Page 25 of Keeping Her Under

Leaving me to seek it in the dark parts of the world. In the dark parts of me.

I found it in self-harm.

In self-disgust.

In breaking other things around me.

Of drugging women and doing to them what was done to me.

And when that wasn’t enough, I’d target a man even though I’m solidly straight. Because it wasn’t him that got me hard. It was them. My abusers. So, full of self-loathing, I’d leave him bleeding out of his ass while he laid in his own cum.

It never made it better.

Not even temporarily.

But there was an allure to that darkness. A desire to fill the hole that those men carved out of me with something that wasn’t so... empty.

Or perhaps I didn’t want to feel the helplessness they forced on me. After all, who is more powerful than the ones that made you weak?

A door opens somewhere below me, and the sound of voices rises up. I glance down at my cock to see how obvious it is. As much as I hate what was done to me, for some fucking reason, it’s bled into what gets me off.

A part of them lingering on me.

Inside me.

Forever.

Unable to get clean.

I want to scream.

I want to cut off my hard, throbbing cock.

Instead, I open the door to the third floor slowly. Seeing no one, I hurry into the bathroom only a few steps away.

I don’t lock the door.

I need to believe that it isn’t just the memories getting me off – that, in truth, it’s the thrill of being caught.

So I wrap my hand around my cock and face the door. Cupping my balls with my other hand, I jerk myself off. With each tug, I wonder why…

Why the fuck being raped made me come.

Then.

And now.

The disgust eating at me almost makes me throw up my breakfast. My cum is splattered all over the tiled floor. My pants are still down. My cock’s still in my hand. I want to punish myself for what I’ve done, today of all days.

Summer’s day.

Fuck!

Releasing my cock, I turn towards the sink and start washing my hands. I clean the cum dried into the hairs at the base of my dick and on my balls.

Anger rushes through me as my thoughts churn. I haven’t given into those urges for over a year, and the fact that I did today…

Is it an omen?