life

Violence Through the Velvet Glove

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 – You are a unique woman, you are intelligent, beautiful, and magical. I have always wanted a son to inherit my business. I had bad luck before, my wife was mentally ill, extremely dysfunctional. And I have found you, you are sexy, smart, and we will start a family, – Dave’s voice was deadly cold and dispassionate.

 – You have a daughter, my dear.

 – I want a son, a family, you are the ideal candidate, why banter?

 There was something cruel about his seemingly nice and smiley demeanor. Something that kept raising red flags in my mind, but I could not figure out what exactly it was.

– I want you to join me this weekend, – he kept talking, detached, serious, and cold. The day was chilly. We were sitting outside a local diner where he took me for lunch. I was wrapping myself in a shawl trying to stay warm on that rainy afternoon. – I have a nice ranch in Colorado, you will like it. I will take care of all your expenses, I will buy you a flight, pay for your own rental vehicle, you will have your own room there, you will be happy I promise. – His voice was dull, his smile was artificially pleasant.

I was quiet and freezing; I needed a hug, but he was not making any attempts to move closer.

 – Vixen, everyone wants to marry me. You have no idea how lucky you are. I am worthy of your time.   

 – You should … – I suddenly lost my voice. Breathing in cold air triggered bad coughing. – You should love the person you want to marry otherwise starting a family makes no sense.

 – I know exactly what I want, I chose you, and I will pursue you. I know you much better than you can imagine. – He was mercilessly cold, and it was scary.  – I did not mean to upset you or be an ass, I am just being honest.

 – I am too hysterical, too psychotic, too anorexic, and too pedestrian for you. You should find a better fit, – my body was shivering, my mind was unable to focus, early signs of sinus infection got me anxiously irritated.

 – Stop telling me what I need, – metal voice, polite manners, and a smell of freshness from his polo shirt. He clearly used a high-quality laundry detergent.

 – I am panicky, I worry all the time, – I kept going talking with my hands, hurrying to express myself prior being cut off again

– This is what makes you so appealing to guys, Vixen, your panic attacks.

What do you mean? – I stiffened in astonishment, the shawl slid under the table exposing me entirely to the humid and windy afternoon.

 – You are very helpless and naïve when you panic. You open up quickly, you get horny, you give yourself to a man completely, you can be used in all different ways, and it is very hot. I love your panic attacks. – The wind was blowing harder, leaving goose bumps on my naked shoulders and clogging my ears. He was fascinated with my panic attacks, it was concerning, it did not sound right. – I have learned about you much more than you think. I know you date other guys Vixen, that’s fine until we commit to a relationship.

 – Did Heather tell you this? – the threat was here, close, knocking on my temples, causing heart palpitations and shivering down my spine.

 – I do not discuss the woman I chose for the marriage with a prostitute. Come on, you really think I am such a fool and do not know what is going on in your personal life? I always stay informed, otherwise I would not be who I am. I know you are feeling scared now, you are so cute.

He was right. I was scared. The smiley mask of a blue-eyed, sandy-blonde, and well-mannered guy fell off revealing the claws of a cold-blooded and cynically relentless stranger. It started raining again, cold drops on my skin and harsh wind in the ears caused excessive eye-tearing. I was getting sick.

 – So, I feel anxious, I panic, and you like it? – my voice was calm, but I emoted heavily through my gestures.

 – Stop twisting what I say. I will go slow, no rush, I understand that you need time to get used to me. I will work on your self-expression later. You should not be too emotional.

The person under the happy-polite-and-easy-going mask was smart and controlling, I was an open book, a toy to play, a pet to train. My head felt heavy, my throat was sore. I thanked him for lunch, gave him a hug, and hurried to the nearest grocery store for lemon and honey. I needed to treat my cold.

 

life

Affection, Luxury, and Disgust.

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Dave wanted me out again. His “you just need real love, the unconditional kind” melted my heart. He was right, I needed love, and after such words I was ready to give him as many chances as needed.

He gave me a call early on Saturday morning.  – Find a sitter for your son and head here. We will go on a boat, I will make you smile. Of course, I will pay for the sitter and for your gas, just stop by.

Heather was right, his house was big and beautiful – a block away from the Gulf of Mexico. Lovely boat dock, open living room with teak ceiling accents, huge lanai with the water view, private waterfront pool and spa.

–  Please take off your shoes, I do not want you to stain the carpets upstairs, – he kept smiling, I kept blushing. – We can go out fishing or stay at the pool, it’s up to you, – I shrugged my shoulders checking my iPhone for messages from my son’s sitter.

He carefully rubbed the sunscreen all over my back, his touch was gentle, his demeanor was polite, he felt like his house: clean, distant, and surreal. – I kept reaching out for my iPhone until he took it from my fingers. – Your son will be fine. You worry too much, my love. I need to work with you on getting you relaxed.

The water was crystal clear, I swam to the edge of the pool ready to work on my pull-ups when I felt Dave’s hands hugging me from behind. – You gotta relax Vixen, you are always on the go, that’s not good. I should teach you how to take things easy.

– Yes, but I would like to exercise

– Stop it, – he squeezed me tight to his body. Spooning with him in the water was fun, he smelt like lime and peppermint.

 – Why are you wearing your watch under the water?

 – It’s water-proof, can you finally relax and stop talking? – there was a slight irritation in his voice, I did not care, I glanced towards the Rolex on his wrist to check the time. I had an hour prior returning to my kid. – You are an interesting lady, I have difficulty figuring you out.

 – There is nothing to figure out, Dave.

– You are impatient, your mind is all over the place, you can’t focus

– Ok

– You can say something back if you like, we are talking now

– I have nothing to say.

– Your perception of the world is skewed, but you are sexy. I will need to teach you lots of things.

I was quiet, the water in the pool was refreshing, the whole outdoor living area looked rich and lovely. He started kissing me, I slightly responded trying to release his grip off my butt.

– Did I offend you? – he sounded upset as I got out of the pool and started looking around in search of a towel. My gaze dropped to the outside fireplace area, and I saw several empty liquor bottles. I froze, I shuddered. I have zero tolerance for alcohol. My passion for him vanished instantly, all I wanted was to leave and never come back

– Do you like hard liquor?

-I do, does it matter

-It is your house, do what you want, I really do not care

-My friends were here yesterday, we had a nice time, don’t be paranoid my dear, I only had 7 shots

– Ok, – Snobbism, criticism, condescending attitude, and now – drinking. The initially presented ideal picture of the well-mannered gentleman in a Tuscan villa collapsed entirely, I felt disgusted. He was watching me like a hungry dog as I was taking off the wet swimming suit. I needed to dry and get out of that place.

 – Would you like to go upstairs honey? I can go down on you, I am really good at it.

 – Maybe next time? – I sensed his horniness with my naked skin, but it meant nothing, it was the end of magic, my fascination with his wealth was gone.

 – I want you to stay, Vixen.

 – Why did you break up with your girlfriend, if you do not mind me asking?

 – Of course not, I am an open book. She got suicidal, drank too much liquor, took one of my guns, and attempted to shoot herself. She was nuts, an alcoholic, accused me of cheating, crazy, I am glad we broke up, now I can tame you. By the way, did I tell you I collect guns? We can go upstairs, and I will show you….

 – What do you mean by taming me?

– You are like a cat bouncy and frisky. It will take time to get you where you should be. You need discipline, I will help, I want you happy.

Alcohol, guns, suicidal ideation, and nagging attempts to adjust me to his needs. Fake sweetness, violence through the velvet glove. The house was no longer attractive. Heather has a poor taste for guys. I hurriedly got dressed and left regretting that I wasted the whole morning in that damn place rather than playing with my son

life, love

Intimacy and Trust

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– You make it very hard for me to love you Vixen, – there was something pathetic about the way Jim expressed himself.

– Don’t love me than

– You are hurting me

 – Break up and find someone else, – I was not the mood to start the drama that night. I was too tired.

 – When we make love I feel you, I touch your soul, and I love it. Don’t you understand?

 I never trusted him, which was the core reason for my ongoing break ups and inconsistency. My feelings were strong, but my trust was weak. He blamed me for being unable to orgasm since I could not entirely open up and enjoy. I could not cum, I did not trust.

There is no hope for us if you cannot trust me, Vixen –

 – Ok

He knew how to be expressively sweet when needed, with time I learned not to buy his dramatic demeanor, charisma, and loud sexuality.

Trust opens doors into the world of multiple orgasms, connection, love, and sincerity. I was unable to trust the one who kept forgetting the safe word during sex leaving bruises on my skin and accusing me of overreacting. I could not be totally submissive allowing him to control my body, my mind, and my soul and at the same time remain distant, scared, with the mind somewhere else.

Diving into submission letting someone to entirely dominate you requires trust. We were together for a while, but trust never emerged. I was scared of his influence and power, the fear kept me sexually aroused, but blocked me from getting anywhere in our relations. He was unable to feel my body and my mind, he only listened to himself and only saw what suited his needs. He saw me being entirely loyal, totally submissive, and worshiping him on my knees with the puppy eyes begging for intimacy. He took everything he could squeezing me like a lemon, and never gave me anything back. He simply did not hear my needs since the voice of his ego was too loud. I could not trust, I was unable to share, I shut down, I suffocated, I wanted out.

Trusting this world opens our eyes to the new opportunities, expands the reality, attracts new people and events into our life. Trust helps us communicate our wants and needs, inquire about something we do not know, and stop concluding the worst-case scenario. We no longer lock ourselves in the cage of our childhood fears and irrational phobias, the trust helps see that our demons are imaginary and are not even worthy of fighting with.

Trust in relationship allows to give in, to let the partner be as close as he wants, and to entirely vanish feeling his presence, his orgasm, his joy. I gotta feel safe to trust, with Jim it was not possible.

I am able to interact with this world allowing people and things into my life, but giving myself to Jim equals jumping under the moving train. I love my life too much to end it earlier than needed.

life

Fears, Panic, Anxiety, Coping

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Anxiety attacks feel like being entirely submerged underwater, unable to breathe, to see, to hear. Fear takes over everything, and the whole world shrinks as panic grows.

The mind keeps repeating “what if, what if, what if” freezing me with horror, taking me to the nightmare of being homeless and hungry over, and over, and over again.

 – What is your biggest fear? – I asked Heather the other day, she got pensive for a second and laughed nervously.

– What are your plans for this weekend? – she quickly shifted the subject, opening up and showing her real self was not something she was ready to do.

– Shopping.

 – I thought you will be with Dave.

I shook my head,There was something wrong about Dave, something fake. He kept smiling playing the role of a real gentlemen with chivalry and manners. “I am from Michigan, and I am a gentleman, Vixen”. At the same time, he was persistent about taking me to his car and bringing me to his place. “You will love it, it is nice and big and on the water”. His invitations were denied. I like big dicks and sincerity; big houses and fakeness do not impress me much.

Panic hit me in the face that morning. I had difficulty breathing and tried to drink some water to relieve tension. My throat shrank, as I was attempting to swallow. I crawled under the blanket; feeling the softness of the plush with both legs was comforting. I started stroking myself under the covers, watching the bluishness of the fish tank water. I wish I were like my tetras; eating, swimming, mating. Watching the fish was relaxing. I felt better. Another attempt of sipping water was more successful, I felt the refreshing coldness in my stomach and smiled. The fear of poverty and hunger got smaller. I was ready for pull-ups and shopping.

Jim kept texting until I block his number. I needed a new job, he wanted sex. I asked for help, he asked for the permission to stop by and f*ck. There was obviously no match between us.

Heather gave me a call later offering to go boating. Watching the sun and the water had always been the biggest healer. I eagerly accepted the invitation and threw a couple of apples in my purse for lunch prior leaving my apartment. Boats always balanced me out, healed my panics, gave me the reality check I needed. The brackish water was calm and greenish. We had to proceed slowly in order not to hit manatees, I kept waving to elderly couples in passing boats, watching lovely seafront villas. Air in the ears, water on my skin. The panic waned, I started smiling, back on the boat and happy again.

– You previously asked me about my fears, Vixen.

– Yes, – I stopped rubbing sun-screen on the shoulders and looked at Heather. Surprisingly, she remembered our recent conversation.

– I am afraid to get old.

I saw the fear in her eyes and gave her a hug. – You should be happy if you manage to die old my dear. Not everyone is that lucky. Plus, you have enough savings to enjoy your life once males stop providing for you. You will always have the lifestyle an average girl will never be able to afford.

– I know, – she giggled and nervously changed the conversation.

Our fears were similar in severity. She was scared to lose her beauty and her power over wealthy guys, I was scared to lose the roof over my head unable to feed my son. She coped with her panic through faking happiness, I welcomed my demons since running away from them made no sense. I neither hid from myself, nor fought with the inevitable. I observed the panic, listened to the crazy mind-talk knowing that sooner or later the anxiety will walk away, and I will be able to move on. It was my way of coping, and it helped.

My anxiety was gone, I slept good that night, and woke up rested the next morning.