Seems to be a trend of me venting the very worst, darkest parts of my mind the last few days - in the hopes of trying to expose and weaken the issues so they can no longer hurt me. I have gone over this with my T.
My wife and I got pregnant with our 2nd in fall 2011. We already had a boy and she really really really (X100) wanted a girl. Wanted one so bad she was willing to take both of us way out comfort zones into something abnormal for a marriage.
She believed every silly wives tale about how to make a girl. Supplements. Positions. Timing. But very very unfortunately she also believed some damnfool website that said any and all forms of lubrication would disproportionately "block" the XX sperm - because they are heavier. I could go into more detail but it was the stupidest thing I'd ever said yes to. It was so important to her - figured I'd try.
No lubrication whatsoever - not even what her own body could make, so no foreplay. Not even kidding. So I found myself having to do this as part of her plan. Literally just jamming it in, no prep, no preamble.
Was as vile as you'd think. Imagine trying to do cardboard. Unnatural. Highly painful for me... but for her it was far worse. It was, physiologically, rape. It would be how a rapist felt physicslly duting that act. My wife wept and sobbed nonstop from pain, cried out at my every move. After about 30 seconds she was begging me to finish. I stopped and asked her can we do it the normal way, that sex was not for hurting. She absolutely insisted on doing it the way her absurd "proven method" described and freaked out that I had stopped. She looked me right in the eye and demanded I continue for the sake of the daughter she wanted so much. Through her tears she demanded it. When I wanted to refuse she cried even harder because then she would have had all that pain and damage without the "justification" of doing it the right stupid way according to her stupid fad website theory.
I committed the physical act of rape - I felt the same physicsl / tactile sensations as a rapist would. Emotionally it was different of course - I loved her, full of concern for her, kept asking if we could stop. She made me promise and swear I wouldn't bail out on the middle - that I'd finish.
Sobbing, crying out, shrinking away from my touch. Lower lip collapsing behind her upper teeth like a child. Face crushing with pain. "It hurts, it HURTS, please finish!" "I don't want to keep going--" "No, you have to finish!"
Dying inside as I made her suffer, I wished for any way to speed things up but my own pain - again, think "cardboard" - dragged things out. Finally worked. Tried to hold her afterwards, she mumbled she was okay to somewhere in middle distance. She had bled. Even I was sore for 2 days. I was shocked some days later when she demanded it again, told me to just ignore her and go by what this plan said. Second time even worse because of prior soreness. In our own way we took turns begging for it to stop.
When I had my breakdown in October, those memories were very major parts of the final cascade that brought my CSA history back to life. I knew what raping a woman felt like, physically, and my mind dwelled on terrible wrong things getting done with penises until, presto, welcome back to being 8 and now it's your turn to cry.
We did end up having a girl.
My wife often jokes -JOKES! - to her girlfriends about how her methods worked. I tried to talk with my wife about how horrible and unnatural it had felt and that I'd never in a million years wanted to see or would be able to forget seeing her crumpled crying hysterical and in pain, seeing blood after, but she cut me off and said she never wanted to discuss it again. She is treating me the same as she always had, nothing changed.
But it was a mindfuck of sexual guilt for me and I'm sure it played a major role in reviving another case study of abusive sexual activity - my own.
"Don't think it hasn't been a little slice of heaven just because it hasn't!" --Bugs Bunny