My Addict Lament (erotica)

I’ll have to admit it.
I can’t close my eyes anymore. Well, that is not entirely true.
I can close my eyes alright but when I do close my eyes it all starts all over again.
The voices. The whispers in my head are talking. “Submit to me”. “Submit to me” “..obey” “..submission is pleasure” “..freedom in submission..”
SHE runs on and on and does not stop that infernal whisper.
And when the whisper threatens to extinguish the cravings begin.
I notice the cravings. I laugh at them at first. Sometimes for days I laugh. When there is nothing more that I feel like laughing about I get very quiet. Very quiet.
Everyday life has a way of bringing me back to HER.
I work. I talk. I eat. I drive. I masturbate. I do all kinds of things to get off. Sometimes I find solace at church. The praise and songs and the mass all mesmerize me.
But ultimately I am too bad to stay there. Too bad. Too sexual. Too kinky.
I find myself breaking down and going back to HER. HER words soothe and comfort.
HER icons excite and focus my sexuality.
The more I listen to HER voice.. the more I watch HER hypnotic inductions I am comforted, excited and addicted.
The more I watch and listen.. the more I need to watch and listen to satisfy my mind and soul.
Oh, and don’t forget my body.
She uses my mind to reach my body and my body creates the pleasures that addict my mind.
No drug is needed.
As Salvatore Dali said, ‘I am the drug!’ I am the drug but I am not in control of it.
Perhaps I could be in control.
I could create a counter-induction and through the use of repetition I could break free.
But that thought gives me no joy. And perhaps that is the problem.
SHE has taken control of joy in my life as well.
When the drug becomes the source of joy the act of breaking free involves the rejection of joy and the acceptance of the pain of withdrawal.
The prospect of being free needs to be greater than the pain of the cold-turkey days.
And I have never known anyone to break free of an addiction on their own. Always takes help.
Well, I am alone in a sense. And I would be ashamed of telling them who and what I am addicted to.
I don’t think they would understand. “you cannot resist.. you do not want to resist.. you want to FALL for ME”.. the siren sings.
When I first heard it I questioned and thought that it was absurd.
Now it is merely a statement of truth.
I do not want to resist. I do not want to resist. I do not want to resist.
And in the end, all I desire is to fall once again for HER.
And in the end, all I desire is to fall once again for HER.
I am addicted. I am enraptured. I am mesmerized.
I am deeply hypnotized. I am joy. I am submission. I am service.
I am HER boy toy. My sweetest orgasms are dreaming of being used by HER as HER sexual object.
I love it. I see myself and I wonder where this is all going.
How long can this continue?
I am being changed.
I have been changed.
And I love it.
I love it.
I love HER.
I love HER.

© boytoysooy

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