From the Wild Collective Heart series: Part 21
Content Warning: Psychological abuse, coercive sexual dynamics, BDSM/D/s dynamics, trauma reenactment, dissociation/DID, manipulation, sexual language, and references to childhood trauma.
He called himself our pimp when we came back to him. He was beyond happy about it. I was not celebrating, as I understood this to be reenacting on our part, and his part? Well, the truth reveals itself in “pimp” from the get-go. I mean, I can’t put it any more succinctly than that.
I was not as cohesive as we are now, nor was I at the helm of our life any longer when this happened. I came out fighting and furious.
I told him and my selves this was only reenacting and soon it would be done with, to which he mocked me, telling me, “You just need a little reenacting and all good to go.”
I guess this is when it became sincerely personal for me. He knew I was not in executive control of my system. He started in on calling me a bitch and telling all parts of me I am just a bitch he needs to submit. I tried to keep front. I tried to handle it, but Rogue was better equipped.
-Raven
Yeah, the trouble is I liked the psychological fuckery. I still do, but of course now, I understand that he in particular did not have our best interest in mind, and it could not be a real D/s without the key elements of negotiation, sanity, and boundaries, along with discipline and, foremostly, consent.
I kind of chalked it up to, well, at least we’re alive! We’re living and making choices, and that’s better than dying from COVID! I needed the structure and the attention. I needed to be allowed my sexual-ness without the constant shame of that expression from various parts of self. No shade intended. This is all hindsight stuff, anyway.
I fell head/vagina long into a D/s arranged around my trauma and his narcissism. I had fun too. Hence why I reiterate, I thought I was also a psychopath like my father, like him. I fucking found him so relatable it was intense. Like, we were made for each other.
AND we were, sort of.
It’s that whole empath and hunter-prey dynamic. Oh fuck me, I had lived for that shit. Not only was it home, right? It was intoxicating. It was enthralling, finally the vampire I could be fucked by. Chills.
But I do solemnly recognize he fed off my ability to imagine and create enough for me to make him a prince of darkness to begin with. He really had to do very little, actually. I filled in the blanks of him with my fantasies, and he willingly accepted.
Gods, if only we’d met in a mental institution.
-Me playing. Sort of.
-Rogue
Yeah, well, while I was living the horror of being aware we were being conned and abused, catfished even, I’m glad you enjoyed it.
-Raven
Don’t get pissy. You enjoyed it too.
-Rogue
No comment.
-Raven
Omfg, this is your time to shine. No shame, babe.
-Rogue
Alright, I fell for him too. For a moment I understood the dynamic and believed we’re fucked and crazy, and what else is there to do but join them and see what this is all about? BUT I read and learned about true BDSM dynamics on the side, and yeah, I knew this was not going good places.
-Raven
You liked it.
-Rogue
Oh, I loved it. I have no shame about that. But he was not a Dom. Not at all.
-Raven
True. So boring though, but true.
-Rogue
