolution forces many species to adapt. But evolution is slow. So I suppose intelligence can help that along, but nature makes no mistakes.
"A certain degree of intelligence is required for any animal to adapt, the more intelligent the animal is the easier it is for it to adapt, therefore intelligence is strength."
Before I start going into my relationship with Karl, let me first say that I was a very odd child growing up. Even compared to the my other siblings. I wouldn't talk to anyone, even if I got a beating for not doing so. I was very paranoid, and skeptical of everything, but I was also raised in a very cold bubble.
I had no understanding of affection, or intimacy. The 3 people who raised me, were very callous, abusive, and violent.
It was a bubble, because I was moved around so much, I had nothing to compare my home life to for very long, and my father only taught us things that would best serve him.
So I didn't respond to danger, or socially unexceptionable behavior, the way other kids did. I only see this as an adult, with so much more to compare my thoughts and actions to.
I think that's what drew Karl to me the most. I wasn't shocked by him, and I didn't question whether he were odd, or wrong.
I was hungry for him. That what I know over anything else. I was just very hungry, sexually.
Before Karl, I'd only had sex once, and I had been on acid at the time, so it was bizarre. I even remember some kids from the party I was at, coming in the room to talk to my boyfriend, while he was trying to fuck me.
So I consider Karl, my first experience with reality and sex.
What hooked me to Karl above all things was the sex. With him, nothing was taboo. That was perfect for me because, I didn't know what taboo was, not did it occur to me to question right or wrong sex. It's true I grew up in a strict religious setting. My father was a minister, and my mother's father was one. But no matter what the Bible taught, or my family taught, I thought my own way.
It just didn't penetrate my skin. I always followed my nature, rather than the teachings of home and school.
It was so much louder, and urgent; my nature. I wanted to inhale Karl. Absorb him into my own tissue, and vital organs. He seemed to feel the same way. But with so much intensity, comes a crash period.
In Karl it was not just taboo for its own sake, it was taboo for the sake of transcending the human. When I absorbed the intensity of his passion and nourished myself on it I felt reborn.
He was like a volcano on fire.
A dark, half-born animal who cast no shadow. But fire consumes all it touches.
When I was in my teens, I was into punk more than anything, but though I had a very edgy look, I was still reserved when it came to dress.
Karl had a girlfriend already, and she dressed very provocative. I remember a time when she came to visit him at the hospital, and she was made to stay outside, in the hall, because her manner of dress was too revealing.
I dressed in layers, so I remember Karl tearing the crotch out of all my tights, so he'd have easier access to me, without having to tear my clothes off
I didn't think of us as a couple, or even thought of myself as the other woman. I wasn't very traditional, you might say. I wasn't one to fantasize about getting married and having babies. Sex was all that drove me.
So it didn't matter to me if he kept his other girl, as long as I was getting sex.
That weekend was the beginning of a very interesting 2 years. His friend had decided she didn't want to take me in. She was 27, and 2 months pregnant with the child of, she didn't know who.
Karl was one of her favorite trysts, and she was very angry at him for expecting that she would want to help me. So he decided we would just show up at her door anyway, and he would just leave me there. Not give her a choice.
To get there, I would have to climb out of his window early Monday morning, and take the school bus, to Karl's school. He wasn't allowed to take the bus anymore, so I would have to go it alone.
"Just stand there and act like you know you're supposed to be on that bus." He told me, when I got paranoid that I would be found out, and therefor caught.
Then I would arrive at his school and wait for him to find a friend who was willing to ditch, and drive us to his friend's place.
Nothing phased Karl. He was always very confident in his missions. Keeping a network of girls, who are attracted to you, is very useful So it was another girl who agreed to take us.
His friend was pissed! That's when I saw him turn on the charm. He never did that with me. He wrote me violent poems sometimes, but he was never soft with me. She of course agreed to "maybe", keep me for a couple of weeks
Karl winked at me, and was out the door. I knew it was now up to me, to charm her into keeping me.
Eden Ralene said... In Karl it was not just taboo for its own sake, it was taboo for the sake of transcending the human. "When I absorbed the intensity of his passion and nourished myself on it I felt reborn.
He was like a volcano on fire.
A dark, half-born animal who cast no shadow. But fire consumes all it touches."
You sound very familiar to me. I welcome your help in translating my story.
She was so fucking mean to me! lol She pointed to my room and told me to leave her, so she could go back to sleep.
"I'm on food stamps, and pregnant, so don't expect me to feed you." She had a strong New York accent.
"Don't expect me to give a shit about you, just cause I'm doing Karl a favor. If I saw you on the streets, I'd just think you were another fucking trashy wannabe punk, and walk away!"
I nodded, and went to my room. Smoked cigarette; one after the other. It was cold, because it was still January, and I only had the clothes on my back. She offered no blanket... so there I was, starving in the cold, with nothing to do but smoke, and think of how to win this cunt over, so I could survive!
I haven't even begun to describe Karl yet. This is not a story to prove what Karl was or I was, it is a story about a different kind of understanding, in the mating realm, between two strange animals.
I take my time in building up to the grit. What is a story without anticipation? I'm just setting up the scene.
@Bette
The Eden Ralene in black, wasn't me. I was addressing him/her.
After Karl left me, I didn't hear from him for two weeks. I managed to win Theresa over, but I wasn't one for using a mature style in charm. I was more childlike.
It made the most sense for my survival, to me. If you don't want people to see you as a threat, you don't come at them with a street mentality. You come as a helpless child, in need of protection.
My family history has always been useful in winning people over. The story of the abused and extremely deprived, cover a variety of behaviors, and ill manners.
She let her guard down, and decided to keep me, as long as I got a job to help with the rent.
I kept my relationship with Karl, a secret. If Theresa knew, there's no way she would let me stay there.
She hated most women. She told me it was because she thought they were stupid, and prissy, and were big fat liars, but I could see through her.
She fancied herself as some queen of the punk scene in our city, and all women were competition to her. She warmed to me, because I looked more boyish, and wasn't didn't show my feminine side very much.
Still, I wasn't with Karl. That was the most important thing to her. And not being with Karl meant I got to sit and listen to her poor her heart out, about all the juicy stuff she knew of "her" Karl, and how she felt about him.
I learned for instance that when he was 12, he had a guy friend from school give him head. I was happy she told me that. I don't think Karl would have.
It turned me on, and gave me the secret satisfaction of knowing that I wasn't the only one willing to explore other methods of sating my hunger. After not hearing from him for two weeks, and listening to her stories of him, my appetite was driving me crazy.
At the same time, I'm sure Karl wasn't even thinking about me much. In his mind, I already belonged to him, and that was enough for the time being.
If you'd like to ask a few questions Bette, I'm game.
I'm having to do this from work, and so I have to thump it out, and go back to business. Which is good. It doesn't give me time to edit before I punch enter.
some of my questions may be premature...i'll wait and see what;s next...i'm very curious how this impacted you later in life ..whether having such an intense sexual/emotional experience so early on ruined or damaged subsequent relationships...having the bar set to that level of intensity makes later relationships disappointing in my experience.. were you resentful at others for not getting you to that same place?
Im already curious about where he is now but i'm jumping ahead...i'm guessing balding in suburbia or prison..
I will tell you where he is, when the story is complete. :)
To answer your question on the subject of sexuality. I was already very sexual by nature, from extremely young. Even before my father started trying to mess with me.
I was trying to get into the pants of boys, from the age of 4.
So if Karl hadn't been so sexual as he was, it would have been disappointing. I have to say that I'm excited you asked this question. It never really occurred to me till you did, that it's been the biggest problem in my experience of sex ever since.
He set the bar high as you can get it, in my opinion... and it probably ruined me for anyone else, as far as getting my needs met. But I could never regret the experience. It was the wildest ride of my life.
So let's talk about what kind of beast Karl was....
I knew Karl was violent. I didn't go into this not knowing... I just didn't care.
He stirred things up in the hospital like no one there. The staff and all the doctors hated him. When he defied them, he did it in as vulgar a way as possible. His job there was to piss everyone off! They were always having to strap him to the bed in the "solitary" room. Nothing they did worked... he'd just laugh at them for even trying.
One time, while they had him strapped down... I went to the window to peak in on him. It was before I had given in to him. When we were still enemies... and he caught me.
He looked so vulnerable, but I knew he wasn't, because I saw that split second when his mask changed. Like he wanted me to see a beast who could be tamed. I was very aroused to see him bound by leather straps, to a hospital bed.
Later on in our relationship, I would become aroused every time I saw him get arrested too... but let's not get ahead of ourselves. ;)
After two weeks, I got a call from Karl. Well, he had to call Theresa and talk to her first. He teased me about having to go without his touch for so long, and told me he'd be down to see me when he could.
Before he hung up, he asked me if I'd be his girl. I told him yes without hesitation, but deep within me, I knew what that might mean. How much of him would I be willing to take, in order to get my own needs met?
My mother used to say that she saw me as a wild animal sometimes, or demon possessed. Always just running in the direction of what I craved... trampling everything in my path to get it.
I didn't understand what she meant by that at the time, but I do now. And she was right. I wanted what I wanted. Nothing was going to stop me from having it. No amount of danger would ever keep me from the source of what I craved... but no amount of the sorrow of others would either.
It didn't matter who I hurt in the path of my . I just wanted to get there.
It was fun when he would come to visit me because we had to play little games, to keep Theresa from suspecting.
In the hospital, Karl and I had made up a code to write in. The staff would go through everyone's journals and belongings if they suspected anyone was forming attachments, that were inappropriate. So he made up the first half of the alphabet, and I did the second half.
I was given a day to memorize it, and them instructed to shred it. We then passed notes to each other in code only. It was fucking brilliant!
So staying true to the form we took with each other in the hospital, we sort of started speaking in code, when she was in the room. It was also exciting to have to hide in dark rooms, to kiss and touch before she could catch us.
Anticipation mixed with the thrill of not getting caught, was my foreplay. I knew I'd be on the streets in a heartbeat if she saw us, but I already knew life on the streets. What would it matter?
He was so fucking rude to her. I often wondered why she put up with it. In Theresa's mind, this was just punk life. The men were expected to be vile, and abusive.
I guess that's what attracted him to that lifestyle. It suited his nature, and everyone around would just think he was just going through a rebellious phase!
I'm doing this per Bette's request, and I'm self employed. I'll say that I didn't originally intend to tell the story like this, but I'm crazy manic right now, so change of plans.
@ erin look into bdsm....some submissive play might do you some good...much more effective than the mental masturbation you engage in on here...it is fucking cathartic
I started working about three weeks after I was left at Theresa's. I'll skip over the blow up I had with my father, when I told him to hand over all the shit I needed so I could get the job in the first place. Let's just say he left me on the side of a highway, in the middle of a canyon 36 miles from anywhere.
I had to take a city bus everywhere. I look back now, knowing how young I must have looked even for my age, and can't believe I went everywhere alone, and never got fucked with.
Theresa worried about me like a lunatic. She said I could pass for 12, and would probably end up dead in a gutter somewhere. I just wasn't afraid. My father used to let me walk several blocks to school alone, from the age 6; even in the bigger cities.
Maybe it was that... or maybe I was just some punk kid who didn't think she could be taken down so easy.
I called Karl from a payphone to let him know I had a job, and could take the bus to see him if he wanted.
He was excited, and told me he wanted to treat me, in honor of my new freedom. "I want to surprise you with something," he said. "There's a place I want to take you, so I can give you that fuck you've been waiting for!"
I was ready! It didn't matter where we were going, or what the surprise was... I was ready to fuck!
He took me to a drainage tunnel, at the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. It was one of his favorite places to go as a child.
We went just far enough inside, where the light touched the edge of darkness. Further than that would be pitch black, and it was a long ways down to get to the other end.
I told him I wanted to give him head, but I'd never done it before, so he told me he'd instruct me. Until that day, I'd never had an orgasm while having sex. This was the cause of a great deal of frustration for Karl, and he was eager to master the trick.
So after my first try at head, and not being able to pull it off without cutting him with my teeth... he decided to see if he could make me cum by rubbing my clit while we fucked.
Worked like a charm! And while still breathless and slightly dizzy, he pulled me up and said, "and now for the surprise!"
Half way through the tunnel, in the pitch black, Karl let go of my hand.
I became disoriented, and didn't feel steady on my feet. I listened for Karl's footsteps, and then he called from not so far ahead of me... "Just listen for my movement, if you start to get confused."
I had to stop a couple of times to listen, because it was such a mental fuck on my senses. I don't know why I didn't just call out to him in the dark... and then it suddenly occurred to me, that other people might be hiding out in the darkness.
Karl had told me when we first got there, that homeless people slept there all the time. I started to get paranoid. What was he playing at? But I was also very excited. Danger was like my foreplay as well.
As I was imagining myself accidentally stumbling over a body in the dark... I noticed I couldn't hear Karl's footsteps anymore.
I stopped so I could listen, and get my bearings, but nothing.
"Karl, I can't hear you moving anymore," and listed further... he didn't answer.
"Karl, stop fucking with me!", then I heard a *click* behind me.
My imagination started up again, and though I knew that Karl was playing a game with me, my mind still doubted that's all there was.
"hey!"
Came a whisper right at my ear, as he grabbed at my shoulder, causing me to stumble a little. A sharp rush of adrenaline went through me, and I stiffened under his embrace.
Now I felt like I might be in danger, and this at the touch of my lover.
I felt something sharp run up my right leg and find my crotch. It was his knife, and he made small circles with it as if he were trying to stimulate me.
"Does this make you wet?"
I wasn't really sure if it did, but I knew this game already: Don't show weakness. I didn't answer him.
"Answer me bitch!"
I waited. I wasn't about to take orders from him, yet I wasn't opposed to submitting either. Always this conflict inside me...
So he gave me an intensive. He put the knife to my throat and made it clear that he would cut me if I didn't play along. I don't think he would have try to kill me. Not then anyway. If you asked me two years later, did I think he would kill me... I'd say most definitively. But this was just beginning, and I knew I must resolve my conflict if I were going to keep him.
"I want you." I whispered back to him.
"What do you think you'd regret if I were to kill you right now?" he tested.
I was deeply confused now. What was the right move on the board? Was I supposed to show fear or strength? I chose strength.
"I would have no regrets." I said.. and then he pulled me closer to him, tighter... like he wanted to squeeze the living shit out of me.
"If I were to kill you right now, I would still fuck you. I'd fuck your dead body!"
There was always some small part of me that thought he was full of shit... but we were still getting to know each other, so I didn't want to be overly confident. Karl was harder for me to read than other people.
He ended our date by dragging me down the tunnel in what seemed like a rage.
Out of the darkness, and into the light... he threw me into the dirt, and shut my eyes hard after feeling the sting of the bright sun. Then he was on top of me, pulling all my clothes from me.
We were no longer under cover of the tunnel. It was out in the open, and he didn't care. But then, neither did I.
He started fucking me hard, like he was trying to communicate some kind of punishment to me, at the end of his cock. I wrapped my whole self around his, and took him in over and over, with just as much intensity.
I submitted to him completely that day. I just believed. Nothing else mattered exceot that one belief, that he was strong enough to be master of me...
I have actually considered it. My memoir is my baby, and when it's published, I will try my hand at fiction. But I already know I'm not very good at fiction so far, unless its a short... so dark erotica might be right up my alley.
This is me, with no editing, and punching it out quickly. I like this. I hate the boundaries, when I write, and playing or standards set by publishing companies.
He was the key to unlocking every primitive place inside my mind. When I was with him, I didn't have to work some angle. I could be wicked and still be good.
He was kicked out of his grandparents house not long after that. It was a habit with them. He made me laugh because I saw his antics with the eyes of my dark humor, and with childish wonder.
When he got sick, he'd spit in his grandmother's prune juice! I still smile when think about that.
It was not so strange that I was entertained by his subtle, and his blatant cruelty to others. It was more unusual what did get under my skin.
Like the fact that when he lived with his grandparents, they stocked the garage with orange Gatorade, because that's the only flavor he liked. I hated orange Gatorade, so it irritated me to watch him drink it all day long.
I hated the smell of the Aussie shampoo he used in his hair, and told him he smelled like a Metallica tape, knowing how much he hated them. He of course, did what he wanted no matter what I complained about. They were very odd things, now that I think about it, but I was still a growing girl. Who knows the insanity the human mind is capable of better than a teenage girl?
He would only playfully punish me for being so mouthy... but every now and then a little more of the beast would peak from behind my lover's playful mask...
The first time it did was after he moved back in with his girlfriend.
He had just turned 18, and she was already 21. Theresa was pissed we this happened, but I saw it as an opportunity. There were rules at his former abode, and his grandma was always home.
When he moved in with Marcy, I would go to their place while she was at work, to fuck him.
I've told some of this story to friends of mine, and they always get angry that I didn't feel rage or jealousy... but then that's what all my doctors had a problem with too. Detachment from what would seem to be the appropriate way to feel.
I didn't analyze myself back then though... so it get's tricky trying to describe, what I still can't fully understand.
It was my first visit, and it was time to learn how to move my body when I was on top of him. He cradled my hips, and gently guided them to what ever movement pleased him. I liked being on top. I wanted to have control over the pleasure he gave me, and when.
I also wanted control over myself. To train myself to hold back a little... the way I saw him hold back, when he was trying to tease me.
It was the first time he had pulled my hair, like he was finally taking hold of the reins on a filly, who was trying to jump the fence. It was perhaps a warning that I was getting a little too cocky and was starting to fancy myself the master. He bit me hard. Not on the neck, but on my stomach. Hard enough to draw some blood. It made me tightened every muscle, and I came to a climax without the help of his fingers soon after.
That wasn't the startle though.
It was when I was getting dressed to leave. I don't know what smart ass thing I must have said to him, but it was pretty below the belt... and he knew I meant it.
He grabbed the paddle brush from his girlfriend's dresser, and hit me in the back of my head as hard as he could with it! I just sat there, staring at him in disbelief.
He wasn't playing that time.
I got up with a, "fuck you!" and stormed out of the room, and to the door. I was trembling... I was so inflamed. He actually ran after me though, which seemed out of character for him. He usually didn't give a shit about what made me mad, but he pulled my too him, and said he was sorry.
"Don't leave me," he said almost too dramatically, as if in some movie.
But I liked it when he played some role with me. Movies were how I learned what people liked to see when they looked at each other... I always went right into character as soon as he gave me my cue.
"Don't hurt me like that." I told him... in that same theatrical manner.
He started calling me his twin soul after that... but even identical twins have to come to that moment where their invisible ties must be cut.
I understood Karl well, but that didn't make me him. I was always my own... and that would set a new dynamic in motion. A power struggle that would take us to a stand off... where if I were to stay with him, one of us was going to end up dead.
He didn't keep pets, but I knew he like to torture animals. His grandparents lived at the foothills of a mountain, and they always had rabbits coming around.
He showed me a trick, where if you hit them in the right spot on their head, they kind of go into a convulsive fit, and stat flopping all over the place
He also had a been put in a juvenile detention center when he was maybe 12 or 13, for setting fire to a mesa not far from home. His friends had ratted him out.
Maybe it was to get a reaction... but he didn't. Sometimes that pissed him off... and sometimes he just laughed.
Eventually it would set him off more than anything. I knew this. He wanted me to fear him... and would go to greater lengths to reach his goal the longer we were together.
Any more questions from the checklist? Did he have a conscience?: as an example...
No he did not. This was confirmed when the base player in his band did in a gruesome car accident. which left him decapitated... and though he was a long time childhood friend, Karl laughed his butt off, and told me he wished he could have been there to see it.
Have we effectively established that he's was a sociopath then?
He was 14 through 17, when he played in that band. It was a punk band, and he never got ended up getting a gig. He pissed people off too much to make anything a success.
Karl was not about "impression management". He didn't care if people hated him or if he stayed out of trouble. He became an addict and eventually was in and out of jail all the time for violence, and crime.
That's all you're getting out of me... I haven't finished telling my story for the ladies.
"When I hear a woman say she was very sexual and active right from childhood (Eden being one) accompanied by a fact that it wasn't until years later that they learned to achieve orgasm (again Eden being one) I sure am at a loss.
Sex without an orgasm is only a torture."
@Sceli
I'd appreciate it, if you would not change my story. If you're going to read it, and put your two cents in, that's fine... but at least pay attention to detail first.
It wasn't until I was 16 that I started having sex. I had my first orgasm through sex, at 16.
I had my first orgasm without sex, when I was 4... but I'm not telling my whole life story here... just my experience with Karl.
Would you like to hear more, or have I been taking up too much of your time? ;)
I can tell you that there is still a great deal of experimental sex, and I'll start going more into we started living together... (might even just skip to that, and leave a gap as far as my life with Theresa.)
But there is more brutality to the story of us living together, than hot sex.
First tell me what's attracting you to the story? I hear victims on here talking about their experiences as if the whole time, they were in anguish.
Karl was my high, and my outlet. He was the beast in me that wanted an exit, but he was also a good example of what I didn't want to become.
I learned so much from that one experience in my life, and consider myself lucky to have learned it so young.
We didn't have internet. Everyone didn't have a cell phone. I didn't sit around all day trying to self diagnose, or analyze why I did the things I did. It was 1992, and we were busy living in only the real world... not some cyber bubble where everything was safe.
Before I continue on, I will say Karl was the one and only man I allowed to do what he did. When I left him behind... That was it for me. No other man was allowed to dominate me after him. I didn't go out seeking more abuse.
I went out ready to start my life. Why I didn't slip back into the submissive role, I don't know for sure... That is why I tell this story.
@ eden...I'm loving the story...you are in many ways telling a story I am very familiar with... i def want to hear more...
actually i was very sexual at a young age as well...I was not super orgasmic until later in life..
@ erin your a strange bird...you act so prudish and shocked but you so desperately want to experience exactly what you felt with your s bf..but don't want the negative shit that comes with it...can't have it both ways..
do i need a google acct to create a blogger profile? Im sick of typing my screen name every time i post
Well it will certainly stir up some shit in here with the ladies, I'm sure.
When it comes to predator vs. prey... most people like to keep their black and white views. They don't like any sign of gray. "Choose a side!", they cry out...
He didn't see the need to get a job, or pull his weight as long as he could find people to do it for him.
Interestingly, he didn't really expect me to play the part of the slave. He never really ordered me around. It was obvious that I was the functional one, of the two of us, and I'm sure he just figured I do what I wanted as it suited my needs, and in doing so he got his needs met as well.
So if I got tired of him hanging around, he simply went back to whomever would allow him to leach.
3 things happened the month I turned 17:
1. I was fired from my job.
2. Theresa kicked me out
3. Karl decided he wanted us to be committed to each other.
This is when things got really ugly between us. I was in heaven when we could not be together, and I only got to see him once in a while, but once he decided he wanted us to be a couple, and live together, I resisted... at first.
He was living back with his grandparents when Theresa kicked me out. I had two weeks to find a place, and she was staying with her mother until I did.
So Karl stayed with me at the apartment, while I figured out what to do.
I loved the sex, but hated that we still had to be in each others presence when we were done.
We were not romantic I guess you could say. Intimacy didn't make since to me. It's like when you try to write with the other hand. It makes your brain feel kind of funny.
Karl and I had a different way of showing our love. I used to steal needles from hospitals, and draw my blood out with them, then store it in small bottles. I'd add alcohol so the blood wouldn't coagulate, and dress the bottles up, so they were presentable as a gift.
I also used my blood to write him poetry sometimes.
Karl would draw what he called "fry pads" for me. It was like a web of his favorite displays of violence, entangled together in one beautiful pattern. And when I would mention things I liked, he'd go steal them for me.
But when we were together my last two weeks at Theresa's, it was very dull. I didn't know what to do with him once we were spent from sex.
We fried a couple of times, and that was a fun ride. We did well on acid together, and discovered that sex when you're coming off acid is amazing!
Like being on E.
I felt like we were melting into each other. It never had felt so good to touch someone, and be touched.
But when the two weeks were up, I was more than happy to have him return home, and I became homeless once more.
I had a car by this time, but it was always breaking down, and it was October. '92 was a very cold year, and we started getting unusual amounts of snow.
It was hard to sleep in my car on the coldest night, so I would wait till late at night, and crawl into Karl's bedroom window.
Sometimes I'd stay with one of the foster families I'd lived with 2 years prior, but it was always made clear to me that I couldn't stay for long.
One of them kept urging me to get a place with Karl, but I already knew the road I'd be going down if I did.
I even told my "foster mother": "I can't live with Karl. He used to beat his ex girlfriend, and we'd probably kill each other!"
(This ids the foster mother I told you about, Erin. The one who's son killed himself, and her reaction was: I feel only peace. It was his time to go.)
She told me that maybe I was probably just afraid to let someone get close to me, and wanted to see Karl as abusive, so I wouldn't have to commit.
I quickly ran out of places to stay. For what ever reason, no one wanted me to live with them... so Karl suggested we use the same trap we used on Theresa; with his grandmother.
I didn't want to freeze to death in my car. I chose the road to violence. It was no longer about freedom, or sex... it was about staying alive now.
I'll have to scan one I drew myself, when I was 19. Then I'll post just for you. But I'll do this later... Right now I'm getting ready to do a few things with the kiddos, and I'll post more of the story in between activities.
The house was enormous so it was an easy life on our side of it. Easy as eating apple pie; that was my life there.
I guess you could say I was like Karl when it came to being in a position of having people take care of everything for me.
I slept in every day, while Karl was having to go to school
I had promised to look for a job, get on my feet, and be out after a few months, but that wasn't what I was doing.
The only thing I did while I was there: Wash my own clothes.
It would be all to easy for me to slip into a life of never working, and playing, always.
A friend of mine once said it was my "Peter Pan Syndrome", which included not only my not wanting any adult responsibilities, but also my inability to attach myself to people.
All my foster parents were turned sour on me, because I didn't treat them with the respect you give a family. I stayed for as long as they were needed... then get bored and abandoned them.
I guess Karl's family was no different. I wasn't their kid...
That was how I reasoned people not wanting to take me in any more. I just wasn't their kid, or they would have put up with it.
Karl and I had reached a new level in our sexual relationship.
I had always been fascinated with porn, and with Karl I was able to explore that. But masturbation has always been the most interesting for me. One day, while sprawled out across his bed, looking through his porn mags, I just suddenly asked... "Karl, what do you think about when you masturbate?"
He smiled at me, with the smile he reserved for only teaching sessions.
"I think about blood. I think about killing, and fucking you when your dead."
I pondered his words for the rest of the day. Why wouldn't you think about sex with the living, while you masturbate.
I didn't fantasize when I would masturbate. I couldn't focus long enough to do it. It was like the whole saying: Can't walk and chew gum at the same time. So I would just let my mind wander.
But I wanted to know how people did it, and obviously Karl wasn't the right source for learning that. He had his ways and I had mine. I enjoyed watching him masturbate. I loved seeing the hungry look on his face when our eyes met.
I told him that when I was a little girl, I tried to imagine what it felt like to have a penis. I even had dreams about having one. This got him hard as steal, and he would tell me how much he'd love to show me what that might be like some day...
I still have dreams about having a cock. It feels fucking fabulous!
I think every experience in life is worth it. You see life in terms of losses and gains. I see life in terms of levels and strengths.
Why do you regret so much? Reflective memory can keep your mind frozen to some place in time, no longer useful to you.
It's just a story now, Erin. It's not happening anymore. Once a person or place becomes a thing of the past, your memory of it, is no longer a living thing. It's history... and nothing more than that.
My expiration at Karl's came after the holidays. In fact, they specifically said they were waiting for the holidays to be over to kick me out.
I always find that odd. Is it worse to be homeless during the holidays?
But Karl's mother was moving out again, and offered to take me with her, as long as I got a job.
The place she found, was a 30 minute drive from the foothills. It wasn't where I wanted to be. It was outside of the city somewhat, and there'd be nothing for me to do but work... but things had been getting tense between Karl and I.
He was starting drinking on weekends with his friends from school, and just leave me at home. When he would come home, it's like I was just part of his bedroom furniture. He was probably fucking other girls by this point, but he'd never own to it.
I'd already made it clear that if he got to play outside the relationship, I could too. I had been with an old boyfriend while still living with Theresa. Why should I have to wait for him to get my needs met?
But Karl was done pretending to be fair. I belonged to him, and that was that. He wasn't fucking me anymore, and was preoccupied with some girl from his school. We got into fights constantly. So I was ready to leave him; get some distance between us.
I couldn't call him very often, because I had to go to a payphone. So I just let him be. His mother would drive us up to the grans on the weekends to do laundry, but he would never stay to visit me.
He just took off with his friends, and not even say word to me. His mother started spilling all the beans once she saw how he was treating me.
Stories about serious behavior problems from when he was just a toddler, and fires he set... the way he was with his ex, and how he had always eluded her.
She started getting a bit pissy with me, when I questioned what her role had been as his mother. I just always figured if there were problems with the child, you know who to look at.
I stopped going up to the grans, once it was obvious I wasn't going to get anything out of it... but I wasn't going to forget this. I knew he wouldn't stay away for long.
I was his possession. He already saw me as the girl no one else could have, and it was going to be that way as long as I was alive.
His mother moved in with her new boyfriend, but kept paying half the rent. Karl still wouldn't get a job, and all he wanted to do was drink, start fights, and steal shit.
He was like child raised by devils. The world was his playground to set chaos off in. We had many good times. Our pass times got a bit outrageous. One time, we filled two socks up with gravel and more socks, took our shirts off, and beat the shit out of each other, in the front yard.
It was good for us. It was just another form of release, like sex... but charged in a different way. The harder we hit, the more excited we both got. We did have rules though. No head shots!
When we fought, it was becoming just as violent as our play. One day after we got into an argument about him getting job... he pulled me into the kitchen by my hair, so I grabbed a skillet and hit him in the back of the head.
"No head shots fucking bitch! That's the rules!" he screamed.
I bolted out of the house when I realized I was in deep shit now! I had expected him to be knocked out!
It's not easy to knock a psyco lunatic out apparently! I tried lots of times and it never worked!! Remember that boys and girls!
im here...keep on please...where are we in the story? how much time has past from the time you left the hospital? I need a sense of time..
@ erin i so don;t get your analysis...many don;t even get to experience that kind of passion and intensity...i would savor what you had..it is a choice to stay in the past...one that must have a pay off for you...once you figure out that payoff and see that it really doesn't serve you, you will be able to move on...i get the sense that you don;t really want to move on...you enjoy being a victim and fighting these imaginary demons...as i said earlier mental masturbation..
Karl started hanging out with an even rougher crowd that summer. Skin Heads.
None of them claimed to be racist. In fact, the alpha of the group was half black, and half white. He was juggernaut. A second degree black belt, who was built like a some fucking warrior straight out of Heavy Metal Magazine!
Most of these boys had done hard time. None of them were even 25 yet. They had a whole mess of girls who hung around like bang groupies, or cult followers. That's how I saw them anyway. They just seemed out of place somehow.
They were allowed to talk to me, but Karl would not allow them to forge friendships with me. In his mind, everyone was trying to get down my pants... even the girls... he wanted it known who's girl I was.
I didn't care much. At this point I had been isolated from friendships and family so long, I wouldn't have known how to be their friend.
We all went out together, like a team of bandits. They never paid for beer. Every night 2 guys were appointed the "beer runners", and they would walk in to a gas station real casual like, grab what they wanted, and bolt out the door to the get away car!
Even in the early 90's security sucked. I sometimes reminisce about the good 'ol days, when a lot of stores didn't even have cameras yet.
I never paid for cigarettes, or clothes. And I'm not just talking about when I was with Karl. I had been stealing shit since I was 9 or 10.
I guess I figured I had the right. I lived in poverty, I came from very limited options. FUCK 'EM!!!
One night we stole some beer and headed for a graveyard to hang out in. Karl's way of showing me affection. It was one of my favorite things to do as a child; walk around old grave yards, and read the headstones.
I'd make up stories about the dead, and try to imagine what the bodies must look like now.
The whole gang was with us. I took off on my own, but could hear everyone close by, laughing and making stupid dead baby jokes... It was getting chilly now. Fall was on its way.
I loved this time of the year. Something electric passes through the atmosphere that magnetizes everything around it, just before everything starts to die.
When everybody started to regroup, one of the other guys noticed that I was shivering, and offered me his jacket. I told him no right away, knowing what would happen if Karl were to see me wearing some other guy's jacket... but it didn't matter that I had refused him.
Karl saw the offer take place, and though he kept very quiet, I knew what he was thinking.
Before we left I caught a glimpse of a very old head stone that had my birth date on it: October 22. But he date of the death was 1930 something. She was a nun. 'Mother Mary Margaret'. I told Karl I wanted it... so several of the guys, and Karl tried to pull it up... but it wouldn't budge.
We left once we saw the light from a flashlight, making its way in our direction. I thought that maybe Karl was over what he's seen earlier with all the excitement... I was wrong.
@ erin anyone can do it..the key os to find someone who knows what they are doing..you'd be better off to learn what its all about ...and see if it interests you..its not physical as much as it is psychological..
This is what it is in very simple terms...is it is consensual, therefore, is not abuse...
* Is based on the safe, sane, consensual theory * S&M is a controlled environment * S&M has safe words to stop the scene * In a S&M scene the dominant looks out for the well being of the submissive * S&M can be an erotic sexual encounter * In S&M both partners are enjoying themselves * in S&M the dominant respects limits * In S&M there is mutual respect * In S&M the relationship is fulfilling * In S&M both parties feel they contribute towards the relationships * In S&M one can ask their partner to "play" * In S&M relationship there is trust * In S&M a submissive voluntarily serves the dominant * S&M is about building trust * S&M builds self esteem * S&M builds the spirit of a submissive
@Eden You are so bad.It is like a Stephan King novel and I can't even read it, myself. One swat to you :)
Bette This is my dilemma. I really do want to experience what you say but I need to do it in the context of love and trust. I need to know that that person is my friend,the person I have committed to and vice versa.
My body is very sacred to me. I have,always,been this way. I may have low self esteem with my emotions,but my body only goes to someone who loves me and me,him.
So, that narrows the playing field down to that special person whom I know loves me in a deep way.
Maybe,this is silly and unrealistic but it is how I am .
I ran across this which is exactly why i think you might be interested in this
BDSM can be a place where people learn to understand bad power dynamics in past relationships; it can be a place where people learn to manage or destroy bad power dynamics in their current relationships; it can be a place where people find glory, self-knowledge and freedom by manipulating their own reactions and responses to power.
@ erin none of what you say isn;t part of bdsm...it is sacred...the level of trust you have to have is immense...as i said it is physical but it is an emotional trip...years of therapy won;t get you to the place that bdsm will...i think you are looking for a level of commitment that promises no pain...that doesn;t exist in any realm.
HOW does it get you to the place that years of therapy will not? I know it will be hard to describe in words.but I would appreciate it,if you are able.
I need to know that that person is my friend,the person I have committed to and vice versa.
first let me say that you have shown that you don;t have a good judgement in the trust department. .it is exactly what I say.. i think your idea of love and trust is a guarantee of no pain..safety..there is no such thing..you are hypersensitive to any slight..real or perceived..you then go crazy trying to defend..you set yourself up for pain and then feel upset about it..
your right medusa..erin runs the risk of trusting the first person who is nice to her which could be very dangerous..i don;t suggest this lightly..there are many assholes out there who call themselves a "dom"
For me..i am not a trusting person. I have found that submitting to another forces me to trust them and to let go..in that there is a weird freedom...i am not a submissive person by nature..i like to be in control..i don;t submit naturally...i fight...again, letting go of that need to be in charge for just a few hours for me was a lovely surprise..it allowed me to feel vulnerable and at the same time very powerful..i know this makes no sense..it is hard to put into words..its the exchange of power with another that you do trust that is a release of my defenses..its pretty powerful...
well...we have a pretty cool story in my opinion..one that could have blown up but somehow works..
we met 20 years ago in a bar in SF...fuck that makes me sound old...i saw him and he was fucking gorgeous...he was body painting the dancers from the club next door...i was there with a girlfriend...i got a drink and beelined it to him...i was pretty bold back in the day...we talked for maybe 20 minutes and i said you want to get outta here..i absolutely knew i was going to fuck him...we went to the club next door, connected to the bar. i danced...he watched ( this is still the case today) ...he had his own place in the hip section of town...we went to his place and had incredible sex...i remember i saw a tattoo with a girls name on it by his hip..i asked him who that was..he said that was his wife who died...he seemed too young for that but somehow it made me feel close to him..i kissed it and fell asleep...and the drama begins...
well...neither of us were from sf..i had just broken off a long tern relationship..he had just gotten out of an sane one..the next morning we left to get my car and he was going to work...i remember such weird shit..we went and got fresh fruit and coffee at a coffee shop..he put lemon juice on our fruit and i thought this was the best fruit i ever had...very odd that things the mind remembers...he made me feel all goofy..i wanted him to like me...he was cool...we liked the same music..he liked art..he had a rat (which i hated btw) and i wanted this boy...i played it cool though and did the see ya laters...yeah yeah call me..
it gets pretty ugly...but man it started amazing...he called the next day and we spent two weeks in bed...i was not exactly without experience but he fucked me with an intensity and without inhibition..we were drunk in each other...the chemistry was unlike anything i ever felt...he never went back to work ...lol...i was in school so i didn;t have to do much..within the first few days he said wanna get married i said sure...it seemed so natural...he moved in with me by the end of those two weeks...he took over my life...my apartment became filled with all of his artwork...my dressers were painted...jackets were painted by him...we were inseperable and i couldn;t get enough
so...here comes the dark part...we went out to clubs, bars etc...but mostly, we stayed home and had sex...i cared about nothing else...i immediately was pretty much isolated from friends n family immediately...I managed to finish that semester of school but dropped out after that for a few years...after maybe 2 months together, i told him i wanted to use H. I had used lots of cocaine but never that. he had..we snorted it once...i said i want to shoot it...
I clearly remember the first time...the smell of the incense burning, janes addiction playing (on cassette ha!) and the most amazing feeling came over me....i was immediately hooked....i had been looking for that feeling my entire life...
and we had sex for hours and hours ....and i had two lovers that i couldn't get enough of...
the next few years became a spiral of getting using and finding ways to get more..we went to LA a lot to cop...we had run ins with the law..wrote bad checks, stole and the whole nine..we would try and get clean...acupuncture, herbal teas, new city,,,we both wanted the nightmare to end but together we couldn't stop..he represented H to me and he was getting mean...i was finding out that he had lied to me about several things...i didn't understand the S thing back then...i just thought he was an asshole that i was hooked on..any time we spent apart, we always ended up back together...the pull was so strong..
You're story sounds like something from a documentary. I only skimmed a bit, because I'm finally getting tired, and wanted to leave a little something for you, when you awaken.
Tomorrow, I'll do better... and read you through. And now the real brutality begins in our story...
Something about me, in Karl's mind... would take him to places where he could go completely black. Past black, if there is such a thing.
The rage he could feel when thinking about losing such precious metal. I was like that for him. He saw me not only as his, but as some second self that he couldn't let the world in on.
He beat the shit out of that guy later in the night, but I knew that wouldn't be enough for him.
"You think I'm bad?" He screamed at the gang of skin heads, and their pets... "She's just like me!" He pointed his finger in my direction, swaying the slightest bit, from his drunken state.
"You just can't see it cuz she keeps it hidden!"
Everyone just tried to divert his attention on something else. We were headed for breakfast.
"She's like the female me," he said in a different tone now. He almost sounded sentimental... but we had history now. I didn't fall for his bullshit.
When everyone looked at his behavior that night, they saw a drunk guy who just needed to sleep it off... I asked one of his close friends to stay the night at our place, I wasn't sure what violence was in store for me, while he was drunk.
But his friend just laughed it off when I told him that I knew I was in for a serious beating.
"Karl loves you... why would you talk about him like that?"
He dropped us off, and waited while we walked to the front porch. I think part of him wanted to watch, just in case.
Karl pulled me to him, and gave a show of the ever smitten boyfriend; nuzzling me and smiling with so much pleasure... but as soon as Derick started to back out of the driveway, he grit his teeth and said:
Now it was just dark open spaces, a rabid animal, and me.
He drug me in the house by my hair, but not without a fight. I was resisting him with everything in me. So to make it easier, he bashed my head against the door a couple of times, before he opened it.
"Why are you fighting me? You know that you deserve this!" He sounded very humorous at this point, like we were sharing a good joke.
I asked him to give me my charges.
"I saw the way you looked at him. You wanted him!"
I told him was wrong. That he knew he was wrong too! I had barely even looked at that guy. I got used to not looking at people in general, for very long.
It didn't matter. He was going to make me understand that there was no leaving him now.
"You'll never leave me, alive." He always said.
At first I thought I'd just go ahead and face the beating. Let him get it out of his system... but he whaled on me over and over... and my own rage could no longer be contained. I managed to get myself loose from him, and started pounding my fist into the back of his head.
Again, I was trying for unconsciousness, but it didn't work... I'd stopped a few seconds too soon.
He started laughing.
"You gave up too soon baby! I was so close too!"
I waited for his next attack, but he just went to the couch, and passed right out.
I went to bed in our room, and wondered how had I let it get this far? It was never supposed to be this on going thing between us. I knew I would have to make him leave.
The next morning he was a sweet as the honey, and spoke to me with the tongue of an angel... but I wasn't going to hear it. I fucked him... sure I did. I was always up for a fuck filled with rage.
But when the day moved slowly into evening, I told him to call a ride, pack up his shit, and go.
This was just routine. He knew the drill very well. He went back to the grans, as he always did. A family never gives up on their blood. No matter how much they feared him... the door was always open.
I didn't miss him... but that's because I knew, this was not the end for us. The end was up to me alone... he would never give me up. If this were going to be over... I was the one in charge of that.
morning...i really like how you write eden..i am mesmerized..you should put all this together in one piece and put it on your blog...i feel like i've missed some just because of reading it in pieces...
"You'll never leave me, alive." i know i'm fucked up but that is romantic to me
so...where i left off with our story...btw..there are details i can;t give out since a. it is wise b. bp comes on here too ...
i was thinking..bp was the only boy that my parents--mom and step-dad ever liked...he wasn't from the background they preferred but he charmed the shit out of them..he had my step father eating out of his hand..they talked art, books, travel..he was really good at a young age..he convinced my step father to give us an expensive portrait to have it fixed...he of course would over charge him to have it done..we later got pulled over with H in he car and had to explain why we had this giant piece of art in the back of the car..he had this rich guy that he would sell art to..he would get his hands on it cheap..convince the guy its value would skyrocket and he would pay the $ that bp suggested...he was a kid...that was where we got a lot of money ...he was pretty fucking resourceful...
at this point..i actually told my mom and step father i was doing dope..they freaked..stopped sending me any money and took my car...i went to rehab for a few brief stints..a few days really..i would leave after i wasn;t sick any more and meet bp to get high..one time i left a place in the midwest and took a bus to nyc to meet bp...it was the longest bus ride ever..i had people in the rehab sign my bukowski book rather than the obligatory big book..actually got names of dealers in nyc from my new rehab friends..i wrote a countdown of hours in my book..as each hour passed, i would cross it off...it was over 20 hours..he met me at port authority and he had dope ready for me...we spent our days in nyc getting high...finding places to crash ...sleeping n parks during the day...it was still exciting to me...i refer to this as my lifestyles of the hip and homeless era
"He sounds like an emotionally unstable beeper with a fear of abandonment"
Karl was not a beeper. His personality never shifted, he was always very sure of himself, thought he was the smartest motherfucker alive... and he didn't need any reassurance from anyone.
He could debate a subject with a whole group of people, and no matter how many people disagreed with his way of thinking, he always stayed calm, or mildly amused.
He didn't care if we were apart, just as long as I knew I could never be another's. And so far as I could see.... no one ever set him off like that. Just me, because I was his mate. He beat the shit out of that guy to show me what was coming, and to make an example of him with the rest of the group.
He wanted me to have to think about it all night.
@Erin
I want you to know that a lot of the bullshit you read on this blog, makes it seem like all sociopaths are this "smooth operator" type. Someone who is masked so well, and so gifted at charming the world around them, they never get caught. And anything that doesn't fit that dream mold for them, is not a true sociopath.
Karl was diagnosed. I didn't know what he was until I had a visit with his grandmother, 2 years after we broke up. She told me he was in prison, and wanted to share with me what his evaluations concluded. I guess she wanted me to know, that there was a name for what he was.
I'm pretty sure his family had been told before... but didn't want to believe it, or were ignorant about what it meant. His mother kept many secrets.
He was not high functioning, because he was an addict, and because he just didn't give a shit about society, or the law.
And anyone who tells you the low functioning ones aren't smart, are also full of shit. Karl had a genius level IQ... which was also, not self-proclaimed.
This blog is full of people who fancy themselves a high functioning, genius sociopath. That doesn't make it true. A lot of them are young still, and come from a very superficial generation, constructed by the internet, and mass media.
What I have to say in this rant about my old love, is based on facts... not some sensationalized framework, inspired by movies and comic books. :D
I'm still waking up... so I'm going to get my coffee started before I begin again....
Now that Karl was out of school, it became an even greater hardship for his the grans to keep him. So his grandfather bought him a car, so he could come and go as he pleased.
I'm sure the hope was that he'd be going more than anything.
His grandfather also help get him an interview, which Karl actually showed up for, and even got hired... but he never showed up for the first day.
I couldn't see him keep a job. He could never follow rules, or handle authority. Instead of getting a job, or doing anything remotely productive, now that he had a car... he just fucked around with the skins, skunks, and a few homeless punks all day, or came to stay with me.
Only 2 people had jobs out of the whole group; me, and the juggernaut skinhead. He was a bouncer. I worked at a fast food joint, where I was only allowed to work the grill. The store manager said she didn't put me on the registers, because she was afraid I'd attack some of the customers. I think secretly she meant: I don't trust you around the cash!
But she was right to see m potential for going off. With so madness in my personal life, and the fact that I too, had a small problem following rules; it was getting harder for me to contain my abusive nature. One girl even quit because she was afraid I would kick her ass, when I found out she was talking shit about me.
I had a car now too. The death of my mother's father, left me with a check from New York Life Insurance, because for what ever reason... my grandfather had taken out insurance on all his grandchildren.
I had to forge my father's signature on it because I was still a minor, and it was only $650... but it bought me a '79 Thunderbird, that ran well, and took up more than half a country road. It had a fucking 8 track player in it!
Karl and I decorated it with spray paint, and I put a Fear sticker on the bumper that said: I don't care about you Fuck you
Karl never said he was sorry about that night. I didn't expect him to either. He expected me to suck it up, and move on. I had known how he was going into the relationship... no point in crying over it. I remember him once telling the drummer of his band:
Things got good again for a while: On my 18th birthday, Karl took me to a porn shop, and bought me a strap on.
I stood in the mirror admiring my girlish figure against the contrast of this phallus. I felt incredibly sexy, and powerful.
At first, Karl would just fuck me while I wore it. I was still the submissive no matter the cock I wore, and strangely I still felt very feminine. Which is how I've always viewed myself no matter how society sees me.
But after a while, he let me try to fuck him with it a time or two. It didn't work out. He wasn't as turned on as he thought he'd be. I liked it a lot, but it was fine with me if I didn't get to dominate him that way.
We also started playing rape... which would get out of control almost every time, because rape represented a different kind of power for me, and the conflict in me would begin. I would fight him for real... and so it became real rape in a way... but the sex was still good, and I got over it as soon as he was inside me.
Sometimes he would talk about us getting married, but we both hated the idea that in order to be married, that would mean us having a binding that was established by the government, not just by religion... so we would kid about performing a fake wedding, so we could get a bunch of free shit!
He even spoke about me having a child with him... but I hated children, and I figured we'd both be abusive. I was the one always slipping poisonous spiders in his little sister's Polly Pockets. He had no love for her what so ever... or any of his family for that matter, and she was only 5 at the time.
He spoke very highly of me to his friends. Bragged about me even. No women could hold a candle to me, but I always figured it was more that no one could take his shit the way I could.
The other thing was that while he enjoyed picking on the weaker women who hung out with the skins... no way was he going to keep a mate who was as weak as them. Sometimes the guys would bring around some flaky bitch just to set me off on her.
I wouldn't go for it at first, but they knew that any display of weakness mixed with stupidity, and zero grasp of reality; would always get my juices going if exposed long enough.
One night, at Derick's graduation party, a friend brought his ex girlfriend over, and kept rejecting her advances towards him on purpose, and in front of everyone. The guys started fucking with her, and trying to get me to go off on her... while she begged him to take her back.
"Se what a stupid bitch she is Baby," Karl would hiss at me.
"Don't you want to fuck her up?"
I told her she should go home before she got herself hurt, and suddenly this mouse of a girl who was practically on her knees... was cussing me out, and telling me to mind my own business!
Total miscalculation on her part. I always looked so young for my age, and was somewhat under-developed, and skinny.
I told her to watch her filthy mouth, and warned her a second time to go home.
The ex boyfriend told her maybe it was a good idea for her to listen to me, and leave before it got ugly... she lunged at him, biting a hole in his face... and that's when the beast in me stepped forward.
Ever watch a cat just fuck with its prey? They are one of the most viscous of predators because they enjoy a slow, torturous play with their victims, and with sometimes no intention of eating them once they're dead.
She was in for a long night.
I pulled her off of him and dragged her into the back yard by one leg... allowing her head to hit whatever it hit, on the way out there.
The guys became frenzied. They followed us like pack of wild dogs, but with no intention of coming to her rescue. Their job at this point was to keep me going, so my adrenaline didn't stand a chance at coming down.
I pulled her up by the front of her shirt, and demanded that she apologize to her ex! Then I saw her pupils. She was on something... probably coke.
"Fucking coke head!" I hissed. "You psycho junkies are all the same!"
She started laughing. I took that as an indication that she was asking for the abuse, and proceeded to hit, kick, and throw her around, for the better part of 3 hours.
I'd giver little breaks, and even continued to hold a conversation with her and the rest of the group, before starting in on her again. She would cry, but then she'd laugh... and once I got bored with it, it was time for her to go.
With her kicking and screaming I carried her to her car, and dropped her body on the pavement in front of it... then I kicked her till she was breathless, and begging for me to stop.
I picked her up, placed her in the car, and asked for her keys. She handed them to me, I put them in the ignition, and started the car up.
"Go home little girl." I said to the woman who was four years older than me. "Sleep it off." Then I walked back inside, and settled down with a beer, and a smoke.
The guys came back in laughing and carrying on... they just couldn't believe what had happened.
Not what I did... but what their friend did. Apparently he decided to go home with her, and when she finally was able to regain some composure to leave; he left with her.
It was more severe than the one before it, and I ended up with a virus that settled into my lugs, causing me to choke all day and night, till I would vomit. I went completely def in my right ear, and Karl eventually drove me to emergency, when I reached a temperature of 105, and putting me in an ice bath wouldn't bring it down long enough.
I was hallucinating, and couldn't make sense of anything going on around me. In fact... Karl had to force me into the car, because I didn't even give a shit that I was so sick, and had no concept of how dangerous my high temp was.
It took me 3 weeks to get well enough to go back to work, and Karl had me stay at the grans, so he wouldn't have to take care of me himself.
I was sick for a total of 2 months though, and def in my ear for 3. The inside of my inner ear has permanent damage.
Karl got sick too. Not as sick as I had, but sick enough to need medical attention... but I refused to take him to the hospital. Part of it was because I was far to weak to drive, but the other part was some sadistic side of me, hoping to see just how close to death he would get... so his mother finally took him.
Due to loss of wages, I could no longer make my half of the rent... so we were given a month to find another place to live.
I didn't make very much money, and Karl wouldn't get a job still... so we had to settle for a one bedroom in one of the war zones.
The rent was only $200, because the neighborhood was so bad that even the cops didn't want to go into it, unless they absolutely had to.
I liked it. It was all mine, and was town home style, so the bedroom and bath were upstairs; living room and kitchen, down. We sat on the patio the first night, Karl and I. Even though the land lady warned us that it wasn't smart to even look out your window while cars went by, or you could get shot at. It just didn't occur to me to be afraid of that.
We had a phone finally. Karl's mom decided to pay for one, and told me it was because she was beginning to fear that he might try to kill me, and I'd have no way to call for help.
"Call me first," She said. "Always call me, instead of the cops, unless it's really bad."
We watched from the patio, as the last pizza delivery guy, who was willing to go into that area, got robbed. I asked Karl if he thought we should call the cops, but we both agreed that it wasn't really his money anyways... only the idiot establishment's, that sent him there in the first place.
@Eden I cannot imagine having no one.I had a crazy making mother and almost lost my mind,but I had a home and good extended family. It is amazing what you have survived and still retain your humanity.
Once Karl and I were living in the city again... the whole gang seemed to want to live there with us.
I don't know what the attraction was, but our place was alive 24/7. 20 some odd people, were in and out all the time. I was only getting 3 hours of sleep if I were lucky.
A couple had moved in next door who looked like your average every day... but after hanging out with the gang a couple of nights, Karl asked if I would give him a mohawk. (I was the group barber!)
He changed the way he dressed, and h0w he acted, almost over night. It was fucking crazy how easily influenced some of these guys were. They wanted to feed on the power, and somehow make it their own power.
We were only there for a month before we got our first eviction notice. Derek got into a fight with one of the skins, and drove his head through the downstairs window.
I was infuriated! It took a lot to get me to that point, but when I did, there was no controlling it. My body started to tremble... Derick was always fucking our shit up, and was a spoiled rick kid. I kicked everyone the fuck out!
Can you see it? 5'5"... and 114 pounds soaking wet, standing in a room full of giants, ordering them to get the fuck out of her shit hole! I could tell some of them wanted to crush me for daring to give them orders... but they left, and Karl left with them.
The next day we had a note on our door that said we had 7 days to fix the window, or we were out. I made Derick ask his daddy for the money. It helped that juggernaut skinhead, threatened to beat his ass if he didn't. The window was fixed in two days... but Derick never came back.
"It's a matter of principles," juggernaut had told him. "You can damage what ever place you like, as long as it's not my place." and juggernaut now considered my place his home. He was even helping with the rent.
Things declined no matter what though. Karl loved chaos, and if the night wasn't crazy enough, he'd start break bottles in great piles on the kitchen floor... just for fun. They put blankets over every window, and even in front of the doors, so the place became like a cave. Then they decided to decorate the walls, much like Karl and I did my car.
The guys decided too, that our place would be ideal to store their weapons, and juggernaut was now running drugs out of our place, a trade that Karl gladly took up. It was the very definition of .
Surprisingly the people on our block were becoming more afraid of us, than the Mexican gags that usually terrorized those street... and we weren't even shooting at people!
It was very exciting, but sometimes I just wanted to be away from the noise. Karl was getting more aggressive again. Nothing like violence, drugs, and the the fear in eyes of the people in the world outside our front door... to make him feel like he was king kong!
One time, we got into a fight over one of his homeless punk friends, always getting too fucked up, and puking on my floors, then just leaving it there. He was just pure trash to me. I had pulled the boy up from his bed on the living room floor... and just like a dog, put his face in the old puddle of his own vomit, and told him if he didn't start cleaning it up, I'd make him eat it.
Karl saw that as me somehow undermining his authority... and tried to choke the life out of me that night.
It was the second time he'd choked me like that.
Another fight lead to him holding a gun to my head, then kicking me down the stairs.
How much violence are you willing to withstand in order to keep your high? How close to the edge of danger, even death; will you stand so you can feel your whole self wake up to the vibrations all around you? To feel every wire light up, and almost connect you to life outside your body? I was just another junkie... sober as can be.
I was done. I knew that if I stayed there with him, one of us was going to die, and it wasn't going to be me.
I stood up, and walked out into the midnight air. Spring was on the way, and I could feel the change of the season all around me. I walked the black streets, knowing the danger was never outside. It followed me, yes... but it was not on these streets, or even in that shit hole that I called home.
A flame began to get bigger and bigger inside my head, till I felt like I would . When I got back home, I grabbed Karl by the hand, and lead him up to the room.
"Remember what you always told me you'd do if I ever ended up dead before you?" I asked him
"Yes. I told you I'd fuck you for the last time." and he suddenly became very aroused.
I drew him close to me so I could smell that sweet smell of alcohol on his breath, and said: "I'm dead baby, and I need you to fuck me one last time."
He kissed be just the way he did when we first met, back we were still so hungry and new to the experience of one another. We fucked like the world was on fire, and when we were done... I quietly got up, and started packing my things.
"You're not going to leave me baby, you know I can't let you leave me and live." I just kept doing what I had to do. So he grabbed me from behind, and pulled me to out onto the balcony.
"Time to die then!" he said in his joking way, but he was actually going to do it. He was going to throw me off it.
I screamed for someone to come up and pull him off me, but no one bothered... so with everything I had left in me, I shoved my body back hard, and we both fell over... the fact that he was always drunk now, was my life saver. I scrabbled to my feet, and before he could even blink, I kicked him in the face as hard as I could, with my steel-toed boots.
I broke his fucking nose!
The boys were up in a flash as soon as they heard him scream. I grabbed my shit... shoved past all the boys on their way up, and walked my ass out of there. He was yelling at me from the balcony as I walked out into the street.
"You broke my nose baby!" and he was laughing. "My girl is a fucking bad ass!" he yelled. I din't respond. I didn't even look back at him. I just smiled quietly to myself and thought: Thanks for the motherfucking boots asshole!
I'm sure it's a matter of being completely free to explore. The mind is asleep to all the things that would cause a person shame, or to concern themselves with sexual boundaries.
They are whole body driven by carnal desires. But they are also fully aware of what you need from them, because they've studied you like a science project.
Nice. I have to say, being with someone adaptable is really less stressful for all.
ReplyDeletei heard this quote in a video game commercial... lol.
ReplyDeletewhat's with the double post, ME?
"I'm one of these people that don't care about being right, I just care about success." - Steve jobs.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KhjVidOFqBo&NR
A certain degree of intelligence is required for any animal to adapt, the more intelligent the animal is the easier it is for it to adapt, therefore intelligence is strength.
ReplyDeleteDarwin was a dick.
And of course it is not only intelligence that enters the equation, evolution (nature) always plays its roll. Predisposition.
ReplyDeleteami changed her paypal email address
ReplyDeletemorning eden....ready when you are... :)
Hey Bette.
ReplyDeleteFirst I need to ask what details your most interested in? Or I will tell this story my way, and that may take a few days.
I'm not even going by the book. This is a lot more honest, and raw.
(Which makes me think I've figured out which me, I need to reconcile.)
I will skip to the grit, if that's what you want, but will say that it might leave you with a lot of question, and I get weary of too many questions.
So how what would be ideal for you?
As for the quote: I really like it. Nature adapts. Evolution forces many species to adapt. But evolution is slow.
ReplyDeleteSo I suppose intelligence can help that along, but nature makes no mistakes.
well of course i am anxious for the "juicy as fuck" parts but i can be patient for those...
ReplyDeletetell it as you are...i'm enjoying looking for the next installment...
"A certain degree of intelligence is required for any animal to adapt, the more intelligent the animal is the easier it is for it to adapt, therefore intelligence is strength."
ReplyDeleteSo true.
Before I start going into my relationship with Karl, let me first say that I was a very odd child growing up.
ReplyDeleteEven compared to the my other siblings.
I wouldn't talk to anyone, even if I got a beating for not doing so. I was very paranoid, and skeptical of everything, but I was also raised in a very cold bubble.
I had no understanding of affection, or intimacy. The 3 people who raised me, were very callous, abusive, and violent.
It was a bubble, because I was moved around so much, I had nothing to compare my home life to for very long, and my father only taught us things that would best serve him.
So I didn't respond to danger, or socially unexceptionable behavior, the way other kids did. I only see this as an adult, with so much more to compare my thoughts and actions to.
I think that's what drew Karl to me the most. I wasn't shocked by him, and I didn't question whether he were odd, or wrong.
I was hungry for him. That what I know over anything else. I was just very hungry, sexually.
Before Karl, I'd only had sex once, and I had been on acid at the time, so it was bizarre. I even remember some kids from the party I was at, coming in the room to talk to my boyfriend, while he was trying to fuck me.
So I consider Karl, my first experience with reality and sex.
What hooked me to Karl above all things was the sex. With him, nothing was taboo.
ReplyDeleteThat was perfect for me because, I didn't know what taboo was, not did it occur to me to question right or wrong sex. It's true I grew up in a strict religious setting. My father was a minister, and my mother's father was one. But no matter what the Bible taught, or my family taught, I thought my own way.
It just didn't penetrate my skin. I always followed my nature, rather than the teachings of home and school.
It was so much louder, and urgent; my nature.
I wanted to inhale Karl. Absorb him into my own tissue, and vital organs. He seemed to feel the same way. But with so much intensity, comes a crash period.
@Eden
ReplyDeleteMr Nin called, he wants his bastardised diaries back...
In Karl it was not just taboo for its own sake, it was taboo for the sake of transcending the human.
ReplyDeleteWhen I absorbed the intensity of his passion and nourished myself on it I felt reborn.
He was like a volcano on fire.
A dark, half-born animal who cast no shadow.
But fire consumes all it touches.
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ReplyDeleteWhen I was in my teens, I was into punk more than anything, but though I had a very edgy look, I was still reserved when it came to dress.
ReplyDeleteKarl had a girlfriend already, and she dressed very provocative. I remember a time when she came to visit him at the hospital, and she was made to stay outside, in the hall, because her manner of dress was too revealing.
I dressed in layers, so I remember Karl tearing the crotch out of all my tights, so he'd have easier access to me, without having to tear my clothes off
I didn't think of us as a couple, or even thought of myself as the other woman. I wasn't very traditional, you might say. I wasn't one to fantasize about getting married and having babies.
Sex was all that drove me.
So it didn't matter to me if he kept his other girl, as long as I was getting sex.
That weekend was the beginning of a very interesting 2 years. His friend had decided she didn't want to take me in. She was 27, and 2 months pregnant with the child of, she didn't know who.
Karl was one of her favorite trysts, and she was very angry at him for expecting that she would want to help me.
So he decided we would just show up at her door anyway, and he would just leave me there. Not give her a choice.
To get there, I would have to climb out of his window early Monday morning, and take the school bus, to Karl's school.
He wasn't allowed to take the bus anymore, so I would have to go it alone.
"Just stand there and act like you know you're supposed to be on that bus." He told me, when I got paranoid that I would be found out, and therefor caught.
Then I would arrive at his school and wait for him to find a friend who was willing to ditch, and drive us to his friend's place.
Nothing phased Karl. He was always very confident in his missions. Keeping a network of girls, who are attracted to you, is very useful
So it was another girl who agreed to take us.
His friend was pissed! That's when I saw him turn on the charm. He never did that with me. He wrote me violent poems sometimes, but he was never soft with me. She of course agreed to "maybe", keep me for a couple of weeks
Karl winked at me, and was out the door. I knew it was now up to me, to charm her into keeping me.
man...im into it...i do have questions but i will refrain...until later..
ReplyDeletei fucking live for that intensity and i am lucky enough to have it with badpenny...
Eden Ralene said...
ReplyDeleteIn Karl it was not just taboo for its own sake, it was taboo for the sake of transcending the human.
"When I absorbed the intensity of his passion and nourished myself on it I felt reborn.
He was like a volcano on fire.
A dark, half-born animal who cast no shadow.
But fire consumes all it touches."
You sound very familiar to me. I welcome your help in translating my story.
She was so fucking mean to me! lol
ReplyDeleteShe pointed to my room and told me to leave her, so she could go back to sleep.
"I'm on food stamps, and pregnant, so don't expect me to feed you."
She had a strong New York accent.
"Don't expect me to give a shit about you, just cause I'm doing Karl a favor. If I saw you on the streets, I'd just think you were another fucking trashy wannabe punk, and walk away!"
I nodded, and went to my room. Smoked cigarette; one after the other. It was cold, because it was still January, and I only had the clothes on my back. She offered no blanket... so there I was, starving in the cold, with nothing to do but smoke, and think of how to win this cunt over, so I could survive!
@ eden
ReplyDeleteYou sound very familiar to me. I welcome your help in translating my story.
who are you saying that to?
we come from the same generation and badpenny was very much into the punk scene..me more the underground club scene ...
you have my attention...
how does this make him a sociopath? he seems like an average teenager/man.
ReplyDelete@erin
ReplyDeleteHow'd i know you couldn't stay away?...you love the abuse..
@Anon
ReplyDeleteI haven't even begun to describe Karl yet. This is not a story to prove what Karl was or I was, it is a story about a different kind of understanding, in the mating realm, between two strange animals.
I take my time in building up to the grit. What is a story without anticipation? I'm just setting up the scene.
@Bette
The Eden Ralene in black, wasn't me. I was addressing him/her.
I only speak using my own account.
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ReplyDeleteAfter Karl left me, I didn't hear from him for two weeks. I managed to win Theresa over, but I wasn't one for using a mature style in charm. I was more childlike.
ReplyDeleteIt made the most sense for my survival, to me. If you don't want people to see you as a threat, you don't come at them with a street mentality. You come as a helpless child, in need of protection.
My family history has always been useful in winning people over.
The story of the abused and extremely deprived, cover a variety of behaviors, and ill manners.
She let her guard down, and decided to keep me, as long as I got a job to help with the rent.
@ erin
ReplyDeletewhat the hell are you talking about? is this your attempt at sarcasm or sucking up?
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ReplyDeleteI kept my relationship with Karl, a secret. If Theresa knew, there's no way she would let me stay there.
ReplyDeleteShe hated most women. She told me it was because she thought they were stupid, and prissy, and were big fat liars, but I could see through her.
She fancied herself as some queen of the punk scene in our city, and all women were competition to her.
She warmed to me, because I looked more boyish, and wasn't didn't show my feminine side very much.
Still, I wasn't with Karl. That was the most important thing to her. And not being with Karl meant I got to sit and listen to her poor her heart out, about all the juicy stuff she knew of "her" Karl, and how she felt about him.
I learned for instance that when he was 12, he had a guy friend from school give him head. I was happy she told me that. I don't think Karl would have.
It turned me on, and gave me the secret satisfaction of knowing that I wasn't the only one willing to explore other methods of sating my hunger. After not hearing from him for two weeks, and listening to her stories of him, my appetite was driving me crazy.
At the same time, I'm sure Karl wasn't even thinking about me much. In his mind, I already belonged to him, and that was enough for the time being.
If you'd like to ask a few questions Bette, I'm game.
ReplyDeleteI'm having to do this from work, and so I have to thump it out, and go back to business. Which is good. It doesn't give me time to edit before I punch enter.
working too..
ReplyDeletesome of my questions may be premature...i'll wait and see what;s next...i'm very curious how this impacted you later in life ..whether having such an intense sexual/emotional experience so early on ruined or damaged subsequent relationships...having the bar set to that level of intensity makes later relationships disappointing in my experience.. were you resentful at others for not getting you to that same place?
Im already curious about where he is now but i'm jumping ahead...i'm guessing balding in suburbia or prison..
I will tell you where he is, when the story is complete. :)
ReplyDeleteTo answer your question on the subject of sexuality. I was already very sexual by nature, from extremely young. Even before my father started trying to mess with me.
I was trying to get into the pants of boys, from the age of 4.
So if Karl hadn't been so sexual as he was, it would have been disappointing. I have to say that I'm excited you asked this question. It never really occurred to me till you did, that it's been the biggest problem in my experience of sex ever since.
He set the bar high as you can get it, in my opinion... and it probably ruined me for anyone else, as far as getting my needs met.
But I could never regret the experience. It was the wildest ride of my life.
So let's talk about what kind of beast Karl was....
I knew Karl was violent. I didn't go into this not knowing... I just didn't care.
ReplyDeleteHe stirred things up in the hospital like no one there. The staff and all the doctors hated him. When he defied them, he did it in as vulgar a way as possible. His job there was to piss everyone off! They were always having to strap him to the bed in the "solitary" room. Nothing they did worked... he'd just laugh at them for even trying.
One time, while they had him strapped down... I went to the window to peak in on him.
It was before I had given in to him. When we were still enemies... and he caught me.
He looked so vulnerable, but I knew he wasn't, because I saw that split second when his mask changed. Like he wanted me to see a beast who could be tamed. I was very aroused to see him bound by leather straps, to a hospital bed.
Later on in our relationship, I would become aroused every time I saw him get arrested too... but let's not get ahead of ourselves. ;)
After two weeks, I got a call from Karl. Well, he had to call Theresa and talk to her first. He teased me about having to go without his touch for so long, and told me he'd be down to see me when he could.
ReplyDeleteBefore he hung up, he asked me if I'd be his girl. I told him yes without hesitation, but deep within me, I knew what that might mean. How much of him would I be willing to take, in order to get my own needs met?
My mother used to say that she saw me as a wild animal sometimes, or demon possessed. Always just running in the direction of what I craved... trampling everything in my path to get it.
I didn't understand what she meant by that at the time, but I do now. And she was right.
I wanted what I wanted. Nothing was going to stop me from having it. No amount of danger would ever keep me from the source of what I craved... but no amount of the sorrow of others would either.
It didn't matter who I hurt in the path of my . I just wanted to get there.
*the path of my flight
ReplyDeleteeden you are so god damn boring... your poetry makes me cringe and i sincerely hope your house burnt down
ReplyDeleteseriously i'm reading your shit right now... and you have the vocabulary of a fucking 8 year old. anyone??
ReplyDeleteIt was fun when he would come to visit me because we had to play little games, to keep Theresa from suspecting.
ReplyDeleteIn the hospital, Karl and I had made up a code to write in. The staff would go through everyone's journals and belongings if they suspected anyone was forming attachments, that were inappropriate. So he made up the first half of the alphabet, and I did the second half.
I was given a day to memorize it, and them instructed to shred it. We then passed notes to each other in code only. It was fucking brilliant!
So staying true to the form we took with each other in the hospital, we sort of started speaking in code, when she was in the room. It was also exciting to have to hide in dark rooms, to kiss and touch before she could catch us.
Anticipation mixed with the thrill of not getting caught, was my foreplay. I knew I'd be on the streets in a heartbeat if she saw us, but I already knew life on the streets. What would it matter?
He was so fucking rude to her. I often wondered why she put up with it. In Theresa's mind, this was just punk life. The men were expected to be vile, and abusive.
I guess that's what attracted him to that lifestyle. It suited his nature, and everyone around would just think he was just going through a rebellious phase!
Getting off work now, Bette. Will resume later.
ReplyDelete@sexpuppy
ReplyDeleteSo don't read it then. Easy solution to your problem.
it's not a problem for me... just thought you should know how bad it is.
ReplyDelete@sexpuppy
ReplyDeleteI'll make sure to post them more often, in that case.
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ReplyDeletecould you? my heart is very open to laughing at bad poetry
ReplyDeleteSo this is what you do all day while you're supposed to be working, Eden?
ReplyDelete@Anon
ReplyDeleteI'm doing this per Bette's request, and I'm self employed.
I'll say that I didn't originally intend to tell the story like this, but I'm crazy manic right now, so change of plans.
Continuing on...
@ sex puppy
ReplyDeletefuck off cunt
@ erin
look into bdsm....some submissive play might do you some good...much more effective than the mental masturbation you engage in on here...it is fucking cathartic
@ Eden...listening intently
There you are Bette...
ReplyDeleteThe violence begins now, so hold on to your seat!
can i have my wife back....
ReplyDeleteI started working about three weeks after I was left at Theresa's. I'll skip over the blow up I had with my father, when I told him to hand over all the shit I needed so I could get the job in the first place.
ReplyDeleteLet's just say he left me on the side of a highway, in the middle of a canyon 36 miles from anywhere.
I had to take a city bus everywhere.
I look back now, knowing how young I must have looked even for my age, and can't believe I went everywhere alone, and never got fucked with.
Theresa worried about me like a lunatic. She said I could pass for 12, and would probably end up dead in a gutter somewhere.
I just wasn't afraid. My father used to let me walk several blocks to school alone, from the age 6; even in the bigger cities.
Maybe it was that... or maybe I was just some punk kid who didn't think she could be taken down so easy.
I called Karl from a payphone to let him know I had a job, and could take the bus to see him if he wanted.
He was excited, and told me he wanted to treat me, in honor of my new freedom.
"I want to surprise you with something," he said.
"There's a place I want to take you, so I can give you that fuck you've been waiting for!"
I was ready! It didn't matter where we were going, or what the surprise was... I was ready to fuck!
He took me to a drainage tunnel, at the foothills of the Sandia Mountains. It was one of his favorite places to go as a child.
We went just far enough inside, where the light touched the edge of darkness. Further than that would be pitch black, and it was a long ways down to get to the other end.
I told him I wanted to give him head, but I'd never done it before, so he told me he'd instruct me.
Until that day, I'd never had an orgasm while having sex. This was the cause of a great deal of frustration for Karl, and he was eager to master the trick.
So after my first try at head, and not being able to pull it off without cutting him with my teeth... he decided to see if he could make me cum by rubbing my clit while we fucked.
Worked like a charm! And while still breathless and slightly dizzy, he pulled me up and said, "and now for the surprise!"
Wait... what?
I'd thought we were past that already.
@justabadpenny
ReplyDeletelmao I have no weapons! She can come and go as she pleases... ;p
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ReplyDeletecan i have my wife back...
ReplyDeleteAww, how sweet.
Half way through the tunnel, in the pitch black, Karl let go of my hand.
ReplyDeleteI became disoriented, and didn't feel steady on my feet. I listened for Karl's footsteps, and then he called from not so far ahead of me... "Just listen for my movement, if you start to get confused."
I had to stop a couple of times to listen, because it was such a mental fuck on my senses. I don't know why I didn't just call out to him in the dark... and then it suddenly occurred to me, that other people might be hiding out in the darkness.
Karl had told me when we first got there, that homeless people slept there all the time. I started to get paranoid. What was he playing at? But I was also very excited. Danger was like my foreplay as well.
As I was imagining myself accidentally stumbling over a body in the dark... I noticed I couldn't hear Karl's footsteps anymore.
I stopped so I could listen, and get my bearings, but nothing.
ReplyDelete"Karl, I can't hear you moving anymore," and listed further... he didn't answer.
"Karl, stop fucking with me!", then I heard a *click* behind me.
My imagination started up again, and though I knew that Karl was playing a game with me, my mind still doubted that's all there was.
"hey!"
Came a whisper right at my ear, as he grabbed at my shoulder, causing me to stumble a little. A sharp rush of adrenaline went through me, and I stiffened under his embrace.
Now I felt like I might be in danger, and this at the touch of my lover.
I felt something sharp run up my right leg and find my crotch. It was his knife, and he made small circles with it as if he were trying to stimulate me.
"Does this make you wet?"
I wasn't really sure if it did, but I knew this game already: Don't show weakness. I didn't answer him.
"Answer me bitch!"
I waited. I wasn't about to take orders from him, yet I wasn't opposed to submitting either.
Always this conflict inside me...
So he gave me an intensive. He put the knife to my throat and made it clear that he would cut me if I didn't play along.
I don't think he would have try to kill me. Not then anyway. If you asked me two years later, did I think he would kill me... I'd say most definitively. But this was just beginning, and I knew I must resolve my conflict if I were going to keep him.
"I want you." I whispered back to him.
"What do you think you'd regret if I were to kill you right now?" he tested.
I was deeply confused now. What was the right move on the board? Was I supposed to show fear or strength?
I chose strength.
"I would have no regrets." I said..
and then he pulled me closer to him, tighter... like he wanted to squeeze the living shit out of me.
"If I were to kill you right now, I would still fuck you. I'd fuck your dead body!"
There was always some small part of me that thought he was full of shit... but we were still getting to know each other, so I didn't want to be overly confident. Karl was harder for me to read than other people.
He ended our date by dragging me down the tunnel in what seemed like a rage.
Out of the darkness, and into the light... he threw me into the dirt, and shut my eyes hard after feeling the sting of the bright sun.
Then he was on top of me, pulling all my clothes from me.
We were no longer under cover of the tunnel. It was out in the open, and he didn't care. But then, neither did I.
He started fucking me hard, like he was trying to communicate some kind of punishment to me, at the end of his cock. I wrapped my whole self around his, and took him in over and over, with just as much intensity.
I submitted to him completely that day. I just believed. Nothing else mattered exceot that one belief, that he was strong enough to be master of me...
wow eden
ReplyDelete@Zoe
ReplyDeleteWhat?
you write well. i am mesmerized.
ReplyDeletei don't think i care much for Karl.
i do i do...lol
ReplyDeleteThis is totally turning me on.
ReplyDeleteIf you wrote romance novels, I'd read them.
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ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteBette blu said...
ReplyDeletei do i do...lol
:)
@Medusa
ReplyDeleteI have actually considered it. My memoir is my baby, and when it's published, I will try my hand at fiction. But I already know I'm not very good at fiction so far, unless its a short... so dark erotica might be right up my alley.
This is me, with no editing, and punching it out quickly. I like this. I hate the boundaries, when I write, and playing or standards set by publishing companies.
Obsession. I know it well.
ReplyDeleteHe was the key to unlocking every primitive place inside my mind. When I was with him, I didn't have to work some angle. I could be wicked and still be good.
He was kicked out of his grandparents house not long after that. It was a habit with them.
He made me laugh because I saw his antics with the eyes of my dark humor, and with childish wonder.
When he got sick, he'd spit in his grandmother's prune juice! I still smile when think about that.
It was not so strange that I was entertained by his subtle, and his blatant cruelty to others. It was more unusual what did get under my skin.
Like the fact that when he lived with his grandparents, they stocked the garage with orange Gatorade, because that's the only flavor he liked. I hated orange Gatorade, so it irritated me to watch him drink it all day long.
I hated the smell of the Aussie shampoo he used in his hair, and told him he smelled like a Metallica tape, knowing how much he hated them. He of course, did what he wanted no matter what I complained about. They were very odd things, now that I think about it, but I was still a growing girl. Who knows the insanity the human mind is capable of better than a teenage girl?
He would only playfully punish me for being so mouthy... but every now and then a little more of the beast would peak from behind my lover's playful mask...
and sometimes it would startle me.
The first time it did was after he moved back in with his girlfriend.
ReplyDeleteHe had just turned 18, and she was already 21. Theresa was pissed we this happened, but I saw it as an opportunity. There were rules at his former abode, and his grandma was always home.
When he moved in with Marcy, I would go to their place while she was at work, to fuck him.
I've told some of this story to friends of mine, and they always get angry that I didn't feel rage or jealousy... but then that's what all my doctors had a problem with too. Detachment from what would seem to be the appropriate way to feel.
I didn't analyze myself back then though... so it get's tricky trying to describe, what I still can't fully understand.
It was my first visit, and it was time to learn how to move my body when I was on top of him. He cradled my hips, and gently guided them to what ever movement pleased him. I liked being on top. I wanted to have control over the pleasure he gave me, and when.
I also wanted control over myself. To train myself to hold back a little... the way I saw him hold back, when he was trying to tease me.
It was the first time he had pulled my hair, like he was finally taking hold of the reins on a filly, who was trying to jump the fence. It was perhaps a warning that I was getting a little too cocky and was starting to fancy myself the master.
He bit me hard. Not on the neck, but on my stomach. Hard enough to draw some blood. It made me tightened every muscle, and I came to a climax without the help of his fingers soon after.
That wasn't the startle though.
It was when I was getting dressed to leave.
I don't know what smart ass thing I must have said to him, but it was pretty below the belt... and he knew I meant it.
He grabbed the paddle brush from his girlfriend's dresser, and hit me in the back of my head as hard as he could with it! I just sat there, staring at him in disbelief.
He wasn't playing that time.
I got up with a, "fuck you!"
and stormed out of the room, and to the door. I was trembling... I was so inflamed. He actually ran after me though, which seemed out of character for him. He usually didn't give a shit about what made me mad, but he pulled my too him, and said he was sorry.
"Don't leave me," he said almost too dramatically, as if in some movie.
But I liked it when he played some role with me. Movies were how I learned what people liked to see when they looked at each other... I always went right into character as soon as he gave me my cue.
"Don't hurt me like that." I told him... in that same theatrical manner.
He started calling me his twin soul after that... but even identical twins have to come to that moment where their invisible ties must be cut.
I understood Karl well, but that didn't make me him. I was always my own... and that would set a new dynamic in motion. A power struggle that would take us to a stand off... where if I were to stay with him, one of us was going to end up dead.
Holy shit the time flies when your wrapped up in a good book!
ReplyDeleteI didn't realize it was so late already. Anyone still awake to this shit? We can break for the night/morning, if not.
what was he like with animals?
ReplyDelete"Don't leave me"
ReplyDeletefail.
He didn't keep pets, but I knew he like to torture animals. His grandparents lived at the foothills of a mountain, and they always had rabbits coming around.
ReplyDeleteHe showed me a trick, where if you hit them in the right spot on their head, they kind of go into a convulsive fit, and stat flopping all over the place
Hit them in the right spot with a rock,,, that is.
ReplyDeleteWhere was his parents at?
ReplyDeleteHe also had a been put in a juvenile detention center when he was maybe 12 or 13, for setting fire to a mesa not far from home. His friends had ratted him out.
ReplyDeleteSounds to me that everything he would do to you was to get a reaction out from you. Even when he was killing those rabbits it was to get a reaction.
ReplyDeleteHis mother lived with his grandparents... his father was in prison for raping a 15 yr old girl.
ReplyDeleteis he grandiose, does he think he is a cut above "average people"?
ReplyDeleteMaybe it was to get a reaction... but he didn't. Sometimes that pissed him off... and sometimes he just laughed.
ReplyDeleteEventually it would set him off more than anything. I knew this. He wanted me to fear him... and would go to greater lengths to reach his goal the longer we were together.
Is he?
ReplyDeleteI don't even know that he's alive still. We were kids... I'm 37 next month.
I can say that he believed himself to be smarter and more talented than anyone else, and he was very cocky about how he played people.
it was to get a reaction, trust me. sociopaths are bored constantly so they resort to bullying and name calling to get some sort of arousal.
ReplyDeleteAny more questions from the checklist? Did he have a conscience?: as an example...
ReplyDeleteNo he did not. This was confirmed when the base player in his band did in a gruesome car accident. which left him decapitated... and though he was a long time childhood friend, Karl laughed his butt off, and told me he wished he could have been there to see it.
Have we effectively established that he's was a sociopath then?
*died
ReplyDeletei'm not sure. he could be just troubled. i don't know any other sociopath that plays in a band, that's not good impression management.
ReplyDeleteHe was 14 through 17, when he played in that band. It was a punk band, and he never got ended up getting a gig. He pissed people off too much to make anything a success.
ReplyDeleteKarl was not about "impression management". He didn't care if people hated him or if he stayed out of trouble. He became an addict and eventually was in and out of jail all the time for violence, and crime.
That's all you're getting out of me... I haven't finished telling my story for the ladies.
Goodnight Bette.
ReplyDeleteI'm getting offline now. See you tomorrow some time.
i was referring to the fact that most people in bands get branded as losers.
ReplyDeletei don't know any other sociopath that plays in a band, that's not good impression management.
ReplyDeletewtf?
When he got sick, he'd spit in his grandmother's prune juice! I still smile when think about that.
this cracks me up.....
very hot eden...
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ReplyDelete"When I hear a woman say she was very sexual and active right from childhood (Eden being one) accompanied by a fact that it wasn't until years later that they learned to achieve orgasm (again Eden being one) I sure am at a loss.
ReplyDeleteSex without an orgasm is only a torture."
@Sceli
I'd appreciate it, if you would not change my story. If you're going to read it, and put your two cents in, that's fine... but at least pay attention to detail first.
It wasn't until I was 16 that I started having sex. I had my first orgasm through sex, at 16.
I had my first orgasm without sex, when I was 4... but I'm not telling my whole life story here... just my experience with Karl.
@Bette
ReplyDeleteWould you like to hear more, or have I been taking up too much of your time? ;)
I can tell you that there is still a great deal of experimental sex, and I'll start going more into we started living together... (might even just skip to that, and leave a gap as far as my life with Theresa.)
But there is more brutality to the story of us living together, than hot sex.
your call.
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ReplyDelete@Erin
ReplyDeleteFirst tell me what's attracting you to the story? I hear victims on here talking about their experiences as if the whole time, they were in anguish.
Karl was my high, and my outlet. He was the beast in me that wanted an exit, but he was also a good example of what I didn't want to become.
I learned so much from that one experience in my life, and consider myself lucky to have learned it so young.
We didn't have internet. Everyone didn't have a cell phone. I didn't sit around all day trying to self diagnose, or analyze why I did the things I did.
It was 1992, and we were busy living in only the real world... not some cyber bubble where everything was safe.
Before I continue on, I will say Karl was the one and only man I allowed to do what he did. When I left him behind... That was it for me. No other man was allowed to dominate me after him. I didn't go out seeking more abuse.
I went out ready to start my life. Why I didn't slip back into the submissive role, I don't know for sure... That is why I tell this story.
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ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI think you want to live vicariously through other, less inhibited people.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDelete@ eden...I'm loving the story...you are in many ways telling a story I am very familiar with... i def want to hear more...
ReplyDeleteactually i was very sexual at a young age as well...I was not super orgasmic until later in life..
@ erin
your a strange bird...you act so prudish and shocked but you so desperately want to experience exactly what you felt with your s bf..but don't want the negative shit that comes with it...can't have it both ways..
do i need a google acct to create a blogger profile? Im sick of typing my screen name every time i post
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ReplyDelete@Bette
ReplyDeleteWell it will certainly stir up some shit in here with the ladies, I'm sure.
When it comes to predator vs. prey... most people like to keep their black and white views. They don't like any sign of gray.
"Choose a side!", they cry out...
Gray is my favorite color.
@ erin
ReplyDeleteare you listening?
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ReplyDeleteContinuing on, but skipping to us living together...
ReplyDeleteKarl was definitely parasitic.
ReplyDeleteHe didn't see the need to get a job, or pull his weight as long as he could find people to do it for him.
Interestingly, he didn't really expect me to play the part of the slave. He never really ordered me around. It was obvious that I was the functional one, of the two of us, and I'm sure he just figured I do what I wanted as it suited my needs, and in doing so he got his needs met as well.
So if I got tired of him hanging around, he simply went back to whomever would allow him to leach.
3 things happened the month I turned 17:
1. I was fired from my job.
2. Theresa kicked me out
3. Karl decided he wanted us to be committed to each other.
This is when things got really ugly between us.
I was in heaven when we could not be together, and I only got to see him once in a while, but once he decided he wanted us to be a couple, and live together, I resisted... at first.
He was living back with his grandparents when Theresa kicked me out. I had two weeks to find a place, and she was staying with her mother until I did.
So Karl stayed with me at the apartment, while I figured out what to do.
I loved the sex, but hated that we still had to be in each others presence when we were done.
We were not romantic I guess you could say. Intimacy didn't make since to me. It's like when you try to write with the other hand. It makes your brain feel kind of funny.
Karl and I had a different way of showing our love. I used to steal needles from hospitals, and draw my blood out with them, then store it in small bottles. I'd add alcohol so the blood wouldn't coagulate, and dress the bottles up, so they were presentable as a gift.
I also used my blood to write him poetry sometimes.
Karl would draw what he called "fry pads" for me. It was like a web of his favorite displays of violence, entangled together in one beautiful pattern. And when I would mention things I liked, he'd go steal them for me.
But when we were together my last two weeks at Theresa's, it was very dull. I didn't know what to do with him once we were spent from sex.
We fried a couple of times, and that was a fun ride. We did well on acid together, and discovered that sex when you're coming off acid is amazing!
Like being on E.
I felt like we were melting into each other. It never had felt so good to touch someone, and be touched.
But when the two weeks were up, I was more than happy to have him return home, and I became homeless once more.
I love the blood as a gift...Explain the fry pads? not sure i get that
ReplyDeleteI had a car by this time, but it was always breaking down, and it was October. '92 was a very cold year, and we started getting unusual amounts of snow.
ReplyDeleteIt was hard to sleep in my car on the coldest night, so I would wait till late at night, and crawl into Karl's bedroom window.
Sometimes I'd stay with one of the foster families I'd lived with 2 years prior, but it was always made clear to me that I couldn't stay for long.
One of them kept urging me to get a place with Karl, but I already knew the road I'd be going down if I did.
I even told my "foster mother": "I can't live with Karl. He used to beat his ex girlfriend, and we'd probably kill each other!"
(This ids the foster mother I told you about, Erin. The one who's son killed himself, and her reaction was: I feel only peace. It was his time to go.)
She told me that maybe I was probably just afraid to let someone get close to me, and wanted to see Karl as abusive, so I wouldn't have to commit.
I quickly ran out of places to stay. For what ever reason, no one wanted me to live with them... so Karl suggested we use the same trap we used on Theresa; with his grandmother.
I didn't want to freeze to death in my car. I chose the road to violence. It was no longer about freedom, or sex... it was about staying alive now.
@Bette
ReplyDeleteI'll have to scan one I drew myself, when I was 19.
Then I'll post just for you.
But I'll do this later...
Right now I'm getting ready to do a few things with the kiddos, and I'll post more of the story in between activities.
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ReplyDeleteHey.. Running errands n such too.. Il be checking in but it's a pain in the ass to read n post from my phone.. Will be at home in a few hours
ReplyDeleteWould love to see the pic..
Bb
I loved living at with the grans...
ReplyDeleteThe house was enormous so it was an easy life on our side of it. Easy as eating apple pie; that was my life there.
I guess you could say I was like Karl when it came to being in a position of having people take care of everything for me.
I slept in every day, while Karl was having to go to school
I had promised to look for a job, get on my feet, and be out after a few months, but that wasn't what I was doing.
The only thing I did while I was there: Wash my own clothes.
It would be all to easy for me to slip into a life of never working, and playing, always.
A friend of mine once said it was my "Peter Pan Syndrome", which included not only my not wanting any adult responsibilities, but also my inability to attach myself to people.
All my foster parents were turned sour on me, because I didn't treat them with the respect you give a family. I stayed for as long as they were needed... then get bored and abandoned them.
I guess Karl's family was no different. I wasn't their kid...
That was how I reasoned people not wanting to take me in any more.
I just wasn't their kid, or they would have put up with it.
Karl and I had reached a new level in our sexual relationship.
ReplyDeleteI had always been fascinated with porn, and with Karl I was able to explore that. But masturbation has always been the most interesting for me. One day, while sprawled out across his bed, looking through his porn mags, I just suddenly asked... "Karl, what do you think about when you masturbate?"
He smiled at me, with the smile he reserved for only teaching sessions.
"I think about blood. I think about killing, and fucking you when your dead."
I pondered his words for the rest of the day. Why wouldn't you think about sex with the living, while you masturbate.
I didn't fantasize when I would masturbate. I couldn't focus long enough to do it. It was like the whole saying: Can't walk and chew gum at the same time. So I would just let my mind wander.
But I wanted to know how people did it, and obviously Karl wasn't the right source for learning that. He had his ways and I had mine. I enjoyed watching him masturbate. I loved seeing the hungry look on his face when our eyes met.
I told him that when I was a little girl, I tried to imagine what it felt like to have a penis. I even had dreams about having one.
This got him hard as steal, and he would tell me how much he'd love to show me what that might be like some day...
I still have dreams about having a cock.
It feels fucking fabulous!
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ReplyDelete@Erin
ReplyDeleteI think every experience in life is worth it. You see life in terms of losses and gains. I see life in terms of levels and strengths.
Why do you regret so much? Reflective memory can keep your mind frozen to some place in time, no longer useful to you.
It's just a story now, Erin. It's not happening anymore. Once a person or place becomes a thing of the past, your memory of it, is no longer a living thing. It's history... and nothing more than that.
Real, is what's happening now.
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ReplyDeleteMy expiration at Karl's came after the holidays. In fact, they specifically said they were waiting for the holidays to be over to kick me out.
ReplyDeleteI always find that odd. Is it worse to be homeless during the holidays?
But Karl's mother was moving out again, and offered to take me with her, as long as I got a job.
The place she found, was a 30 minute drive from the foothills. It wasn't where I wanted to be. It was outside of the city somewhat, and there'd be nothing for me to do but work... but things had been getting tense between Karl and I.
He was starting drinking on weekends with his friends from school, and just leave me at home.
When he would come home, it's like I was just part of his bedroom furniture. He was probably fucking other girls by this point, but he'd never own to it.
I'd already made it clear that if he got to play outside the relationship, I could too. I had been with an old boyfriend while still living with Theresa. Why should I have to wait for him to get my needs met?
But Karl was done pretending to be fair. I belonged to him, and that was that. He wasn't fucking me anymore, and was preoccupied with some girl from his school. We got into fights constantly. So I was ready to leave him; get some distance between us.
I couldn't call him very often, because I had to go to a payphone. So I just let him be. His mother would drive us up to the grans on the weekends to do laundry, but he would never stay to visit me.
He just took off with his friends, and not even say word to me.
His mother started spilling all the beans once she saw how he was treating me.
Stories about serious behavior problems from when he was just a toddler, and fires he set... the way he was with his ex, and how he had always eluded her.
She started getting a bit pissy with me, when I questioned what her role had been as his mother. I just always figured if there were problems with the child, you know who to look at.
I stopped going up to the grans, once it was obvious I wasn't going to get anything out of it... but I wasn't going to forget this. I knew he wouldn't stay away for long.
I was his possession. He already saw me as the girl no one else could have, and it was going to be that way as long as I was alive.
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ReplyDeleteAfter graduation, he decided to move in with me.
ReplyDeleteHis mother moved in with her new boyfriend, but kept paying half the rent. Karl still wouldn't get a job, and all he wanted to do was drink, start fights, and steal shit.
He was like child raised by devils.
The world was his playground to set chaos off in. We had many good times. Our pass times got a bit outrageous. One time, we filled two socks up with gravel and more socks, took our shirts off, and beat the shit out of each other, in the front yard.
It was good for us. It was just another form of release, like sex... but charged in a different way. The harder we hit, the more excited we both got. We did have rules though. No head shots!
When we fought, it was becoming just as violent as our play. One day after we got into an argument about him getting job... he pulled me into the kitchen by my hair, so I grabbed a skillet and hit him in the back of the head.
"No head shots fucking bitch! That's the rules!" he screamed.
I bolted out of the house when I realized I was in deep shit now! I had expected him to be knocked out!
It's not easy to knock a psyco lunatic out apparently! I tried lots of times and it never worked!! Remember that boys and girls!
im here...keep on please...where are we in the story? how much time has past from the time you left the hospital? I need a sense of time..
ReplyDelete@ erin
i so don;t get your analysis...many don;t even get to experience that kind of passion and intensity...i would savor what you had..it is a choice to stay in the past...one that must have a pay off for you...once you figure out that payoff and see that it really doesn't serve you, you will be able to move on...i get the sense that you don;t really want to move on...you enjoy being a victim and fighting these imaginary demons...as i said earlier mental masturbation..
It's not easy to knock a psyco lunatic out apparently! I tried lots of times and it never worked!! Remember that boys and girls!
ReplyDelete..sage advice...lol
I was put in the hospital in November of '91
ReplyDeleteWe are now in the summer of '93.
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ReplyDeleteKarl started hanging out with an even rougher crowd that summer. Skin Heads.
ReplyDeleteNone of them claimed to be racist. In fact, the alpha of the group was half black, and half white. He was juggernaut. A second degree black belt, who was built like a some fucking warrior straight out of Heavy Metal Magazine!
Most of these boys had done hard time. None of them were even 25 yet. They had a whole mess of girls who hung around like bang groupies, or cult followers. That's how I saw them anyway. They just seemed out of place somehow.
They were allowed to talk to me, but Karl would not allow them to forge friendships with me. In his mind, everyone was trying to get down my pants... even the girls... he wanted it known who's girl I was.
I didn't care much. At this point I had been isolated from friendships and family so long, I wouldn't have known how to be their friend.
We all went out together, like a team of bandits. They never paid for beer. Every night 2 guys were appointed the "beer runners", and they would walk in to a gas station real casual like, grab what they wanted, and bolt out the door to the get away car!
Even in the early 90's security sucked. I sometimes reminisce about the good 'ol days, when a lot of stores didn't even have cameras yet.
I never paid for cigarettes, or clothes.
And I'm not just talking about when I was with Karl. I had been stealing shit since I was 9 or 10.
I guess I figured I had the right. I lived in poverty, I came from very limited options. FUCK 'EM!!!
...
ReplyDelete@ eden
ReplyDelete..did i tell you voyeurism is one of my kinks? you've got me hooked..i think i have a sw crush on you...
@erin
ah...you are looking for a cinderella story..they don't exist...did you even look into bdsm as i suggested?
One night we stole some beer and headed for a graveyard to hang out in. Karl's way of showing me affection. It was one of my favorite things to do as a child; walk around old grave yards, and read the headstones.
ReplyDeleteI'd make up stories about the dead, and try to imagine what the bodies must look like now.
The whole gang was with us. I took off on my own, but could hear everyone close by, laughing and making stupid dead baby jokes... It was getting chilly now. Fall was on its way.
I loved this time of the year. Something electric passes through the atmosphere that magnetizes everything around it, just before everything starts to die.
When everybody started to regroup, one of the other guys noticed that I was shivering, and offered me his jacket. I told him no right away, knowing what would happen if Karl were to see me wearing some other guy's jacket... but it didn't matter that I had refused him.
Karl saw the offer take place, and though he kept very quiet, I knew what he was thinking.
Before we left I caught a glimpse of a very old head stone that had my birth date on it: October 22.
But he date of the death was 1930 something. She was a nun. 'Mother Mary Margaret'. I told Karl I wanted it... so several of the guys, and Karl tried to pull it up... but it wouldn't budge.
We left once we saw the light from a flashlight, making its way in our direction. I thought that maybe Karl was over what he's seen earlier with all the excitement... I was wrong.
Medusa,
ReplyDeleteWhat does "..." mean?!
@Bette
That just put a great big smile on my face!
@Bette
ReplyDeleteI have to find someone to do it with,first.
Might not be on for several hours now. Going out...
ReplyDeleteProbably be back on in 4 or 5 hours to add more.
See yous guys later!
@ eden
ReplyDeletehave fun! will try n wait up
@ erin
anyone can do it..the key os to find someone who knows what they are doing..you'd be better off to learn what its all about ...and see if it interests you..its not physical as much as it is psychological..
"..." is my way of saying go on with the story.
ReplyDeleteThis is what it is in very simple terms...is it is consensual, therefore, is not abuse...
ReplyDelete* Is based on the safe, sane, consensual theory
* S&M is a controlled environment
* S&M has safe words to stop the scene
* In a S&M scene the dominant looks out for the well being of the submissive
* S&M can be an erotic sexual encounter
* In S&M both partners are enjoying themselves
* in S&M the dominant respects limits
* In S&M there is mutual respect
* In S&M the relationship is fulfilling
* In S&M both parties feel they contribute towards the relationships
* In S&M one can ask their partner to "play"
* In S&M relationship there is trust
* In S&M a submissive voluntarily serves the dominant
* S&M is about building trust
* S&M builds self esteem
* S&M builds the spirit of a submissive
@Eden
ReplyDeleteYou are so bad.It is like a Stephan King novel and I can't even read it, myself. One swat to you :)
Bette
This is my dilemma. I really do want to experience what you say but I need to do it in the context of love and trust.
I need to know that that person is my friend,the person I have committed to and vice versa.
My body is very sacred to me. I have,always,been this way.
I may have low self esteem with my emotions,but my body only goes to someone who loves me and me,him.
So, that narrows the playing field down to that special person whom I know loves me in a deep way.
Maybe,this is silly and unrealistic but it is how I am .
I ran across this which is exactly why i think you might be interested in this
ReplyDeleteBDSM can be a place where people learn to understand bad power dynamics in past relationships; it can be a place where people learn to manage or destroy bad power dynamics in their current relationships; it can be a place where people find glory, self-knowledge and freedom by manipulating their own reactions and responses to power.
@Bette
ReplyDeleteIt sounds good. I think one would need to really trust and respect the person, and vice versa.
One would need to really trust, oneself,too.
@bette
ReplyDeleteThank you for this info. I appreciate that you cared to give it to me <3
@ erin
ReplyDeletenone of what you say isn;t part of bdsm...it is sacred...the level of trust you have to have is immense...as i said it is physical but it is an emotional trip...years of therapy won;t get you to the place that bdsm will...i think you are looking for a level of commitment that promises no pain...that doesn;t exist in any realm.
I would love to do it, in the right circumstances.
ReplyDelete@bette
ReplyDeleteHow do you mean I am looking for a level of commitment that promises me no pain?
Please,say it in frank words.Thank you.
HOW does it get you to the place that years of therapy will not? I know it will be hard to describe in words.but I would appreciate it,if you are able.
ReplyDeleteErin's right. Without trust you could easily end up much more damaged... I know this well.
ReplyDeleteI think that's all she's saying.
I need to know that that person is my friend,the person I have committed to and vice versa.
ReplyDeletefirst let me say that you have shown that you don;t have a good judgement in the trust department. .it is exactly what I say.. i think your idea of love and trust is a guarantee of no pain..safety..there is no such thing..you are hypersensitive to any slight..real or perceived..you then go crazy trying to defend..you set yourself up for pain and then feel upset about it..
cmon...anyone else care to help me out here?
@bette
ReplyDeleteDon't have good judgement in the trust department ROLFL
I am trying to hear what you are saying,but it is hard cuz I have a lot of defenses.
I will try to listen without going ballistic. I appreciate that you care to help, Bette or anyone who offers an opinion .
ReplyDeleteBette you should tell us how you and badpenny got together, if you haven't already. Maybe you did while I was away from here?
ReplyDeleteyour right medusa..erin runs the risk of trusting the first person who is nice to her which could be very dangerous..i don;t suggest this lightly..there are many assholes out there who call themselves a "dom"
ReplyDeleteFor me..i am not a trusting person. I have found that submitting to another forces me to trust them and to let go..in that there is a weird freedom...i am not a submissive person by nature..i like to be in control..i don;t submit naturally...i fight...again, letting go of that need to be in charge for just a few hours for me was a lovely surprise..it allowed me to feel vulnerable and at the same time very powerful..i know this makes no sense..it is hard to put into words..its the exchange of power with another that you do trust that is a release of my defenses..its pretty powerful...
@Bette
ReplyDeleteIt sounds wonderful :)
well...we have a pretty cool story in my opinion..one that could have blown up but somehow works..
ReplyDeletewe met 20 years ago in a bar in SF...fuck that makes me sound old...i saw him and he was fucking gorgeous...he was body painting the dancers from the club next door...i was there with a girlfriend...i got a drink and beelined it to him...i was pretty bold back in the day...we talked for maybe 20 minutes and i said you want to get outta here..i absolutely knew i was going to fuck him...we went to the club next door, connected to the bar. i danced...he watched ( this is still the case today) ...he had his own place in the hip section of town...we went to his place and had incredible sex...i remember i saw a tattoo with a girls name on it by his hip..i asked him who that was..he said that was his wife who died...he seemed too young for that but somehow it made me feel close to him..i kissed it and fell asleep...and the drama begins...
Care to go on ,Bette.
ReplyDeleteEden took a hiatus,so we are here, a rapt audience, I think.
Right,Medusa?
well...neither of us were from sf..i had just broken off a long tern relationship..he had just gotten out of an sane one..the next morning we left to get my car and he was going to work...i remember such weird shit..we went and got fresh fruit and coffee at a coffee shop..he put lemon juice on our fruit and i thought this was the best fruit i ever had...very odd that things the mind remembers...he made me feel all goofy..i wanted him to like me...he was cool...we liked the same music..he liked art..he had a rat (which i hated btw) and i wanted this boy...i played it cool though and did the see ya laters...yeah yeah call me..
ReplyDeletethats insane...def not sane ...lol
ReplyDelete@bette
ReplyDeleteIt is sweet :)
Yep, pretty cute so far.
ReplyDeleteit gets pretty ugly...but man it started amazing...he called the next day and we spent two weeks in bed...i was not exactly without experience but he fucked me with an intensity and without inhibition..we were drunk in each other...the chemistry was unlike anything i ever felt...he never went back to work ...lol...i was in school so i didn;t have to do much..within the first few days he said wanna get married i said sure...it seemed so natural...he moved in with me by the end of those two weeks...he took over my life...my apartment became filled with all of his artwork...my dressers were painted...jackets were painted by him...we were inseperable and i couldn;t get enough
ReplyDelete@Bette
ReplyDeleteWhatever you care to share,I would like to hear. I am going to bed so will write in the morning :)
so...here comes the dark part...we went out to clubs, bars etc...but mostly, we stayed home and had sex...i cared about nothing else...i immediately was pretty much isolated from friends n family immediately...I managed to finish that semester of school but dropped out after that for a few years...after maybe 2 months together, i told him i wanted to use H. I had used lots of cocaine but never that. he had..we snorted it once...i said i want to shoot it...
ReplyDeleteI clearly remember the first time...the smell of the incense burning, janes addiction playing (on cassette ha!) and the most amazing feeling came over me....i was immediately hooked....i had been looking for that feeling my entire life...
and we had sex for hours and hours ....and i had two lovers that i couldn't get enough of...
@Bette
ReplyDeleteI have heard that about H.That is why I have been so careful about anything that would feel that good.
It is supposed to be like the most wonderful unconditional love.
It is supposed to be like mother's milk.
the next few years became a spiral of getting using and finding ways to get more..we went to LA a lot to cop...we had run ins with the law..wrote bad checks, stole and the whole nine..we would try and get clean...acupuncture, herbal teas, new city,,,we both wanted the nightmare to end but together we couldn't stop..he represented H to me and he was getting mean...i was finding out that he had lied to me about several things...i didn't understand the S thing back then...i just thought he was an asshole that i was hooked on..any time we spent apart, we always ended up back together...the pull was so strong..
ReplyDeleteHmm
ReplyDeleteI can feel it,Bette,when you tell it.
I am going to sleep but hope you will share more and thank you.
more to tell but i'm getting sleepy..
ReplyDelete@ Eden
looking forward to more ...
nite..
@Bette
ReplyDeleteYou're story sounds like something from a documentary. I only skimmed a bit, because I'm finally getting tired, and wanted to leave a little something for you, when you awaken.
Tomorrow, I'll do better... and read you through.
And now the real brutality begins in our story...
Something about me, in Karl's mind... would take him to places where he could go completely black. Past black, if there is such a thing.
ReplyDeleteThe rage he could feel when thinking about losing such precious metal. I was like that for him. He saw me not only as his, but as some second self that he couldn't let the world in on.
He beat the shit out of that guy later in the night, but I knew that wouldn't be enough for him.
"You think I'm bad?" He screamed at the gang of skin heads, and their pets... "She's just like me!" He pointed his finger in my direction, swaying the slightest bit, from his drunken state.
"You just can't see it cuz she keeps it hidden!"
Everyone just tried to divert his attention on something else. We were headed for breakfast.
"She's like the female me," he said in a different tone now. He almost sounded sentimental... but we had history now. I didn't fall for his bullshit.
When everyone looked at his behavior that night, they saw a drunk guy who just needed to sleep it off... I asked one of his close friends to stay the night at our place, I wasn't sure what violence was in store for me, while he was drunk.
But his friend just laughed it off when I told him that I knew I was in for a serious beating.
"Karl loves you... why would you talk about him like that?"
He dropped us off, and waited while we walked to the front porch. I think part of him wanted to watch, just in case.
Karl pulled me to him, and gave a show of the ever smitten boyfriend; nuzzling me and smiling with so much pleasure... but as soon as Derick started to back out of the driveway, he grit his teeth and said:
"You're gonna get it now bitch!"
Now it was just dark open spaces, a rabid animal, and me.
ReplyDeleteHe drug me in the house by my hair, but not without a fight. I was resisting him with everything in me. So to make it easier, he bashed my head against the door a couple of times, before he opened it.
"Why are you fighting me? You know that you deserve this!" He sounded very humorous at this point, like we were sharing a good joke.
I asked him to give me my charges.
"I saw the way you looked at him. You wanted him!"
I told him was wrong. That he knew he was wrong too! I had barely even looked at that guy. I got used to not looking at people in general, for very long.
It didn't matter. He was going to make me understand that there was no leaving him now.
"You'll never leave me, alive." He always said.
At first I thought I'd just go ahead and face the beating. Let him get it out of his system... but he whaled on me over and over... and my own rage could no longer be contained. I managed to get myself loose from him, and started pounding my fist into the back of his head.
Again, I was trying for unconsciousness, but it didn't work... I'd stopped a few seconds too soon.
He started laughing.
"You gave up too soon baby! I was so close too!"
I waited for his next attack, but he just went to the couch, and passed right out.
I went to bed in our room, and wondered how had I let it get this far? It was never supposed to be this on going thing between us. I knew I would have to make him leave.
The next morning he was a sweet as the honey, and spoke to me with the tongue of an angel... but I wasn't going to hear it. I fucked him... sure I did. I was always up for a fuck filled with rage.
But when the day moved slowly into evening, I told him to call a ride, pack up his shit, and go.
This was just routine. He knew the drill very well.
He went back to the grans, as he always did. A family never gives up on their blood. No matter how much they feared him... the door was always open.
I didn't miss him... but that's because I knew, this was not the end for us. The end was up to me alone... he would never give me up. If this were going to be over... I was the one in charge of that.
He sounds like an emotionally unstable beeper with a fear of abandonment
ReplyDelete@Eden
ReplyDeleteI can feel this being the end game of the "Mine,mine, mine".
We, all, are playing out past scenarios, even the most normal among us.
Faulkner said, "There is not present.There is no future.There is only the past, endlessly repeating"
What you are saying,I have felt with my relationship, not the actual events, cuz we never got that far.
However,the tone is familiar.
I know what you mean about the blackness and beyond blackness, even in my encounter.
That is how I would describe it, too.
morning...i really like how you write eden..i am mesmerized..you should put all this together in one piece and put it on your blog...i feel like i've missed some just because of reading it in pieces...
ReplyDelete"You'll never leave me, alive."
i know i'm fucked up but that is romantic to me
so...where i left off with our story...btw..there are details i can;t give out since a. it is wise b. bp comes on here too ...
ReplyDeletei was thinking..bp was the only boy that my parents--mom and step-dad ever liked...he wasn't from the background they preferred but he charmed the shit out of them..he had my step father eating out of his hand..they talked art, books, travel..he was really good at a young age..he convinced my step father to give us an expensive portrait to have it fixed...he of course would over charge him to have it done..we later got pulled over with H in he car and had to explain why we had this giant piece of art in the back of the car..he had this rich guy that he would sell art to..he would get his hands on it cheap..convince the guy its value would skyrocket and he would pay the $ that bp suggested...he was a kid...that was where we got a lot of money ...he was pretty fucking resourceful...
at this point..i actually told my mom and step father i was doing dope..they freaked..stopped sending me any money and took my car...i went to rehab for a few brief stints..a few days really..i would leave after i wasn;t sick any more and meet bp to get high..one time i left a place in the midwest and took a bus to nyc to meet bp...it was the longest bus ride ever..i had people in the rehab sign my bukowski book rather than the obligatory big book..actually got names of dealers in nyc from my new rehab friends..i wrote a countdown of hours in my book..as each hour passed, i would cross it off...it was over 20 hours..he met me at port authority and he had dope ready for me...we spent our days in nyc getting high...finding places to crash ...sleeping n parks during the day...it was still exciting to me...i refer to this as my lifestyles of the hip and homeless era
ReplyDelete"He sounds like an emotionally unstable beeper with a fear of abandonment"
ReplyDeleteKarl was not a beeper. His personality never shifted, he was always very sure of himself, thought he was the smartest motherfucker alive... and he didn't need any reassurance from anyone.
He could debate a subject with a whole group of people, and no matter how many people disagreed with his way of thinking, he always stayed calm, or mildly amused.
He didn't care if we were apart, just as long as I knew I could never be another's. And so far as I could see.... no one ever set him off like that. Just me, because I was his mate. He beat the shit out of that guy to show me what was coming, and to make an example of him with the rest of the group.
He wanted me to have to think about it all night.
@Erin
I want you to know that a lot of the bullshit you read on this blog, makes it seem like all sociopaths are this "smooth operator" type. Someone who is masked so well, and so gifted at charming the world around them, they never get caught. And anything that doesn't fit that dream mold for them, is not a true sociopath.
Karl was diagnosed. I didn't know what he was until I had a visit with his grandmother, 2 years after we broke up. She told me he was in prison, and wanted to share with me what his evaluations concluded. I guess she wanted me to know, that there was a name for what he was.
I'm pretty sure his family had been told before... but didn't want to believe it, or were ignorant about what it meant. His mother kept many secrets.
He was not high functioning, because he was an addict, and because he just didn't give a shit about society, or the law.
And anyone who tells you the low functioning ones aren't smart, are also full of shit. Karl had a genius level IQ... which was also, not self-proclaimed.
This blog is full of people who fancy themselves a high functioning, genius sociopath. That doesn't make it true. A lot of them are young still, and come from a very superficial generation, constructed by the internet, and mass media.
What I have to say in this rant about my old love, is based on facts... not some sensationalized framework, inspired by movies and comic books. :D
I'm still waking up... so I'm going to get my coffee started before I begin again....
hey eden...i'm traveling again today..so ill be on and off..i don't want to continue with my story until you complete yours..i'll be checking in..bb
ReplyDeleteEden
ReplyDeleteThank you for those kind and wise words.
@bette
I am looking forward to your story, very much, too.
Now that Karl was out of school, it became an even greater hardship for his the grans to keep him. So his grandfather bought him a car, so he could come and go as he pleased.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure the hope was that he'd be going more than anything.
His grandfather also help get him an interview, which Karl actually showed up for, and even got hired... but he never showed up for the first day.
I couldn't see him keep a job. He could never follow rules, or handle authority. Instead of getting a job, or doing anything remotely productive, now that he had a car... he just fucked around with the skins, skunks, and a few homeless punks all day, or came to stay with me.
Only 2 people had jobs out of the whole group; me, and the juggernaut skinhead. He was a bouncer.
I worked at a fast food joint, where I was only allowed to work the grill.
The store manager said she didn't put me on the registers, because she was afraid I'd attack some of the customers. I think secretly she meant: I don't trust you around the cash!
But she was right to see m potential for going off. With so madness in my personal life, and the fact that I too, had a small problem following rules; it was getting harder for me to contain my abusive nature.
One girl even quit because she was afraid I would kick her ass, when I found out she was talking shit about me.
I had a car now too. The death of my mother's father, left me with a check from New York Life Insurance, because for what ever reason... my grandfather had taken out insurance on all his grandchildren.
I had to forge my father's signature on it because I was still a minor, and it was only $650... but it bought me a '79 Thunderbird, that ran well, and took up more than half a country road. It had a fucking 8 track player in it!
Karl and I decorated it with spray paint, and I put a Fear sticker on the bumper that said: I don't care about you Fuck you
Karl never said he was sorry about that night. I didn't expect him to either. He expected me to suck it up, and move on. I had known how he was going into the relationship... no point in crying over it. I remember him once telling the drummer of his band:
"She's tough enough to handle me."
Things got good again for a while: On my 18th birthday, Karl took me to a porn shop, and bought me a strap on.
ReplyDeleteI stood in the mirror admiring my girlish figure against the contrast of this phallus. I felt incredibly sexy, and powerful.
At first, Karl would just fuck me while I wore it. I was still the submissive no matter the cock I wore, and strangely I still felt very feminine. Which is how I've always viewed myself no matter how society sees me.
But after a while, he let me try to fuck him with it a time or two. It didn't work out. He wasn't as turned on as he thought he'd be.
I liked it a lot, but it was fine with me if I didn't get to dominate him that way.
We also started playing rape... which would get out of control almost every time, because rape represented a different kind of power for me, and the conflict in me would begin. I would fight him for real... and so it became real rape in a way... but the sex was still good, and I got over it as soon as he was inside me.
Listening intently..
ReplyDeleteBoarding flight going to NYC today is a bit creepy..
I am listening,intently,too.
ReplyDeleteSometimes he would talk about us getting married, but we both hated the idea that in order to be married, that would mean us having a binding that was established by the government, not just by religion... so we would kid about performing a fake wedding, so we could get a bunch of free shit!
ReplyDeleteHe even spoke about me having a child with him... but I hated children, and I figured we'd both be abusive. I was the one always slipping poisonous spiders in his little sister's Polly Pockets. He had no love for her what so ever... or any of his family for that matter, and she was only 5 at the time.
He spoke very highly of me to his friends. Bragged about me even. No women could hold a candle to me, but I always figured it was more that no one could take his shit the way I could.
The other thing was that while he enjoyed picking on the weaker women who hung out with the skins... no way was he going to keep a mate who was as weak as them. Sometimes the guys would bring around some flaky bitch just to set me off on her.
I wouldn't go for it at first, but they knew that any display of weakness mixed with stupidity, and zero grasp of reality; would always get my juices going if exposed long enough.
One night, at Derick's graduation party, a friend brought his ex girlfriend over, and kept rejecting her advances towards him on purpose, and in front of everyone. The guys started fucking with her, and trying to get me to go off on her... while she begged him to take her back.
"Se what a stupid bitch she is Baby," Karl would hiss at me.
"Don't you want to fuck her up?"
I told her she should go home before she got herself hurt, and suddenly this mouse of a girl who was practically on her knees... was cussing me out, and telling me to mind my own business!
Total miscalculation on her part. I always looked so young for my age, and was somewhat under-developed, and skinny.
I told her to watch her filthy mouth, and warned her a second time to go home.
The ex boyfriend told her maybe it was a good idea for her to listen to me, and leave before it got ugly... she lunged at him, biting a hole in his face... and that's when the beast in me stepped forward.
When I fought with women, I was like a cat.
ReplyDeleteEver watch a cat just fuck with its prey? They are one of the most viscous of predators because they enjoy a slow, torturous play with their victims, and with sometimes no intention of eating them once they're dead.
She was in for a long night.
I pulled her off of him and dragged her into the back yard by one leg... allowing her head to hit whatever it hit, on the way out there.
The guys became frenzied. They followed us like pack of wild dogs, but with no intention of coming to her rescue. Their job at this point was to keep me going, so my adrenaline didn't stand a chance at coming down.
I pulled her up by the front of her shirt, and demanded that she apologize to her ex!
Then I saw her pupils. She was on something... probably coke.
"Fucking coke head!" I hissed.
"You psycho junkies are all the same!"
She started laughing.
I took that as an indication that she was asking for the abuse, and proceeded to hit, kick, and throw her around, for the better part of 3 hours.
I'd giver little breaks, and even continued to hold a conversation with her and the rest of the group, before starting in on her again.
She would cry, but then she'd laugh... and once I got bored with it, it was time for her to go.
With her kicking and screaming I carried her to her car, and dropped her body on the pavement in front of it... then I kicked her till she was breathless, and begging for me to stop.
I picked her up, placed her in the car, and asked for her keys. She handed them to me, I put them in the ignition, and started the car up.
"Go home little girl." I said to the woman who was four years older than me.
"Sleep it off." Then I walked back inside, and settled down with a beer, and a smoke.
The guys came back in laughing and carrying on... they just couldn't believe what had happened.
Not what I did... but what their friend did.
Apparently he decided to go home with her, and when she finally was able to regain some composure to leave; he left with her.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteShe got fair warning, Erin.
ReplyDeleteThat's always been what I go by. If you've been warned, then what happens after is your own fault.
@Eden
ReplyDeleteI was saying "me".I was not dissing you,Sweetie.
I know. I'm just making sure you understand the dynamics of how this works.
ReplyDelete@Eden
ReplyDeleteI did not fall off the turnip truck,yesterday,although sometimes,it would appear so :)
Please, don't get sidetracked with me.Please, go on.
That winter I almost died.
ReplyDeleteIt was more severe than the one before it, and I ended up with a virus that settled into my lugs, causing me to choke all day and night, till I would vomit. I went completely def in my right ear, and Karl eventually drove me to emergency, when I reached a temperature of 105, and putting me in an ice bath wouldn't bring it down long enough.
I was hallucinating, and couldn't make sense of anything going on around me. In fact... Karl had to force me into the car, because I didn't even give a shit that I was so sick, and had no concept of how dangerous my high temp was.
It took me 3 weeks to get well enough to go back to work, and Karl had me stay at the grans, so he wouldn't have to take care of me himself.
I was sick for a total of 2 months though, and def in my ear for 3.
The inside of my inner ear has permanent damage.
Karl got sick too. Not as sick as I had, but sick enough to need medical attention... but I refused to take him to the hospital. Part of it was because I was far to weak to drive, but the other part was some sadistic side of me, hoping to see just how close to death he would get... so his mother finally took him.
Due to loss of wages, I could no longer make my half of the rent... so we were given a month to find another place to live.
I didn't make very much money, and Karl wouldn't get a job still... so we had to settle for a one bedroom in one of the war zones.
The rent was only $200, because the neighborhood was so bad that even the cops didn't want to go into it, unless they absolutely had to.
I liked it. It was all mine, and was town home style, so the bedroom and bath were upstairs; living room and kitchen, down.
We sat on the patio the first night, Karl and I.
Even though the land lady warned us that it wasn't smart to even look out your window while cars went by, or you could get shot at.
It just didn't occur to me to be afraid of that.
We had a phone finally. Karl's mom decided to pay for one, and told me it was because she was beginning to fear that he might try to kill me, and I'd have no way to call for help.
"Call me first," She said.
"Always call me, instead of the cops, unless it's really bad."
We watched from the patio, as the last pizza delivery guy, who was willing to go into that area, got robbed.
I asked Karl if he thought we should call the cops, but we both agreed that it wasn't really his money anyways... only the idiot establishment's, that sent him there in the first place.
No one would deliver there after that.
@Eden
ReplyDeleteI cannot imagine having no one.I had a crazy making mother and almost lost my mind,but I had a home and good extended family.
It is amazing what you have survived and still retain your humanity.
landed .. Another layover..
ReplyDeleteI fuckinh hate people
ReplyDeleteCommemortivr 9/11 tshirts for sale at the gift store
Steel Standing..Ugh
Eden.. What your book about?
ReplyDeleteWhere'd you go?
ReplyDeleteI'm back, and ready to finish this thing.
ReplyDeleteIt's my memoir Bette.
ReplyDeleteSo it has this story in it... but it also goes deep into my childhood, and also my relationships, and evolution after Karl.
Can I buy your book, Eden?
ReplyDeleteI'd love to read it.. is it authored under Eden Ralene?
ReplyDeleteBoarding my last flight for the day.. Will check in when I can actually get on my comp...
ReplyDeleteOnce Karl and I were living in the city again... the whole gang seemed to want to live there with us.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what the attraction was, but our place was alive 24/7.
20 some odd people, were in and out all the time. I was only getting 3 hours of sleep if I were lucky.
A couple had moved in next door who looked like your average every day... but after hanging out with the gang a couple of nights, Karl asked if I would give him a mohawk.
(I was the group barber!)
He changed the way he dressed, and h0w he acted, almost over night. It was fucking crazy how easily influenced some of these guys were. They wanted to feed on the power, and somehow make it their own power.
We were only there for a month before we got our first eviction notice. Derek got into a fight with one of the skins, and drove his head through the downstairs window.
I was infuriated! It took a lot to get me to that point, but when I did, there was no controlling it. My body started to tremble... Derick was always fucking our shit up, and was a spoiled rick kid. I kicked everyone the fuck out!
Can you see it? 5'5"... and 114 pounds soaking wet, standing in a room full of giants, ordering them to get the fuck out of her shit hole! I could tell some of them wanted to crush me for daring to give them orders... but they left, and Karl left with them.
The next day we had a note on our door that said we had 7 days to fix the window, or we were out.
I made Derick ask his daddy for the money. It helped that juggernaut skinhead, threatened to beat his ass if he didn't.
The window was fixed in two days... but Derick never came back.
"It's a matter of principles,"
juggernaut had told him.
"You can damage what ever place you like, as long as it's not my place." and juggernaut now considered my place his home. He was even helping with the rent.
Things declined no matter what though. Karl loved chaos, and if the night wasn't crazy enough, he'd start break bottles in great piles on the kitchen floor... just for fun.
They put blankets over every window, and even in front of the doors, so the place became like a cave. Then they decided to decorate the walls, much like Karl and I did my car.
The guys decided too, that our place would be ideal to store their weapons, and juggernaut was now running drugs out of our place, a trade that Karl gladly took up.
It was the very definition of .
Surprisingly the people on our block were becoming more afraid of us, than the Mexican gags that usually terrorized those street... and we weren't even shooting at people!
It was very exciting, but sometimes I just wanted to be away from the noise. Karl was getting more aggressive again. Nothing like violence, drugs, and the the fear in eyes of the people in the world outside our front door... to make him feel like he was king kong!
ReplyDeleteOne time, we got into a fight over one of his homeless punk friends, always getting too fucked up, and puking on my floors, then just leaving it there. He was just pure trash to me. I had pulled the boy up from his bed on the living room floor... and just like a dog, put his face in the old puddle of his own vomit, and told him if he didn't start cleaning it up, I'd make him eat it.
Karl saw that as me somehow undermining his authority... and tried to choke the life out of me that night.
It was the second time he'd choked me like that.
Another fight lead to him holding a gun to my head, then kicking me down the stairs.
How much violence are you willing to withstand in order to keep your high? How close to the edge of danger, even death; will you stand so you can feel your whole self wake up to the vibrations all around you? To feel every wire light up, and almost connect you to life outside your body?
I was just another junkie... sober as can be.
I was done. I knew that if I stayed there with him, one of us was going to die, and it wasn't going to be me.
I stood up, and walked out into the midnight air. Spring was on the way, and I could feel the change of the season all around me. I walked the black streets, knowing the danger was never outside. It followed me, yes... but it was not on these streets, or even in that shit hole that I called home.
A flame began to get bigger and bigger inside my head, till I felt like I would .
When I got back home, I grabbed Karl by the hand, and lead him up to the room.
"Remember what you always told me you'd do if I ever ended up dead before you?" I asked him
"Yes. I told you I'd fuck you for the last time." and he suddenly became very aroused.
I drew him close to me so I could smell that sweet smell of alcohol on his breath, and said: "I'm dead baby, and I need you to fuck me one last time."
He kissed be just the way he did when we first met, back we were still so hungry and new to the experience of one another.
We fucked like the world was on fire, and when we were done... I quietly got up, and started packing my things.
"You're not going to leave me baby, you know I can't let you leave me and live."
I just kept doing what I had to do. So he grabbed me from behind, and pulled me to out onto the balcony.
"Time to die then!" he said in his joking way, but he was actually going to do it. He was going to throw me off it.
I screamed for someone to come up and pull him off me, but no one bothered... so with everything I had left in me, I shoved my body back hard, and we both fell over... the fact that he was always drunk now, was my life saver. I scrabbled to my feet, and before he could even blink, I kicked him in the face as hard as I could, with my steel-toed boots.
I broke his fucking nose!
The boys were up in a flash as soon as they heard him scream. I grabbed my shit... shoved past all the boys on their way up, and walked my ass out of there.
He was yelling at me from the balcony as I walked out into the street.
"You broke my nose baby!" and he was laughing. "My girl is a fucking bad ass!" he yelled.
I din't respond. I didn't even look back at him.
I just smiled quietly to myself and thought: Thanks for the motherfucking boots asshole!
That's all I'm going to tell you.
ReplyDeleteIt wasn't the last time Karl was in my life, but it was the end to our relationship.
Raw as can be... obviously unedited!
Aww Why not go on?
ReplyDeleteEden Ralene is an alias. I haven't decided who to publish under. Right no the focus is on the editing... and that is consuming enough.
ReplyDeleteMy Editor is having trouble getting me to better express emotions. So I get reading assignments. and a shit ton of instructions.
Her side notes make me dizzy... but I want it to be the best it possibly can.
Want me to edit comma's?
ReplyDelete@Erin
ReplyDeleteBecause I'm not going to write the whole rest of my book out, on this blog.
You may ask some questions about the information I already posted, but I won't probably will keep what happened after we broke, to myself for now.
@Bette
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed the free show. ;)
Ok,Eden, I would like to ask some questions.
ReplyDeleteThe first one is why is a Socio such a good lover?
I'm sure it's a matter of being completely free to explore. The mind is asleep to all the things that would cause a person shame, or to concern themselves with sexual boundaries.
ReplyDeleteThey are whole body driven by carnal desires. But they are also fully aware of what you need from them, because they've studied you like a science project.
@Eden
ReplyDeleteYes, I was thinking the shame thing,too, cuz most people are ashamed of their sexuality to a greater or lesser degree.