Touched By A Stranger
It’s now Saturday night. Something happened. I feel embarrassed writing about it, but at the same time I’m not. There was a big push in the cult to teach us that there is no shame. At least that’s what I am telling myself so I feel like I walked away from that with something beneficial. Yet, the uniqueness of this event still triggers some automated defense mechanisms that keep me from stepping over normal social boundaries.
I went out for a walk. I bought a beer and let things fly to the wind. By chance, I started talking to someone named Kola on Grindr. This was close to downtown, so he came out and started walking with me. We started talking, meaning he mostly talked and I mostly listened, piping in from time to time. I felt awkward the entire stroll down Salina Street, feeling like dead weight as I usually do. It did not help that he talked about being raised by meth heads in the Aryan Brotherhood, and that he had been part of the child sex trade growing up.
Then he touched me. Just reached over with no warning and grabbed my junk. It was a surprise, but I liked it. I wanted him to do it, and more. It was exhilarating to have this random person just ignore any normal boundaries and grab my crotch. The unexpectedness, combined with a hint of anxiety and uncertainty made the experience thrilling. I have a molestation fetish and having someone ignore social boundaries like this was exactly what I was looking for.
But I did not know how to reciprocate, or let him know that I liked it other than telling him outright. If things went how I wanted them in the moment, he would keep violating me. Part of me was hoping that he had some idea of where we could go so I could rag doll and let him do whatever he wanted.
That never happened. Eventually, we sat on some benches and he proceeded to touch me more, but I could tell he felt awkward because I was so weird. I did not know what to do. The idea of doing things in public intrigues me, but at the same time, there’s so many layers of inhibitions that kept me frozen in place. Additionally, I am very concerned about the boundaries of others, and the idea of triggering someone or exposing someone to something they did not consent to lingered on my mind.
I wound up touching him as well. Through his jeans, I could feel his penis as it started growing down his leg. I really liked it, but nothing came of it. As soon as I started, a man walked by and asked for a light. It kinda broke any mood that existed. Afterwards, I told him I enjoyed it but it did not feel right. I felt retarded. Who wants to be friends, let alone be sexual with someone who can barely emulate basic human functions?
I got back to my friends’ late. I called Lawrence to let me in, but he apparently already went to bed. I then called Sean who let me in the front door without any problem. He asked where I had been, telling me that they went upstairs to smoke, but could not find me. I only told him that I went on a walk.
I wanted to tell him. Hell, I was bursting at the seams to let the world know that something had happened to me. And I could not bring myself to say anything. I’m still locked in place with a mountain of inhibitions. I don’t even fear what Sean or any of my friends would think, I just could not bring myself to talk about it. There were no words, and if I tried explaining, I know I would say it in the worst possible way.
I am going to bed feeling a mixture of success and defeat. I had done something to push my boundaries, but I was still a failure. It certainly was not the ideal experience to grow from, but it was something to overwrite the mountain of inhibitions that is preventing me from radiating my authentic self out into the world.
Hey, this is a journal entry from a project I am really enjoying so far. It's allowing me to write about my life as I discover myself, and reflect on the past while I do so. I want to turn this into a book. I really appreciate any support, in whatever form it takes. Thank you for taking the time to let me share this piece of myself with you.