ladies: describe your experiences of body betrayal orgasm
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Poast new message in this thread
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Date: April 29th, 2012 10:06 AM Author: adulterous new version
"There was one, one time, that my body betrayed me. I was raped by a coworker. Someone I had NO attraction to, and was actually kind of repulsed by. During the rape, even though I was SCREAMING and he was beating me, my body made itself wet. He was so well endowed, and so VIOLENT, that I had severe tearing and bleeding. In the middle of all of this my body made the ultimate betrayal. I had an orgasm. I almost feel like it was my fault now, though I cant think of any reason for it to be. I just don’t understand and I finally feel ready to tell someone and ask for advice. Why would my body do this? Is this still rape? Ugh, Idk why I’m even asking, I know it is. I just keep second guessing myself about this attack… Please give me some input!!! "
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#20572874) |
Date: April 29th, 2012 10:27 AM Author: Sickened business firm
I remember reading this victim site once, talking about orgasm during forcible rape.
There was this lady that had never once had an orgasm with her husband. She was raped one day in her kitchen by a neighbordhood teenager. The force and violence of the encounter gave her the most earth-shattering orgasm of her life.
She told her husband about this. She was posting on the victim site because she couldn't understand why this upset him so much, and wanted to know if it was wrong to tell her husband that she had her first vaginal orgasm in 20 years while being forcibly raped.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#20572916) |
Date: April 29th, 2012 10:43 AM Author: dun theatre
how fucked up is it that reading this shit gives me a semi?
maybe this is what women who watch natgeo feel like (aside from the vigorous manual clitoral stimulation)
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#20572944) |
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Date: April 29th, 2012 10:53 AM Author: Lime blood rage
You could say that my inner sexual life still revolves around
the rape I told you about.
I don’t think a day goes by without my
remembering it.
I was in this little house, where I was living
alone before I met Charles.
A man came in.
He wasn’t Mexican;
I don’t know what he was.
He pretended that he was interested in
selling me something, but I knew something was wrong.
He
asked if I was alone, but in such a smooth, easy way that he
didn’t frighten me.
But maybe something in me was frightened.
Because I almost knew before he did it what he was going to do
next.
He took a knife out with the same easy manner with which
he had asked me if we were alone.
He put the knife on the table,
near his hand.
Then he told me what he was going to do.
He told
me that he wasn’t a pervert, and that if I did everything he said,
he would not harm me.
He even told me I would enjoy it.
All the
time he was talking, I could see the front of his trousers begin to
bulge.
I couldn’t look him in the eyes.
I kept my eyes down.
He
may have thought I was staring at the ground.
I was watching
that huge mound in the front of his trousers.
I remember thinking
what a cruel, powerful bulge it made.
He told me to take off my clothes.
I did, with one eye on my
buttons, the other on the knife that was so close to his hand.
Then, when I was naked, he told me to unzip his trousers.
I did.
"Take it out," he said, "and kiss it.
" I did.
I didn’t understand what I was doing.
It all seemed so natural,
it almost seemed as if I was in a hurry to help him.
I did
everything he told me.
Then he told me to lie down on my back,
on my work table, but with my feet on the floor.
While I did it, he
picked up the knife, and came to stand between my legs.
"Spread
them wider," he said, and as I did, he stepped between them even
closer to me, and suddenly raising the knife above his head,
plunged it point first into the table, right beside my hips.
Then he
knelt down in front of me, his two arms on either side of me, one
hand still holding the knife that was stuck into the table, and he
went down on me.
I tried to think of how terrified I was, how
much I hated him.
But I felt myself becoming more and more
excited.
I closed my eyes and tried to turn from side to side, as if
trying to get away from his tongue, but it was also to have that
tongue touch different sides of me, inside.
Once I opened my
eyes.
All I could see was the dark top of his head, his hair, and
the hand holding the knife just beside me.
Then I closed my eyes
again, and I suddenly couldn’t help it, I pulled his head right into
me, pulled his tongue right into me as high as possible, and then
I came, over and over again.
The next thing I saw was his face.
He was smiling.
He was on
top of me, still on the table.
He was on me.
"Put it in," he said,
and I was now eager to do anything he said.
With one hand I
held the lips open, with the other I guided his erection right into
me.
I remember he wasn’t very big around, but very long and
slim.
I wanted to feel it all the way inside me.
In just a few
thrusts I could feel him coming, and I came again, too.
I had
forgotten to think about how much I hated him.
I could only think
of his long thing, long and slim, all the way up and lost inside
me, and I came and came again.
Then the man just went away:
Just as he had promised.
I told my husband about what had happened before we were
married, but I never told him how it made me feel.
The time
when this happened, I was going with a Mexican boy, and there was another man before I met Charles.
Neither one had ever
made me feel so sexually in heat the way that man did when he
raped me.
Neither has Charles.
It’s no good when I’m in bed
with Charles, telling myself that I love him, and that I hate that
other strange man.
It just kills whatever erotic feelings I have.
Other times, Charles can bring me to the point himself, and I
don’t have to think about that other man.
But sometimes when I’m not really in the mood, and I know
Charles is… or that funny kind of way that a really erotic mood
will overtake you and then just drift away for no reason at
all…that’s when I deliberately think of that man.
I close my eyes
and imagine myself back on that table, with my legs hanging
down from the knees over the edge, and him in between them.
I
remember how, much I hated him, and the, I don’t know, the
fear, the frenzy of the experience, and how I responded to it.
Whenever I imagine that, I still respond the same way.
Every
time.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#20572984)
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Date: January 12th, 2013 1:58 AM Author: iridescent floppy mediation
"I was raped by probably both men and women the whole my presence in the different foster houses until I was adopted at the age of 9 and a half. By that time I reached my early puberty and unfortunately I did want sexual contact even though I hated myself. I became a “bad girl”. In addition to this, later rapes in my 20s completely screwed up my marriage life because of experiencing very strong orgasms that I never could achieve with my husband whom I love more than anything else in my life…"
-Faith
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#22416304) |
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Date: January 12th, 2013 3:00 AM Author: 180 voyeur
" It was true that I would voluntarily sleep in his bed when mom was gone. It was true that I would shower with him when I was a young teen just to be touched."
She was obviously asking for it
and this other one,
"later rapes in my 20s completely screwed up my marriage life"
She had multiple rapes in her 20s? was she living in a frat house or something?
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#22416451) |
Date: January 24th, 2013 12:55 PM Author: navy regret death wish
I used to hook up with this girl in college who told me about an experience like this.
She was in 8th or 9th grade and sleeping over at a friends and the friend's older brother got a little frisky with her.
basically, he tried to rape her but failed miserably when he couldn't get it in b/c she was moving around too much (he came on her stomach).
this girl was really upset b/c he'd manage to "get fingers in her" beforehand and she was really upset that she'd gotten wet enough for him to be able to finger her.
I listened and tried my best to provide solace and look concerned as I moved a throw pillow over to hide my raging erection.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#22494544)
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Date: January 24th, 2013 1:15 PM Author: motley cream stage
No, daddy, no?
More like Oh, daddy, oh!
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#22494637) |
Date: June 17th, 2013 5:13 AM Author: beady-eyed very tactful spot becky
" It was true that I would voluntarily sleep in his bed when mom was gone. "
HAWT
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1935818&forum_id=2#23413391) |
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