Sexual Demon

I suppose a better label might be sexual deviant. Not the usual kind. Not the hurting, or unloving kind, but a deviant nevertheless. Let me explain.
\nI have touched the woman I live around anywhere I feel like touching her, even though she doesn't really want me doing it like this. Even when she's drunk, high, or asleep. When I get away with it without disturbing her, it feels very exciting. She really just wants me to love her, make love to her, but accepts I do this because it's who I am. As long as she allows it, I feel I have permission to do what I want, and I do what I want. But it is still not right. It may feel right at the time, because the excitement goes along with the sex, but without this feeling of excitement, just having 'normal' sex is too boring.
\nI'm touching her while loving her. And while I have explored this over the years with other women, no one has ever made it possible for me to explore it quite so openly. It is not the sex exactly, but the feeling of power that comes from doing something I'm not supposed to do. I understand how some people might end up becoming sexual predators, even raping women, because while the feeling of doing this is way better than normal sex, like a drug, it soon isn't enough to just do what has been done before, and the idea of doing more, getting away with more, can become overpowering. Without shared intimacy, it descends into something base, something that is ultimately selfish and self-gratifying. Only when she returns the love does it feel right. When I take it, it feels powerful and intense, but wrong afterwards.
\nThis sexual demon has been with me a long time. It would have me do many things I simply will not do. I always have a choice, even when the feeling and possibility is so strong as to make it almost impossible to choose anything else. But choose it I do, and not choose it I also do.
\nI do not lust after other women. Don't even see other women as objects of desire. The idea of being with this woman this way is only because there has been a history of dominating and controlling her. I can no longer fall in love with her, be in love with her, other than just loving who she is. She is one of the most intelligent and caring women I have known, yet so simple and naïve in many ways. So she is perfect for allowing me to express the demon safely, now and again, and in a way that still involves something loving. For without love, any expression of this would be something else. I am not something else, yet it still exists in me.
\nSo where did it come from? Has it always been with me? Do I have to give it its freedom, as if it is part of me, or can I control it? Or does being with someone who allows me to explore it, also make the idea of it more real? That to let it go I need to let her go, for without her, it would not have a way to come out. I can only really do this with a prior willing partner, in just the same way that many couples choose to explore weird or kinky antics in the privacy of their own bedroom. Yet, I know I could and have done it with others in the past, who were not my partner, where the reward was high, but the risk too much for my poor heart to bare.
\nYet, for a man who now walks a so-called spiritual path, indulging this demon, rather than exorcising it, may be holding me back, in fact I feel sure it is. The demon makes it feel like there is nothing I want more than satiating the desire, until the desire is satiated, than I realise that I have again fed it in a way that will only satisfy it for a short time, but make it more likely to come back for more.
\nIn many ways, having someone like her is the ideal companion for someone who can so easily indulge himself this way. Trouble is, she allows me to indulge everything and anything. You name it, she will do it. From massaging every inch of me, to cooking, cleaning, sowing, making, going, getting, anything my heart desires. She never complains or expects anything in return, so I only need surprise her from time to time and she is content. I often don't need to ask her to do anything, she does it because she knows I like it and loves to do it. She is a special woman. I don't deserve her, never did. Yet she still loves me. If I told you how I came to be with her you would not believe it.
\nAnyway, I have looked at where this aspect comes from, or at least where I first noticed it, and what I believe woke it up, and unsurprisingly it involves going back to my childhood. That will be my next post.

 

I believe this all stems from what happened when I was still inside my own naïve idea about what sex was and what it all meant.
\nI became aware of myself very early, and was looking to explore the idea of sex with anyone who would let me. My first pseudo-sexual encounters began around the age of 10. I was too young to really understand what sex was back then, but not to young to know what I was doing. It was all very innocent really, but I knew something wasn't right about it, as I always knew to keep it secret. But because I did it anyway, the price for ‘falling' into that, for taking advantage or manipulating things so I could explore it this way, taken further, could eventually turn a child into a paedophile.
\nI was never interested in other children, as they were always emotionally younger than me, but I was emotionally immature myself, so I just explored their naivety whenever it was possible. Sex, for the most part, was hidden from me as a kid, and a strong reaction formed as a result of this taboo.
\nI had no sex education. Came across no idea other than what my ignorant classmates revealed (no internet back then), but the images I saw in the magazines I found in my dad's wardrobe when I was still in single figures were what really set things off.
\nI have a feeling my aunt knew about my explorations with my cousin though, but if she did, she would have imagined it far worse than it actually was. I did eventually confess these things many years later, and so even if the family didn't know before this, they do now, or at least my parents do anyway (I don't know if they showed it to anyone else). They never said anything to me by way of surprise so maybe they already knew. Perhaps they were just shocked.
\nI always understood what I was doing, and knew the choices were always mine. Once I had no need to do it anymore, from that point on, never let myself do anything that might bring back those feelings. Years later, when I was an adult, when I had a couple of kids sitting on my lap as I read them stories, together with my own daughter, I was very careful to make sure nothing could ever happen. When one of them would move, and inadvertently put their weight where they shouldn't, I would quickly shift them. I knew that a paedophile probably gets created by someone who doesn't do that. Once someone realises he can experience sexual feelings by manipulating small children, he can easily fall into looking to do so whenever he can get away with it, and it doesn't take long before what he needs to do to keep it exciting means there's no going back. All depends on the choices he makes along the way.
\nBecause I was such an innocent kid, I did nothing more than exploration. Fortunately, back then, nothing was ever confronted or aired in public. I don't know how I would've handled it had they done so. I felt so embarrassed.
\nPart of revealing this, for me, was so that I never have to close myself off to who I am. The idea of confessing things that are ‘secret' is very cathartic. That's why catholics use the confessional. The idea is quite real, only it doesn't need any person to hear it. The act of confessing things honestly, sincerely, is all that's needed. Accepting that what I did wasn't right, even though I was a child myself, means that once I do so, the ‘wrong' lifts and I no longer have to suffer for it.
\nWhen people come for a hug now, now that I'm an adult, I always give it. But the idea of giving a hug never occurs to me. I never know when someone needs one, so never feel a need to give them one. I understand touching can have empathic qualities, but I rarely touch anyone, unless it's necessary or consentingly sexual. That's why I had so much trouble when I worked briefly as a carer for the elders, and tried to avoid bathroom things at all costs. I once had to give a wrinkly a bath! Aagh!
\nI did encounter a paedophile when I was a lot younger though. In the shower of my public swimming pool.
\nI was having a wash down when a man walked in naked. He stood right next to me with what to me seemed like a huge penis, or it certainly looked huge to my small head. I was almost at the same height as it.
\nI became fascinated with having this huge sexual organ right there, within easy reach as it were. I knew he was watching me watching it, and I felt so drawn to it that very slowly, I allowed the back of my hand to lightly brush against the tip. The moment I did that, whatever spell was on me broke, and I knew what was happening wasn't good. I quickly left the shower, hearing him call out as I did so - “don't go!”. But I'd already gone as fast as I could without running.
\nNobody knew the term ‘paedophile' back then, but the man was probably one. Nothing violent, just drawn to the innocence of children, the simplicity, and the feeling of control that it engendered. I knew I'd had a close call, but this was a public place after all, so there was only so much that could have happened. Besides, he might have been little more than a flasher anyway.
\nWhat is the point of flashing? I don't tend to hear much about it these days, but back in the day, the pervert in the park opening his coat and apparently causing much dismay, seemed more common. What was it achieving? A feeling of freedom? Shocking someone with a penis? They never seem to do anything other than just show and go. Perhaps the man in the shower had already shown and gone before, and this was his next step? Who knows what this was for him, but he couldn't have imagined finding someone there so mesmerised by his Todger that he actually did something by choice?
\nThe man had every right to be there, as people showered communally without their trunks on back then. Who showers with trunks on at home? Back then, there was one big shower area, so him being there was perfectly fine. He only stood near me, never touched me, shoved anything in my face, or even said anything to me. For the first time, I felt I had the power, the choice, and by feeling drawn in, I probably gave the man something he had only hoped might happen. For a moment he was completely accepted by me. I did try to make it seem like I touched him by accident, but who knows how subtle that was. He was standing inches from my face, and was definitely excited by the encounter. It may have been wrong on many levels, but if I hadn't wanted to touch him, I feel nothing ‘wrong' would've taken place. It was my decision. Should the man have been there ‘tempting' me like that? To any other child, the possibility might have had no meaning anyway.

 

Yet, none of it is me, because i am not that. I am this, talking now, telling you about what I told you. I am the one who sees himself more clearly than the other, sees what he is, what he can be. Yet, I love him, because he thinks it is what he wants, and in some ways, it is, other wise it wouldn't feel so good. But he knows it. Yet this one sees it, this one has no need for such physical things. There is no pleasure to be had from it.
 
He makes a choice. He says I can see this, do this, but only I have the power to make them happen. I see what they really mean, and it is easy for me to see beyond him.
 
who am i then?
 
I am the one that you wait for.
 
but i am already here
 
but did you know it?
 
did you accept it, believe it?
 
the old has to go to become
 
i have to know what i do is wrong
 
so i can know what i do is right
 
corrupted love was all it was
 
replacing one thing with another
 
an idea
 
so love was laways there?
 
and all is as it should be
 
i let it out he makes it clell

 

wow...had something Lew might very well recognise there....tears, laughing, sadness, nostalgia, as if letting go of things. not quite a full on weeping, but almost, still don't quite let that out, want to, know it cleanses, but feel almost indulgent to do so once i recognise why i feel it.
 
currently completely alone. everyone gone. in someone lese's world, have been for a while.
 
it's alright though. it feels ok. a present moment with grey light. things are as they are. it is a good day to feel that. the sabbath.

 

I bet they start to want to change you
even think they think they can
then because you decide to stay
Just the same as you felt you are
sonofabitch must be the reason
sonofabitch is what you are

 

 
Very true, although how they keep doing it I don't know. Once something is experienced, nothing is wanted more than a few times, before it's already passé.

 

To go that way, to play the game, only makes it easier to let it all go. But for them to want it, and keep wanting it the same way, says what about them exactly?

 

 
Good point. For me, some things can be repeated, but I wonder how many need different partners to keep it spicy?
 
Mental disorder it may be, but if it's what works, and it works in many ways for many people, then there are many with disorders out there, far more than we realise.

 

What is mentally healthy though?
 
Is corrupted thinking merely something others do not do? There cannot be one definition.

 

 
This is what I see. What seems to work one moment, no longer works the same way the next. Like increasing the dose of a drug, do you keep pushing the boundaries, making it dangerous, risky, or do you look at why you need to make it this way?

 

 
Never felt the recieving, never looked for it. Seems too masochistic, and I don't have a need. Giving pain must come in 2 flavours. Giving it to those who want it, and giving it to those who don't. Do some who start giving it to willing victims, move onto to the unwilling. If it's all about the way it feels, those who feel a need for more extreme acts, might always feel a need for more?