How Sexual abuse made me a submissive.

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How my experience with sexual abuse turned me into a Submissive.

So over the last few years i have done a lot of thinking about what has shaped my sexual preferences. A lot of questions have rolled around my head.

”why am i like this?”

”what made me like this?”

”Am i normal?”

Having been groomed and sexually abused when i was 16. I had wondered how much this may have affected me. I never really thought it had shaped me much. In fact i have tried for years to not think about it. How can something you never think about affect you?

This will be the very first time i have ever written about my experience, to say i am a little nervous would be an understatement. However after researching some of my experiences, i have found others who have went through a similar ordeal, just reading their accounts helped me a lot. So i write this today with people like me in mind. Maybe sharing my story could help you relate or at least give you some reassurance that you are completely normal.

So when i was 16 years old, my parents disowned me. Not because i was some sort of delinquent, they where just incapable of being good parents. Nothing i’m going to go into too much detail about just now. Anyway, i was living in a supported accommodation flat when i met my (Master). Little did i know, that was what he would become. He was 28 years old. The most beautiful human i had ever seen. Tall and Dark, very fit and muscular,  he was my dream guy.

Our first encounter was brief, I would have said, it was me that was doing the chasing not him. He told me i was way too young for him just a child.  Our second encounter was a little different, he suddenly changed his mind and now i was firmly on his radar. He made arrangements to meet up with me that very night, and we had sex outside behind a container unit. After that things moved very quickly and he moved in with me. He was such a great guy, treated me like a princess. To call him a gentleman would be too little a compliment for this guy. He was loving and caring. Within just a few days of dating, he had told me he loved me and was already living with me. I thought this guy clearly loves me very much.

Now looking back i was so desperate for someone to love me, for someone to want to look after me. He was a lot older and wiser, strong and capable. All these things made me feel safe. I felt like the world couldnt hurt me anymore. He wouldnt let anyone. He was a replacement for my parents.

Anyway in the first few weeks he was perfect. It wasn’t until after the third week things took a bit of a turn for the worst. Obviously being just 16 my sexual experience was limited compared to his. He was very confident, he would tell me what to do, say he was going to teach me how to be good at it.

Little things started to creep in, When i went out for shopping, he would tell me what to buy, get angry when i didn’t agree. Before we went out he would check what i was wearing, and ask me to change if he felt it was inappropriate in some way. He was a chef so he cooked my meals, he quit his job a few weeks into our relationship, saying that he wanted to spend more time with me and that his work was getting in the way. Little things like that would pop up more and more with everyday. Sex became a lot more passionate, we got a lot more experimental. I was now basically an expert  in the kama sutra positions. Everytime we had sex i learned something new. At this point we were having sexual relations around 7-8 times per day.

 

One night when sleeping in bed, i woke up to him punching me in the back. I remember getting such a fright. He seemed to be sound asleep, okay so maybe he was just having a bad dream poor guy. I tried to move over a little, but the punches kept coming. I didnt want to wake him so decided to go sleep on the sofa. I had just got all tucked in when it happened. The living room door flew open, He was standing there, rage in his eyes, he looked so different not kind and caring anymore. He screamed at me for leaving the bed. I tried to explain to him what at happened but it was pointless. He beat me then and there for the first time. I was so confused and hurt. Afterwards he cried, he cuddled me and told me how sorry he was, how he didnt mean to hit me. He told me a sad story about his childhood, how he had to watch his mum be abused, how it now made him have bad dreams. I believed every word, how could i not?  he was so visibly hurt by what he had just done.

After this the beating became a regular thing, i was getting a beating every time i done something he didn’t like. They didnt have to be big things. Maybe i had used too much milk in my tea, or maybe i looked at someone in the wrong way. If he told me to do something and i didn’t do it right away. Always the crying and the apologies afterwards. I soon got used to it. I just had to do what he wanted as soon as he asked, not have eye contact with anyone but him.

Over the space of another few weeks, things got so bad i wasnt even allowed to go outside anymore. I would try to think up lots of excused to go out,  he would discard them all. On the rare occasion we did need something, he would lock me in the flat so he could go alone. No one was allowed to visit, not even friends.

The beatings would be followed up by violent sex, burning, spitting, caneing, biting, humiliation, bondage and electrocution. If not all of the time most of the time it was rape. He dressed me, feed me, hell he even wiped my ass after i went to the toilet. I was not allowed to touch myself in anyway.

 

When he told me to do something i did it without question. Sometimes when he went out and locked me in( i should mention my flat was on the fourth floor)He would tie me up naked and leave me like that until he returned. Or he would tell me to get naked and kneel at the door and wait his return. I was to speak when i was spoken too.

 

I loved him more than anything else in the world. He was my protector my strength. No one could have told me differently, if they did i wouldnt have listened they wouldn’t understand. In total he managed to keep me locked up long enough to completely turn me into a SUB. Not that i even knew what that was then.

There became a point when, i knew this wasn’t right that i needed to get away. He had tried to push me out a window, and had threatened me with knifes. Every sexual encounter was more and more horrific. I would do whatever he said, i avoided beatings at all costs. I hated every second of it. I would imagine i was somewhere else, or that i really did like it.

Eventually i managed to get him to a point of trust. I asked him politely if i could possibly have a friend over. Luckily he agreed, once my friend was around i told her what was going on and she managed to get help on her phone. My ordeal was over or so i thought.  A few weeks later i found out i was pregnant with my first child, his child. Yes my rape child. Not to go into it too much but i did go on to have a beautiful daughter who i love with all my heart. She is the one good thing to come from it all. She was going to be my child not his. I would make sure she never turned out like her father.

Now onto present day and my soul searching, I have always been a very kinky person. I always liked it rough. The rougher the better. Normal vanilla sex just didn’t do it for me. I could never climax with any partner i had. When i had to take on the role of Dominant i just didnt get a buzz. I had a lot of sexual partners after my abuse. Down to the fact i didnt have any respect for myself, i would sleep around. I think i was looking for a DOM type sexual relationship but just didn’t know it.

I had a lot of sexual fantasies about being tied up and bossed around, one main fantasy was always gang rape. The fantasy terrified me, made me feel weird. Why would anyone actually fantasize about being raped. I struggled for years with this. I didn’t dare tell my now husband or anyone else about it. I was so ashamed. After looking into this, i have found this is very common amongst people who have been abused. Its a completely natural thing. Im not ever going to act out this fantasy but it doesnt stop me getting turned on at the thought.

When me and my husband got together 13 years ago, he was a bit of a sexual novice. He was miles opposite from a DOM. I loved him very much and the sex was good but i wasn’t really being pleasured the way i needed.  After years and years of marriage the subject did come up. I explained to him that i liked to be submissive and that i wanted him to take control. Slowly he became more and more dominant. Today he has 24/7 total power control sexually. I finally get to be the SUB and in a really safe and loving way. My orgasims are much stronger and i climax much more often during our play. I love the loss of control, it’s a sure way to make me cum.

I dont do anything that i am uncomfortable with. There are certain things that have not crossed over into my new DOM/SUB relations. Things that i would find too traumatizing should we attempt them. I do think that this sexual abuse has created the SUB in me. I am happy that i have found a way to accept this. To embrace my inner SUB. I have come to realize that it doesnt matter why i am a SUB, just that i enjoy it in a safe way.  My husband now loves his DOM role, he gets as turned on as much as me, You could say my experience has helped bring out his inner DOM.

Sexual abuse has definitely been the deciding factor in my submission. I feel that i have been able to accept this and still enjoy it. I have given myself permission to like it, given permission to allow my thoughts to turn me on.

I am a kinky submissive and i’m not ashamed.

 

Thank for reading

 

 

I am not an expert, always seek professional help where applicable. The opinions on this post are my own, this post has been written from my personal experience or knowledge. I do not take any responsibility if my advice or the products I recommend don’t work for you. Everyone is different therefore it is impossible for me to know if the product or advice I give will suit your needs. These are just my personal experiences and accounts, and are intended to be used only as a reference.

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