Page 4 of Carnal Desire
I rub my hand roughly down my face. I’m absolutely irritated with my life. I have a great career, wealth, some of the best friends in the entire world, but something is missing in my life. And I know exactly what it is.
S.E.X.
Dirty, nasty, sex. I want someone to fuck my brains out. Not just a one nightstand either. Someone I can call up anytime I want good dick. I want to be disciplined when I do something wrong. I want to be praised when I do something right. I want to be worshipped for the woman that I am. And I can’t have that until I get past the past.
We’re sitting on her couch in her home with a glass of expensive Merlot, a charcuterie board full of delicious cheeses, meats, fruits, and depressing RnB songs playing in the background. The only thing that can make this day any more depressing is if she hands me a pint of ice cream that no doubt will land at my ass.
She understands why I’m in this dark place. It’s no secret how these past few years have defined my current situation. Now I’m just tired of being stuck. I want to move forward in life. Not be stuck in the past.
I was assaulted by someone I trusted. Someone I thought was a friend and a partner. Someone I thought loved me and had been my Dom for more than five years. Not only did that brutal assault affect my personal life but also my professional. The physical scars from the blade he used to mar my flesh have healed but not the scars he left seared across my mind.
After all this time the weight of a man on top of me still freaks me the hell out. Panic attacks assault me if a man grips me by the wrists. I break out into sweats. My chest tightens to the point I can’t breathe and my body trembles in fear. And I’m instantly transported back to the day in my personal playroom when everything in my life changed. When I became the shell of the person that’s sitting here today. That would send any man running for the hills, but I can’t control the thoughts of my mind no matter how hard I try.
It’s been way too long since I’ve been able to enjoy the touch of a man. As someone who use to love sex, this new aspect of my life has been devastating. The sadness of what happened to me has passed. It took a while to get over it, but now I’m just pissed at myself. Pissed that I’ve let some psycho have so much control over my life. It’s exactly what he wants and I’m letting him win. How do I know that’s what he wants? Because the motherfucker told me while he was slashing my skin, that he wanted me to remember him every time I’m with another man. Every time I look in the mirror, he wants me to remember I belong to him. And that’s exactly what happens. Regardless, that he’s locked away, his presence still remains with me like the fucking boogeyman hiding under my bed or in my closet.
It’s been literally two years since I’ve slept with anyone. Two fucking years and to tell the truth I’m so fucking over it. I’m so fucking done with not being able to enjoy myself like I used too because of some prick. Don’t get me wrong, masturbation is glorious. Every woman should learn how to make themselves come, but I’ve done enough of it to last a lifetime. I want to feel a man’s cock inside me, not a vibrator.
“Give yourself a little grace, Cadence. You’ve been through a lot.”
I have been through a lot. I’m not denying it because I live with the scars every day. It was a very traumatic experience. I know my fear has a lot to do with my mental health, but can’t I be pissed at myself for letting that piece of shit win? He’s got power over me that he doesn’t have the right to have because I’m giving it to him. Initially he took it but now I’m the one who continues to allow him space in my mind. Allowing him to keep me from being me.
“But I don’t want him to have that much power over me anymore, Laila.” I sigh. “I want to feel again. I want to feel like me again. Even with my patients before all this shit happened, I gave them advice on how to remedy certain hangups about sex after traumatic events. If I can’t practice what I preach, what kind of doctor does that make me? Am I even qualified to be in this field anymore? Therapy isn’t even helping me.”
She scoots closer to me and wraps her arms around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. “You’re too hard on yourself, sweetie. It’s fear that’s keeping you from moving forward, but when it’s time you’ll know it. It’s just going to take time and the right person to guide you through it.”
“Two damn years is long enough, Laila.”
“But is it really?” she asks. “Sometimes trauma remains with you for a lifetime, Cadence. Two years to your mind might not be long enough to deal with what you’ve been through. Do you still fear the same things?”
“I do fear the same things, but I want what he did to me to become empowering and not be crippling. And at this point, it’s ruining everything. I’m missing out on a very big and fulfilling part of my life. All because some asshole.”
She lets me go, and grabs the wine from the table, then tops off my glass. “Have you thought about coming back to the club?”
She places the bottle of wine back on the glass coffee table and looks at me waiting for my answer.
At one time Club Desire had been my escape from the realities of life. An escape I desperately needed mainly because of work. Listening to people’s problems every day weighs me down at times. I needed an escape because dealing with my own problems and others got to be overwhelming at times. Now I can’t step foot in the place without having a full-blown panic attack.
I’ve been a part of the lifestyle for over a decade. I’ve enjoyed spending my time there just to release the pent-up stresses of ordinary life. Then he changed everything, and now I can’t enjoy it any longer. Even though my assault didn’t take place at Club Desire, stepping back into the building brings back memories of him on top of me. Him using his knife on me even when I used my safe word. Nothing was safe with him and if I wasn’t safe with him, how can I be safe with a complete stranger especially in that atmosphere.
We met in high school, but lost contact when we both went our separate ways after graduation. I went to college on the West Coast, and he went to college down South. Then we reconnected at a mutual friend’s wedding. And it was like it was meant to be. We just clicked. We both enjoyed the same things, including BDSM, something I was introduced to in college. We became really close friends, then lovers. I thought he was a safe place for me to enjoy playtime. I gave him all of me, but most of all I gave him my trust. Then he destroyed it all like what I gave him wasn’t a gift. Like my trust, my body, and my heart were just trash.
My heart and body recovered quickly from the dreadful experience. However, my trust so far has been a lost cause.
“Maybe if you found the right Dom, he can help you navigate some of your issues,” Laila says.
“In a normal world that would be great. I just don’t know if I can take that step. In order to find a Dom, I’d have to trust them. And I’m not sure a Dom would be willing to deal with what I’m going through. That’s going to take a lot of time and a lot of patience.”
It’s too much for me to handle at times I can’t imagine expecting someone else to deal with my issues too.
“Well, that’s one of the most important characteristics of a good Dom, Cadence. How long has it been since you went back to the club? Do you feel safe there?”
The issue isn’t Club Desire. I’ve always been treated with respect there. Everyone follows the rules. It’s the idea that the same thing can happen to me no matter where I’m at even if I use my safe word. Fear of the unknown is what’s stopping me.
“I absolutely feel safe there. It’s not the place, it’s because I don’t think I can give my trust to anyone in that way again. My safe word should have protected me, and it didn’t do shit. What if the next person I’m with does the same thing?”
“While I understand your fear, that’s highly unlikely, Cadence. Christian is a psycho, and he hid who he is from everyone even Elijah and you know how he is.”
“Fear is an irrational feeling most of the time, Laila. And even if that’s the case, I can’t just shake it off and jump feet first back into the life no matter how much I’d love too.”
