If you can’t be anything else, at least be a useful body
It’s like this:
It’s summer and you try to act as if everything is fine. Some man walks up to you in the street because he could see the contours of your underwear under your skirt even though you weren’t aware of them showing, and you meet him, you meet other people. It’s warm, you have to walk for half an hour to be able to spot an empty place outside the bars and restaurants and after a long winter, everyone wants to enjoy life, everyone wants to cum inside someone, smoke cigarettes and take too many showers.
You meet them and they tell you that you’re beautiful, intelligent, that they can’t believe that you’re in their apartment, all those things that men tell you that you would very much want to believe about yourself, yet you’re not sure if it’s maybe something they’re just saying in order to get pussy that they would have gotten anyways.
They really wouldn’t need to make the effort. Being distant would work just as well, this subtle indication that you should probably just shut up instead of trying to say something that has meaning, no one is interested, quit these desperate efforts to try to convince yourself, and by extension those around you, that there is some piece within you that is worth something.
And you end up going for that instead, the men that just want you to be a body, something they can use to get off, that they can use to hurt, fuck in anyway they please, because you having any type of wishes of your own was never part of the point was it? The less you want it, the better. It gets more realistic that way, your limp body getting thrown onto the bed, the expression of agony on your face that is so convincing because you don’t even have to pretend, the cries of pain when they force themselves inside your dry cunt. You try to get away or at least avoid them getting so deep, it’s too painful, but they grab your hips and pull them into theirs, no one is denying them anything, and deep down, it feels right. It’s like a relief, small shards of peace in the midst of violence. You can be completely empty, it doesn’t matter, there is nothing to live up to, no risk of failure because no one expected anything from you anyway. The chaotic emotions, the despair, the panic, everything that you don’t know how to handle, they’re going to beat it out of you, don’t worry. You feel their cock pumping inside of you, their hand around your neck and somehow, it all feels complete.
Then they leave. They leave and you keep lying in bed, incapable of turning around, incapable of getting up. Your phone is buzzing next to you but you don’t look at it. You wonder how long you can keep doing it.
You always come back.