It was still early and Mom called out to me asking if the date had gone all right. Dad immediately wanted to know if he�d kissed me. So I lied. Yeah, the date was fine, we went to taco bell and then Log Jam Park and watched the speed boats in their trials. It was fun. No, we didn�t kiss, but I�m tired. Good night.

*shakes her head* Yeah... I lied to the folks.

The next weekend, when we went out, I got a fancy dinner, and flowers, and a movie. And I was back in control of the Game. I would brush my fingers against his knee in the theater and he would jump and that just sent a thrill of power through me.

The next two months passed like that, we�d go out and I would dangle the prize in front of his eyes. I would tease and taunt him sexually. I would talk to him, using those taunting phrases which implied that I knew what he wanted and that he wasn�t going to get it unless I wanted him to have it.

Then he started feeling me up. And again the roles were reversed. Uncharted territory, squeezing my breast, no, I don�t like it. I don�t want to do it, but how can I control it. What can I possibly do and I want to go out next weekend. Next weekend specifically, it�s going to be that cool function (can�t remember what it was) and there�s no way I want to miss out on that. Maybe I should let him feel me up, after all, it�s been a good day so far and he�s done nothing really bad. I just don�t like him and damn it, isn�t it supposed to be me who makes the decisions here and fuck that feels so damned weird.

*shakes her head* I remember getting so still, so silent, so frozen with confusion and internal fear. He backed off a little and looked into my eyes, confusion in his. His voice was soft and gentle. �Are you okay? Did I hurt you?�

I shook my head, whispering �no�, but didn�t elaborate. So, he tried it again, he squeezed my breast -- damn, that feels so... dirty. -- and kissed me again and I just opened my mouth to him. I didn�t kiss back, I didn�t fight. I didn�t tell him no, so he kept exploring. He kept seeing how far he could go. And I let him.

It got to his getting his hand on my other breast before I just couldn�t take anymore. I rolled away and without a word just walked to the car. I had my arms crossed over my breasts, my head down, my body shaking a little. He followed me quickly and asked what was wrong. I said I was cold.

He was very kind and considerate. He took me home right away. But that was just the start of yet another session of me being out of control. I was scared, I didn�t know what to do, I didn�t know how to react. I was so completely and totally confused. My Dominant side didn�t have the foggiest idea what was going on and my submissive side was just crying silent tears of grief, shame and anguish.

I hugged myself all the way home, feeling so lost and alone. I went to bed early and didn�t eat that night. The next day I didn�t come out of my room. *shrugs*

On our next date, he tried �making up� to me by bringing me flowers. I smiled softly, accepted them but didn�t have the heart to take control. I didn�t know what to do and I just wanted it all to stop. I wanted to push him away. I wanted to give him back the flowers and tell him that I wasn�t interested in dating anymore. I wanted to tell him that I didn�t want to be around him anymore. And I wanted to tell him that I was going to tell mom and dad everything. The whole story.

But I didn�t. I didn�t tell, I didn�t stop, I didn�t come clean. I went out with him and we had a nice lunch and went to a movie. It was fun and all, but afterward, we did the kissing thing and the feeling thing. And I just sank further into my own personal pit.

I stopped being in control. But I also stopped telling him what he couldn�t do. I became that... unthinking, unfeeling thing again. I just let it happen to me. I just..... I just let him do what he wanted to. Because I was scared and confused and so very lost inside my own head.

And the Dominant side of me kept screaming from the inside, it kept telling me I was letting him take control. It was telling me that I was being a weak, insignificant little pissant and I wasn�t doing my job. I wasn�t taking the situation. I wasn�t forcing him to do it my way.

How could I? I didn�t know what my way was.

It was around this time that I moved to Capitol Hill. Not exactly sure when that happened. I mean, I know when it happened, but I don�t remember exactly where in the sexual stuff that happened.

Regardless, I moved to Capitol Hill in Seattle, in June of 88. I went out with him every weekend. Sometimes one or two days in the middle of the week, but mostly only on the weekends. I got more familiar with how I wanted the Game to progress and started taking control again. And he let me.

I would tell him when and for how long he could play. And he would abide by that. We would go to various different parks and such and would have long walks talking about stuff I can�t even begin to remember. When he had treated me especially well, I would allow him extended time to play with my breasts. And he would. He would feel them and squeeze them and sometimes maul them.

It felt so weird and there was absolutely nothing arousing about it. His kisses never aroused me. His touches never aroused me. But I liked the power. I really liked the power. And it wasn�t arousing in a sensual way.

In fact, come to think of it, the first time I was actually physically aroused wasn�t until I was with my ex. Age 23, folks.

*shrugs*

Anyway, During the two months I was on the Hill, I would let Jonny do a little more every time. It got to the point where we were a park and he decided to try something new. He decided, as we were standing up, to bring his leg up and rub it against my crotch. Not really �rub� but �mash�. *rolls her eyes* He definitely wasn�t a skilled lover.

*chuckles weakly*

Anyway, he started pressing his leg up against my crotch and I really, really didn�t like that. He pushed me back against a tree for better purchase as he thrust his tongue forcefully into my mouth > allowed, and mauled my breasts > allowed, and ground his knee against my crotch > accepted but not understood or enjoyed.

I don�t remember when it had begun, but I�d quit denying him. I would subtly shift position or turn my head or claim some form of illness to get him to stop, but I wouldn�t actually deny him.

He didn�t grab my crotch, he didn�t put his hands anywhere near my crotch, he just pressed his knee against it. Again and again, as if expecting that to get me off or something, I don�t know. Maybe he�d heard about it from one of his buddies. I haven�t the foggiest.

But, I was out of control. That little part of me, that little, tiny, frail and terrified little girl was still locked away tight inside her prison. She didn�t move, she didn�t wail, she didn�t struggle, she just cried internal silent tears.

Sometimes I would wake up in the morning with my pillow soaking wet. Sometimes I wouldn�t know why. Sometimes I would wake up to find the tears on my face. And sometimes I would go to bed with the tears on my face.

Sometimes, while I was sitting there in my apartment, I would just stare out at the tiny portion of sky I could see, and I would rock myself. I would sit there alone on my couch and rock myself back and forth for hours, with tears running silent and hot down my cheeks. And I didn�t know why.

Yes, I know why now. Now I know that it was that silent part of me, that part of my psyche which knew I was being used and taken advantage of but was still helpless to stop. Because no only was I being taken advantage of by Jonny, but I was being taken advantage of by me too. Yeah. Really fucked up.

But sometimes that�s the way it goes.

The little girl side of me was also reliving the guilt and shame, not just for the actions and activities, but for knowing that Jonny wasn�t really available to be playing with me like this. Since he was supposedly �engaged� to Becky, he wasn�t really available. So, not only did that little girl side of me carry the shame and guilt of being kissed, felt up and ground against; the shame and guilt of taking control and allowing, nay, encouraging the same; but also the shame and guilt of knowing that there was a girl, younger than I, who believed Jonny to be above reproach. Who believed Jonny to be a true gentleman and her dearest most treasured love.

There was a girl planning her future with Jonny. And I was not only letting him kiss, feel and grind me, but I was encouraging it and enjoying the power I got from that.

I would spend hours at a time, just rocking, crying and staring at the sky, that little bit of sky that was visible between all the buildings. I almost felt my sanity slipping away from me.

I think that�s one of the reasons Staind�s It�s Been A While affects me so strongly. It�s been a while, since I could, hold my head up high. *sighs*

Jonny was not allowed in the apartment. That was a rule set down by the folks. No men in the apartment unless accompanied by my folks. Or if the man were my brother. No worries. I liked that rule. It meant that I could tell Jonny he couldn�t come in and it wasn�t my fault.

He did ask me to come in once, to use the bathroom. I hesitated. He said it would only be for a second, so he could use the bathroom then he�d go so I wouldn�t get in trouble.