I've written about being "shared" with another, more psychotic I suppose, man when I was being abused by my guidance counselor. I was done with that, although it was another layer of wretchedness about the whole thing.
I thought I was done, but I had a nightmare about it. How this guy thought it was all a game. About how he felt the need to dominate, humiliate, and terrify a child. Worse of all was thinking how my guidance counselor, the man who "loved" me, handed me over to this idiot and merely watched, even TAKING PICTURES, while I was tied up and being raped and threatened every which way.
I begged him to help me, and he was just watching. Watching and getting off on it. Maybe he thought I was getting off on it. Hell, maybe on some level I was, but I was a CHILD and I didn't know what he was going to do with me. I didn't even know if he was going to kill me or not.
And they tried to buy me off with money. With THINGS! Fuck, I was 12 years old and they tried to turn me into a WHORE!
I pray these animals paid in some way.
Every time I think it can't hurt any more, it hurts. It hurts more some days more than others.
Fuck 'em both.