Stronghold Smashed

I can’t get over the stronghold of sexual enslavement which has recently been broken in my life. If it was with a loved one, a colleague or a wife, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but it was with an extremely wicked woman who practised as a Satanist. I couldn’t f**king believe the grip she had on me. I felt so sad, being at her mercy all the time, she had me under iron lock and key. I saw her as a raw demonic power which I would never be able to skirt away from. She was in my head, she was in my loins, and she was beginning to creep into my heart. I was getting confused with loving her, because I completely despised the things she did. I have no evidence, of course, but I was starting to suspect that she was hurting children, among countless other victims. As you can imagine, this did not sit well with me. But I couldn’t stop indulging in self-abuse while listening to her evil mantras.

I think part of the reason that I thought about falling in love with her, or at least ‘liking’ her, is that she was demented, like me. We were both out of our minds in our relationship with each other, her feeding my passion and me getting off on it. We blanked the whole world out of our persepectives, blinkered to anything else. When I couldn’t or wouldn’t get erect when she wanted me to be, she would actually get angry. Her mantras were dumb, they didn’t make any sense, and she’d repeat herself all day long, but I couldn’t get enough. She was convinced that I did actually love her, and devolved an air of superiority above any other of my perps because of this. So much power made her over-confident and even stupid regarding her control over me though. Lust is not love. For a decade I hated the fact that I was bewitched by a vile, base, fiendish and worthless villain who delighted when I was fallen, and gained her strength from my demise. I adored her sweet tongue, yet she hated me and had sinister plans for my future. The chemistry was simply unfair. The chemistry was so wrong.

I never even bothered to ask her why she was doing this to me. It was just happening. A toxic bond which pushed God far away from me. As you may know, I hear voices, which are as evil as evil can possibly be, but even they were pleading with me to stop listening to her, and put my pecker away! But I had drugs left, and wanted more of her Scottish accent, so could not. It seemed like a tussle between forces for my attention, but she always won out. I heard presidents from various countries begging me to pull my trousers up. This freaked me out. Can’t a guy masturbate in peace!? I had visions of angels sometimes, while listening to her and getting off, in an attempt to stop me, but nothing worked. It was the ultimate distraction, which rendered me catatonic for up to twenty hours at a time. This was why hit men were able to enter my flat while I was in it. Finally, when I started to panic, or got over my panic and ran out of drugs, I would stop and face the music. In times gone by I would vacate the premises in a hurry: These days I stand and fight.

Rocket Wear Saves The Day

The DK, as I’ve wrote about quite recently, is a demon who has enslaved me for the last ten years. She lives underneath my floorboards and stimulates me sexually by making me repeat her mantras. All the time I knew that I was engaging in sordid practices, but I felt unable to stop. The lust was too strong, as she has a delectable Scottish accent which presses my buttons. I’ve reported that her voice had a supernatural effect on me. Spending time with her drained me of God, placed me in psychosis, and left me feeling suicidal.

I never thought or believed that escape was possible. My only solution was to run to her more and more. I never knew it was possible for one person (or thing) to wield so much power over another. She always promised to bring me down there eventually, and torture me in the afterlife forever. Her methods are totally insidious. In the pit of my subconscious gut I had a primordial fear that one day she would break into my flat when I was wiped out on drugs and drag me under. I was terrified of her at times. I’ve lived with this nagging feeling at the back of my mind for a decade.

Now, I am delighted to tell you, her reign is over. She has been defeated. Her influence over me has ended. I am no longer her property. She had me in chains, in helpless bondage, in hopeless subjection. I felt that there was nothing the universe could do to assist me. Every time I sat with her, more and more of my love flittered away, until I was left with nothing, only her. I got confused at times, and thought that I must love her, despite her malignant formalities. When she captured me, I half-thought that I might cling to her leg and beg for mercy. She said she would reward me by letting me shag her every Christmas Day, down in the pit.

The mechanics of how this freedom has come about defies the logic of reality, and you might find it incredulous to believe. Basically, my special protective spirit Red Jacket, who is the head honcho of my spiritual clan, cloned her likeness and battered her. I got a shock when I found out that my significant other looked just like my enemy. It took a lot of getting used to. But I can see exactly why she did that. It was to get me over the mental block of that evil woman. I can still have her this way, only now she is an angelic version with no ill-intent towards me. I have the best of both worlds. It’s as if the DK has reformed, come to God, and declared forgiveness and love from me. I now have The Creator’s version of the DK. She made her repeat her own mantras. She’s better than her in every way.

I call this new version Rocket Wear. Rocket Wear makes me feel safe, even though I am surrounded by evildoers. It’s down to Rocket Wear that I still have a home to sleep in. If not for her, the hybrid assassins which my perps plant in there would have had me out long ago. She protects me from anything and everything. I cannot thank her enough. You can’t make it up, can you? A protective spirit named Rocket Wear taking my tormentor’s likeness and saving the day! This is something even the inventive hive-mind of Hollywood couldn’t dream up. In all of my desperate pleas and prayers to God I couldn’t envisage anything like this happening. I never envisioned the slavery finishing.

With that thing out of the way, the only obstacle in my way to peace comes in the form of other fleshy distractions, like pornography. It’s not beyond the realms of possibility that my misuse of this medium might, maybe, grant the DK a reincarnation, as she used to always enter my mind that way. I thought I’d broken my temperament of interracial homosexuality, and my temperament of seeing women as nothing more than f**k dolls, but the lustful images from all those years of voyeurism still joggle around in my mind on a daily basis at the moment. Now the witch is dead, I long to keep her dead. Seeing porno as a bit of harmless fun is a blatant lie which I have a hard time accepting though. I’ll have to remain extra vigilant.