metaphysical700
04-30-2003, 06:24 PM
I brushed my teeth until my gums bled
When I was 12 or 13, I was in a co-op toilet cubicle. A particularly well-endowed man flowed his erect penis through (what I've come to find out was) the ‘glory hole’. I could not believe what was happening. I kept my breathing and movement noises as quiet as humanly possible, my heart beating so fast. The pressure in the room or my head seemed to intensify. Maybe like the feeling of a sauna or steam-room, but without the heat or moisture. I never will know if the man knew I was there or not. I think he did.
Surely someone else would have cried out? They would have screamed and ran away – NOT ME. I sat down, terrified but… somewhat aroused too. I wanted to touch it with my hands, I wanted to wrap my mouth around it. He stuck his smallest finger through the hole and rubbed it around the edge, I can’t fathom why exactly. I anticipated seeing him lower his face to let me see his eyes and this was what terrified me. That he would either realise I was there and be livid and break into the cubicle for surreptitiously observing. Who knows what would have happened.
I decide to make my exit. I hear the main entry to the bathroom, a small one at that, with space for only 3 or 4 people at most. Someone coughs as a way of displaying his presence I presume. Enough is enough. What followed is hazy, quite genius in the way it must have been executed because I escaped undetected. I think.
I open the door & I think there’s somebody standing at the sink. I’ll never know if it was him. I wanted to go back to the cubicle and damage him somehow. I walk out the main door as calmly as possible and think about what just happened. I decide it would be a good idea to run away. I run faster than anyone I’ve known. Olympians pale and eat my dust in my estimation. Faster than I’ve ever known, but it feels like nothing. I’m not at all tired, I’m going to fast to keep balance and almost fall over several times. I stop some distance away from home and pass a middle-aged woman pushing a pram or holding a toddler’s hand. I think I can run further but ‘why bother?(carrying on)’
When I come to the second road I need to pass, I consider throwing myself in front of a car that hasn’t entered my viewpoint yet. “What’s the point? (in carrying on(living))” I question, out-loud.
I sit down at the dinner table and I’ve no memory over than I eye my dad and for a few seconds, suspect that it was him. I realise I’m being paranoid.
So the next two or three weeks I approximate, I can't get it out of my mind. One moment stands out. During Biology, I think "he, maybe he didn't know I was there, maybe"
This maybe is perhaps what bugs me. If the guy knew I was there, I assume he would have seen me through the hole, he could have told I was somewhat pre-pubescent. What the fuck was going through his mind?
I have nothing but hate for paedophiles and molesters that do nothing to help themselves before it's too late. I'm not saying I was molested, I know somebody who was a long period of their lives and they'll never get over it entirely. I regularly fantasise of what I would have done if ever I saw him. Both are seperate tangents.
and today, I ask myself, what would I have done if it happened now rather than a few years ago? I’m really not sure.
Response will be hugely appreciated
When I was 12 or 13, I was in a co-op toilet cubicle. A particularly well-endowed man flowed his erect penis through (what I've come to find out was) the ‘glory hole’. I could not believe what was happening. I kept my breathing and movement noises as quiet as humanly possible, my heart beating so fast. The pressure in the room or my head seemed to intensify. Maybe like the feeling of a sauna or steam-room, but without the heat or moisture. I never will know if the man knew I was there or not. I think he did.
Surely someone else would have cried out? They would have screamed and ran away – NOT ME. I sat down, terrified but… somewhat aroused too. I wanted to touch it with my hands, I wanted to wrap my mouth around it. He stuck his smallest finger through the hole and rubbed it around the edge, I can’t fathom why exactly. I anticipated seeing him lower his face to let me see his eyes and this was what terrified me. That he would either realise I was there and be livid and break into the cubicle for surreptitiously observing. Who knows what would have happened.
I decide to make my exit. I hear the main entry to the bathroom, a small one at that, with space for only 3 or 4 people at most. Someone coughs as a way of displaying his presence I presume. Enough is enough. What followed is hazy, quite genius in the way it must have been executed because I escaped undetected. I think.
I open the door & I think there’s somebody standing at the sink. I’ll never know if it was him. I wanted to go back to the cubicle and damage him somehow. I walk out the main door as calmly as possible and think about what just happened. I decide it would be a good idea to run away. I run faster than anyone I’ve known. Olympians pale and eat my dust in my estimation. Faster than I’ve ever known, but it feels like nothing. I’m not at all tired, I’m going to fast to keep balance and almost fall over several times. I stop some distance away from home and pass a middle-aged woman pushing a pram or holding a toddler’s hand. I think I can run further but ‘why bother?(carrying on)’
When I come to the second road I need to pass, I consider throwing myself in front of a car that hasn’t entered my viewpoint yet. “What’s the point? (in carrying on(living))” I question, out-loud.
I sit down at the dinner table and I’ve no memory over than I eye my dad and for a few seconds, suspect that it was him. I realise I’m being paranoid.
So the next two or three weeks I approximate, I can't get it out of my mind. One moment stands out. During Biology, I think "he, maybe he didn't know I was there, maybe"
This maybe is perhaps what bugs me. If the guy knew I was there, I assume he would have seen me through the hole, he could have told I was somewhat pre-pubescent. What the fuck was going through his mind?
I have nothing but hate for paedophiles and molesters that do nothing to help themselves before it's too late. I'm not saying I was molested, I know somebody who was a long period of their lives and they'll never get over it entirely. I regularly fantasise of what I would have done if ever I saw him. Both are seperate tangents.
and today, I ask myself, what would I have done if it happened now rather than a few years ago? I’m really not sure.
Response will be hugely appreciated