“Hello, is there anybody in there?”
I let out a muffled giggle at the desperate pleas from whoever it was that wanted to use the toilet for its actual intended use.
Inside was myself and some guy, my lips round his hard cock. His arousal clearly increased by the various partygoers that went to and fro out of the toilet.
He put his fingers up to his lips before throwing his head back as I purposely sucked him harder, trying to make him moan loud so he could be heard by those outside.
I didn’t know, or more to the point didn’t care what his name was. We had met only a short time beforehand at the bar. One drink later and we were in the cubicle with my mouth round his penis.
That’s how it was now. That’s how it had been since the revelation of the sex tape being posted online.
I had grown to like the numbness that had washed over me. At first I had been frightened by it but whenever I tried to fight it my brain would give me a preview of what shameful pain I would have to endure if I wasn’t numb.
I therefore embraced it but it came at a price. I simply did not care. I had lost interest in everything, whether it be my friends, family, work. I just went through the motions and even struggled with that. When people were talking to me their words would be lost in the fog of my mind. All I did was react to the expressions or during awkward pauses just smiled and nod.
It had become impossible for me to engage fully in conversations. I was spending enough energy just to keep the darkness that swirled in my mind from consuming me fully. When I let my guard down the numbness would be overtaken by the storm clouds of shame that gleefully welcomed the opportunity to roar inside my head once more.
I tried to counter the storm, firstly with alcohol but any moments of peace that brought were quickly interrupted by the inescapable feeling of shame. If I tried to drink more, rather than quell these feelings it exacerbated them, increasing the ferocity of the roar of the angry clouds.
With an inebriated mind coupled with the paralysis of shame any chance of rational thought had gone. Whenever I was in a bar and some guy would try hitting on me the storm clouds would rush to my ear and whisper reminders of what a slut I really was.
So I begun to have a lot of sexual liaisons. A lot. If a guy showed me the slightest bit of attention there was a very good chance I would perform some act of sexual gratification for him. I never experienced true sexual pleasure from what I was doing, instead it provided me with something more important it restored the numbness.
Whether it would be on my knees with a guy in my mouth or have them banging away behind me the storm clouds would slowly dissipate. I never truly orgasmed but in its place was a greater release, numbness would spread through my body, coating my mind in a protective layer.
Whenever I sensed it would be wearing off, that the storm clouds would be seeping through the cracks on its journey to occupy my thoughts, I would seek out a new sexual partner and become numb again.
These men became like a drug to me and performing those acts upon them was a compulsion. In rare moments of clarity, when the numbness was gone but the storm clouds had yet to appear, I knew I was broken. I knew I was damaged.
However before I could make that desperate cry for help I would be once more consumed with the storm, the darkness silencing my pleas. All I could do was seek out the only route to that now blissful feeling of nothingness.
I was alone. By this time I had virtually pushed away anyone who cared about me, opting instead for this solo life of seedy liaisons with complete strangers.
If my friends asked if I was okay I would shut the conversation down with some bullshit about work being stressful before promptly leaving to seek out another sexual partner.
The guys who were the recipients of my compulsion did not care. They never looked me properly in the eyes otherwise they would have seen my vacant expression as if I had eyes painted on like a toy. After all that was all I was to them – a toy.
I had been once new, mint in the box but now I was being used by whoever and then passed on to the next excitable owner. Some knew how to treat such a precious item and would be tender others had no such care and was only interested in the durability of their new plaything.
This toy came with different settings – Slutty or Kinky – just flip the switch to the mode you want. Some guys would forget to switch me off ‘Demo’ and excited by what this toy could do would be unable to try out the other modes.
There was another setting, although it was never used – Normal. No guy ever seemed interested in using that one. Deep down, past the numbness and through the swirling storm clouds, I so desperately wanted someone to switch me to Normal.
The darkness had also begun to invade my dreams. Those moments of blissful slumber used to be my solitude; the previously translucent room in my mind was now awash with blackness as if someone had taken a pot of paint and thrown it everywhere. Thick globs of darkness slid down the once brilliant walls. Out of this black sludge arms would suddenly come stretching out, grabbing, clawing, tearing at my clothes as I tried desperately to escape this once tranquil palace.
Bruised and cut I would fall to my knees and in the darkness that suffocated me I would see Him. He hovered above, this cruel faceless behemoth. I knew only this of Him – he would be my destruction, my one final liaison that I never truly returned from.
He stalked over me, teasing his potential arrival into my real life. Brushing a dark, bony finger over my face, his skin feeling clammy against mine. Then he is gone and I am left alone in the darkness of my mind. I put my hand up to where he touched and I can feel the cold, stinging wetness of where he cut me. A reminder of what awaits down this path.
A path in which there was no light at the end. The only way forward is through the hands that reach out and grope me. Are they trying to hold me back from meeting the lustful leviathan that waits at the end? Or do they all want a piece of me before He finishes me off?
“Can you stand up?”
I looked up and saw the guy I had only moments ago had in my mouth offering me his hand. He was not looking at me, rather the mess he had left on the floor of the cubicle.
“Sorry” he mumbled “I guess I got a little too excited”
I had not intended to simply suck someone off in a cubicle. I should have been welcoming every hard thrust from behind me, grateful that the storm clouds were vanishing.
Instead I was left unsatisfied and the storm mocked my failure. Without saying a word I left the cubicle. I could barely hear the guy mumbling about trying again in a few minutes.
I knew I would have to find someone else but I hated this desperate urge to have sex. It made me more irrational, more likely to take risks and made the possibility of finding Him to become more real.
Perhaps the quick blowjob had at least allowed some light to shine through the storm. A brief notion that I may find that person who would switch me back to Normal briefly occupied my thoughts. No sooner I had I thought it I was dismissing the idea as foolish. No guy had ever switched me to that setting.
Maybe I am being unfair. Maybe some of the guys I had slept with had tried. Perhaps it was I who wanted to stay on that path through the darkness, to continue my descent until I met Him. I desired to put a face to the phantom, to introduce myself to the nameless, to submit myself to the ultimate feeling of nothingness. Maybe it was about time I shook hands with the Devil.
“Oh I’m dreadfully sorry”
I had been so preoccupied that I had not immediately noticed someone bumping into me. Some of their drink spilt on my dress mixing with some of the other, more questionable stains.
The owner of the drink was quick to offer his apologies.
“Sorry…. Please let me get you something to dry yourself and I must insist on buying you a drink” he said.
I followed him to the bar and he turned to me, extending his hand “I’m Keith by the way”.
“Lina” I replied
Following the descent it’s time to meet Keith