TOY TIME

This is an intense story, and may trigger people with PTSD. Please read with caution.

I’m going to work, its another typical day, dealing with the ex, my gender issues, and .... other things. I look for something to listen to on the radio, just flipping through my pre-sets, when I hit the local sports station. They are talking about the night’s football game, and I relax, letting my attention get back to my driving.

Suddenly, I realize they have changed topics, and now they are interviewing a man who accusing the basketball coach at a large American university, claiming that the man abused him for years.

I know I should turn the station, but my hand is frozen as he describes the betrayal of trust, his powerlessness, the lack of help, and I can feel my mind going dark, going back into my own past.

I get to work, and from the outside, it looks like nothing is wrong. I move, I talk, but my attention is totally drawn inward, as I find myself helplessly repeating the horrible words from my past.

“I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel, a toy only obeys. A toy does not want, a toy does not need, a toy only serves. ..... I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel .....”

I cant seem to make it stop. All the grounding techniques, all the redirection methods are failing me, as I am caught on the never-ending loop, and cannot get off.....

“I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel, a toy only obeys. A toy does not want, a toy does not need, a toy only serves. ..... I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel .....”

No one can tell I am lost inside myself. I have long ago perfected the art of putting my body on auto-pilot. I move, I even smile, and no one knows anything is wrong.

“I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel, a toy only obeys. A toy does not want, a toy does not need, a toy only serves. ..... I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel .....”

The words do not exist in a vacuum, I can hear His voice, feel His organ in my mouth, even taste His ejaculation as it goes down my throat. I want to gag, to spit it out, but cannot, and I keep repeating my loop.

“I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel, a toy only obeys. A toy does not want, a toy does not need, a toy only serves. ..... I am a toy. A toy does not think, a toy does not feel .....”

Finally, after twenty minutes, I’m find a way out of the loop, and I become aware of my surroundings again. I look at my workload, wondering how much I accomplished, when the intercom announces break time.

I make my way to the break room, weak, and shaky, and feeling ill. I am soiled, damaged, guilty. I weep openly, talking about it with some trusted co-workers, who help me get some balance back.

I’ve survived it again, but how many more times must I endure it?

Will I ever stop paying for His crime?

Does it ever really end?