Why does this happen Why do I do this? Throw myself to wolves.
It was all arranged. Valentines Day, coffee just Anca, Fawn and me together then dinner with Peter, Alex and Sorin then…who knew.
After our afternoon coffee I excused myself and went off for a walk, as I often do. Later I called Anca and told her something important had come up and I wouldn’t be able to make the dinner but that they should go and have a wonderful evening, and to give my apologies.
What I didn’t tell my sister was that something in me had snapped, rarer these days, and that I’d spent my afternoon crawling from bar to bar, chatting to men and taking them out back to fuck. Then I went to a place, a kind of swing club but not the sophisticated type, where people just turn up to fuck. It’s kind of underground. So, I’d paid my money, went inside, stripped, got down on all fours, and spent the early part of the evening being mounted like an animal. It was quiet being early in the night but more than a dozen men must have had me. After I’d been poked and prodded and drenched in cum and left on the floor where I had a quick nap, I showered, dressed and left.
I suppose it must have been about eight when I wandered out of the ‘club’ my hair still a little matted and feeling low. I picked up something to eat from some fast food place, sheltering in a doorway to eat, out of the worst of the cold wind. Now I felt a little ill-at-ease, the food was not of the highest quality and weighed heavy.
By nine I was wandering along, my coat clenched tight to my body and my furry hood keeping some of the freezing air out. For some reason I was crying, berating myself for being stupid with all those men.
I finished up at the entrance to another special club, an underground place that locals know about but tourists rarely find. It’s a place for aficionados of the BDSM life.
This won’t be a long post. Suffice to say I went in, spoke to a few people I’m acquainted with, then struck the appropriate pose to indicate my chosen role as toy. And play with the toy they did.
I spent a while in a ‘sling’, a kind of hammock that hangs from the ceiling on chains. One sits in it and it holds the legs wide open, exposing the cunt and arse. Its height is around hip high. I’ll leave you to imagine what occurred with that. Then I was moved to the large X (they call it a St Andrews Cross), strapped in and flogged and slapped for some time. Until just after midnight various people, I don’t remember who, moved me from equipment to equipment, administering little tortures and punishments, while I acquiesced to every degradation. I had inserted larger and larger dildoes in my cunt and arse until my physical limit was reached, I couldn’t be stretched any wider, and when it was finished I chatted with a few of people I’d known in my old life. There was even a man I’d been a whore for so long ago. He asked me if I was available now, I said no, I wasn’t doing that anymore. i finished my drink and left not long after, to find a taxi. Walking was a little awkward.
You see the way it works with D.I.D. is that when one of my identities takes control, I am that person. Tonight I was that small girl I’d been, who had been used by my uncle, and I was completely subservient to anyone who wanted to make us of me. Obedient, as a child is taught to be. I will not argue or resist in that identity because I do as I’m told. My voice, posture, facial expressions, even my vocabulary, are as if I were small. Then when the stress that brought the identity out, and I don’t always know what that stress is, reduces or fades into the back of my mind, my rational identity takes control back and I am who is writing this now.
Some people with D.I.D. have complete memory blackouts for the time they are ‘other’ but I retain fragments, sometimes whole chunks, and rarely, entire memories.
I feel regret that my others sometimes lead me to harm and I’m trying to fight it. Bit it is a long process and very hard. The thing is I love it when it’s happening, mostly, and that reinforces that identity’s claim on me.
My new girlfriend returns today from a trip and with her, it may turn out to be truly love. If we are to be together then I need to explain to her just who I am, even some of who I was, maybe all. I fear she will leave when I tell her but if we’re to be together, she has a right, a need, to know.
Thank you for listening. xxx Nina
