Sex

(Post 3 of 9)

F was always very clear with me. The reason he made me his was that he liked how I fucked him. Our sexual connection was the driving force for his control and jealousy. He said he should have fucked me all those years ago. He regretted not being my first, but he was going to be my last.

As I think about it, F's love language is touch and mine is quality time. Our first two years together, we spent a lot of time together, we had a lot of sex. Despite our busy schedules, we would see each other once or twice a week. We created our own little bubble and fed into each other's love languages.

It also helped that I was completely submissive to him. I'm not talking about "Fifty Shades..." here. He was the man and I was the woman. I didn't raise my voice, I didn't talk back, I did what he wanted me to do. When texting, he insisted on proper sentences; I couldn't just reply, "yes," it had to be a complete sentence. I wore sexy clothes for him. He wanted me in thongs, so I bought thongs. He didn't like "cheeky" underwear, he wanted to see my ass. You know how they say, "A lady in the streets, a freak in the bedroom?" That's how I was to conduct myself with him.

About two and a half years into our relationship, we had our first break-up. He accused me of cheating. We both played a location-based game. I had introduced him to it and helped get him started. I was very active in the game and my username got me a lot of attention, not only because I was clearly a female, but everyone always assumed I got high too. I was really into the game and I was good. The game had a chat and as I mentioned, I got a lot of attention. Most of the time, I ignored the messages because they were teasing about getting high. As I progressed in the game, I would get messages from the opposing team members trying to get me to switch sides. F witnessed one of the exchanges and immediately texted me and accused me of flirting, saying he realized why I liked the game so much. He accused me of cheating and said it was over; he didn't answer my texts for days. Finally, a week later, he text me saying he had dreamt I was on my knees, naked and begging for his forgiveness. To take me back, I had to film myself just like his dream and send it to him. I did it. And then he still made me beg for forgiveness the next time we saw each other. As punishment, he didn't "make love" to me, he fucked me like we were in a porn movie. I felt completely humiliated and debased and I let him do it to me.

There was one other time he was angry with me. I really don't remember why he was angry; what I had done, but when we had sex, I thought we were OK. We weren't. When we had finished, I went to kiss him and he pulled away from me. The look of disgust on his face was a dagger to my heart. He had basically just angry fucked me. We were silent in the car and he still didn't kiss me when he dropped me off at home. That day was worse than the previous time when he punished me with sex.

Don't ask me why I stayed with him after both of those experiences.

I loved him. I submitted to him. Sex was fun and enjoyable for us. Sex was how we connected, both during and after. Sex was how I got into his heart.

He never said he loved me, but I felt it. And I knew when I got too close. That's when he started retreating from me. All of a sudden, it would be months without sex and the fighting would just get worse.

He made more and more demands. I had a curfew. At first, it was under the guise of his worrying about me being on the bus/train late at night, but it was really about control. He had stupid T-Mobile and it was always getting me into trouble. He would start yelling that I wasn't home or got home past my curfew because he wouldn't get my text on time. I'd have to send him the screenshot of my side to prove the time I sent it. Lyft got me into trouble too. For some reason, the Lyft app doesn't show my correct address in my ride history. It will always shows a random 5-digit house number that doesn't even exist.

He never wanted to let me go out. He wanted me to stay at home. I stopped drinking alcohol because he didn't like it. I never hid anything about my life and he knew all my stories. He knew the "Lola" stories from when I was single and we weren't even talking and he would throw them in my face. I couldn't even drink at family parties without him getting upset, so I just stopped drinking.

We'd fight because I wanted to see him more, because I wanted our relationship to move forward. He'd promise to change, to do the things I wanted. One time, he had been out drinking with his friends, and he brought up having a baby. It was shocking to me because, not only was he saying this to me drunk, but he had made it clear he didn't want kids. That's why I was on birth control, so there would be no accidents. I was so conflicted. I always wanted to be a mom, but not like this. I wanted a family and that's not what he wanted. He wanted to knock me up in order to control me. Having his baby was the ultimate form of ownership, as he saw it. His words, "no other man will want you with a kid."

When I said no to the baby, he branded me in a different way. He made me get his name tattooed on my body. Again, so no one else would want me. Only one person knew about it and I made it seem like it was a mutual decision. He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with so it was OK. I didn't tell her he made me get it. I didn't tell her that he wouldn't do the same for me. No, I tried to be happy about it. It was just another way to prove my love. About a year after, he threw it in my face; said it wasn't what he wanted. He also said he wanted me to get a second tattoo, in a more private area, to really brand me as his. Fortunately, I never agreed to that one.

When he stopped having sex with me, I knew there were others. He couldn't go that long without having sex. F never committed to being faithful to me. I was supposed to be faithful to him. Those first few years, I know he was faithful to me. When he stopped fucking me, I knew he was getting it elsewhere. One time I had let him know I was home and the reply text wasn't for me. The tone was different, the words were different. Honestly, it was a sweet text and it had been so long since he had been like that with me, so I knew it wasn't meant for me. I didn't reply and he knew straightaway he had messed up. He tried to say that he was having drinks with a friend and that friend had used his phone to send his gf a message and sent it to me by mistake. Why would I ever believe him? He was the most paranoid and private person I knew. He would never allow anyone to use his cell phone. By the end of the night, he was angry at me because I didn't believe him.

He only ever admitted to having sex with someone else once. He told me he felt guilty, like he cheated on me, which in his eyes, he hadn't because he was allowed to have sex with whomever he wanted. I was the one that had to be committed and faithful to him. We hadn't had sex in over a year when he confessed to his only "transgression," so we'd already been together four years.