When I webcam with someone (it does not always involve showing my hole), guys often ask me about the ״movies״ in the background.
However, these are not movies.
What are they?
More about that below.
While driving to work yesterday, I was thinking about the older creature that raped me when I was 17. I have been thinking about the whole incident more during the last couple of days than the previous 25 years.
I wrote the first part a few days ago. You can read it here:
This blog post is the third part of my story.
But where is the second part?
I am still struggling with my emotions to be able to write the second part. Do people want to read the details of how this guy molested my body? I'm sure it will give readers an uneasy feeling to learn every detail.
It also gives me a jittery feeling, having to remember that frightful afternoon. Ever since I wrote the first part, more disgusting details surface back against my will.
During the last 25 years, I tried to forget everything that happened between climbing the dark stairs dressed and the moment of being naked, covered with cum in his dirty bed, and having to clean myself.
I wrote "cum", and not "his cum", because he raped my cock too, not just my ass.
What did this bastard think when he tried forcing his massive cock into my ass and his stinky hairy hole into the face of a frightened 17 years old teenager?
I can't get into a raper's mind and analyze it. I don't think that I want to. Especially since I was his victim and perhaps not the last one.
Every day of my life, I try to see good.
I try to learn and evolve.
I changed a lot since the right side of my brain was damaged over a year ago. That should not be a surprise to you. But has this horrific experience with this cruel pervert changed me, and if so, how?
I think it did.
I believe that events in our childhood and what we experience as teenagers affect our lives in ways that we can't comprehend.
Take the "movies" that guys ask me about. Here is a photo of me standing next to them. Those are not movies; this is a small part of my game collection.
I have over 1000 PC games.
Most of them are from the era when I was growing up as a child. I collect games from the '80s and the '90s. Most of it is on display, in my bedroom, movie room, my home office, and other places around my large apartment.
When did I start collecting video games?
I started the moment I could afford it.
I grew up in what you would consider today a low-income family. Both my parents worked very hard all their lives to provide two things for the four of us: healthy food and education.
As a child, I wanted to buy and play video games. I remember the colorful boxes and the beautiful images at the back. I was dying to play every one of them. But at the cost of 50$ or so, there was no chance that my parents would allow it.
We did have a computer at home because my parents saw the future. I was a child when they bought an Apple IIC. That simple purchase changed my life because eventually, it made me a software engineer.
Once a year, for my birthday, I got a video game as a present, sometimes two.
When I started making my own money, I wanted to buy all these games from my childhood that I could never afford. This desire and the means to achieve it is how my collection was born.
I gave this example to show how the events of my childhood have shaped my adult behavior.
Concerning this example, can an hour or so of forcefully being humiliated and sexually assaulted can affect my life 25 years later?
I think so.
As I have written last week, during the last two years, my co-worker has been bullying me. In the previous year, since I became disabled, it has indeed worsened, but it has started on the third day of my employment.
I wrote about it in the following post:
Last week I decided I can no longer accept it and brought it to the attention of my boss.
Both my boss and the CEO have asked me:
Why did you wait for so long?
Why did you not say anything?
Why did you not put him at his place?
My boss told me: "Now it might be too late to deal with it as far as the two of you working together ever again."
Why did I not say anything?
In retrospect, I think it is because I was raped and assaulted when I was 17.
When someone bullies me, my immediate reaction is feeling helpless.
Instead of defending myself, I am frozen in place. I can't say or do anything. I get into a state of shock. After the bullying is over, I try to forget about the incident and pretend that everything is normal. That's why, while I am a very assertive person during my daily life, I had never put this guy in its place.
I am not a psychotherapist, but I think the link is evident to the trauma that I have suffered as a teenager.
Despite everything that I wrote above, this creep did not take my passion for sex and my desire to be intimate with another man. Perhaps he has even intensified my yearning to experience love and warmth and to feel a strong man making love to me and my ass.
Maybe each time a guy or a lover gently and passionately enters my body, more of that terrible experience is gone.
Wednesday afternoon, when Dean's young hot lips were kissing my love hole in my rooftop Jacuzzi, I did not think of the gross, stinky from a cigarette, lips of that creature doing the same to me in his sickening shitty apartment.
Later, when Dean was making love to my ass and kissing my neck while I was in doggie and he was inside of me, the water bubbling all over us, I did not think of that guy trying to do the same to my 17-year-old ass, so many years ago.
The age gap between Dean and me is over 20 years (he is 20), the age gap between the guy who raped me and me was 30, perhaps 35 years.
But what Dean is doing with my body is innocent young love; what the brute did to me was sheer mature hate.
I don't need to be a psychotherapist to know that.
Even though the pain and hate he inflicted upon me affect my daily life, I grew up to be a man of love.
I am a person who seeks compassion.
I am an adult who provides guidance and caring for others.
I will never be 100% free from what he did to me, but when you look at the grand scheme of things I can conclude that:
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