Attraction Versus Pain, Deafening Silence and the Pattern of Running Away

April 9-10 2021, TN 91 to Boots Off Hostel & Campground:

     A thru-hiker named Shadow brought up the idea of going to church for Easter service. I was absolutely stoked since I hadn’t been to church in a few months. Pringles lent me one of her dresses along with a cute pair of black slippers. We invited several people to join, but it was only us three who felt inspired.

     As we were driving out of Boots Off, I looked at all the hikers and yelled, “All these people are going to HELL!”

     The service started with what seemed like a very soft-spoken pastor, however about halfway into the sermon, he turned into a dictator. His voice grew loud and his face turned red as he yelled, or maybe in his eyes, “preached” the Word of God.

     He slammed his fists onto the podium, clapping his hands, barely able to catch his own breath as he shouted, “HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH! HALLELUJAH!”

     I had never seen someone so passionate and loud in a church setting. I looked around to see if anyone else found it to be off-putting, but everyone seemed unfazed, as though they were attending their normal Sunday service. People simply nodded their heads in agreement to his speech, whereas I could barely understand anything he was saying due to his heavy accent. I was on the verge of laughter the whole time.

     Pringles and I looked over at each other like, What the fuck did we just walk in to?

     She started counting how many times he yelled “AMEN” in between his sentences. She lost track around number 74. When the service ended, we thanked the Pastor for such a unique experience. He happily welcomed us to come back every week. Best church experience so far.

     Freshly cleansed from our sins, we drove to the gas station to buy some things. There, we noticed a Greek God of a man filling up his gas tank and all three of us went stupid. His tool belt wrapped around his waist while his jeans neatly outlined his bulge. His muscles protruded out of his shirt, he had airbrushed bronze skin and perfectly cut masculine features. You would think he was posing for an x-rated calendar. We all experienced a heat wave in our bodies and shouted “OW-OWWW” out of our windows like a bunch of teenage girls. We calmed down when we realized we were only five minutes out of church and were already trying to bang the gas station guy.

     The following morning, I asked Pringles if she could save me an apple fritter since I had been experiencing huge cravings for them. She told me it was in the fridge waiting for me. On the box it was labeled, “This belongs to Freyja,” with several arrows pointing to the fritter. Next level of love.

     Voodoo and I decided to slackpack 21 miles from TN 91 back to the hostel. It was our first time slackpacking and I could see why people took advantage of it. It felt as though we were flying through the trail, free of weight.

     The last mile, Voodoo found a tucked away spot beside the lake. He wanted to go swimming, whereas I didn’t feel called in the slightest to join. In fact, I wasn’t much a fan of water and, at the time, pizza was on my mind. So, I continued on without him.

     When I made it back to the hostel, first thing I did was go into the kitchen and cook a pizza to subside the perception of hunger. Voodoo showed up shortly after. I wrapped my arms around his neck, excited to see him.

     I kissed his juicy lips and whispered in his ear, “You’re so sexy to me, you know that?”

     Right at that moment, Pusher walked onto the property, covered in sweat—looking like he, himself, just finished a slackpack section. I quickly felt some tension arise, knowing that he just saw me making out with Voodoo. I had stayed in contact with Pusher the whole time I had been seeing Voodoo, so I felt as though I got caught.

     Pusher didn’t seem as though he wanted to approach me, so I made the first move. He gave me a quick hello, grabbed himself a pop, then went to lay down on the deck to catch his breath. I followed and made myself comfortable next to him.

     He sat up and asked, “When we first met, what did you first see when you looked into my eyes?”

     Attraction, I thought.

     “Pain,” he responded.

     He asked if I ever experienced pain in my life. I mean, the whole perception of the world was based off of pain, so it was inevitable that I perceived an experience of it.

     He heard through the grapevine that I had a new boy toy. I asked if he was upset with me and he said he probably would have been in his twenties, but he ceased to care now that he was nearly 40.

     Despite all that, he couldn’t understand why I wanted to be with someone so immature, insinuating that a guy like Voodoo could never stimulate my mind. He felt he was way too young for me mentally, which I completely agreed on. It was nothing personal, it was just that certain things came with experience.

     He asked, “Have you ever been with someone fully dominant?” His hazel eyes reached the depths of mine as he continued, “Have you ever been fully submissive with a man?”

     “I mean, yes. Well, maybe 90% submissive,” I responded with an air of doubt.

     In silence, he let my thoughts linger, then began to give me a list of all the ways he wanted to pleasure me.

     “There’s so many things I’m going to do to you when you’re in proper submission,” he mused, “when you’re fully gagged and blindfolded. On your knees, with your arms tied behind your back and then to your ankles.”

     I started panting through the patterns of my breath, feeling like he was making love with me through the poetry of his words.

     My mouth watered as he continued to paint the picture, “In the middle of the woods at 2am, only being able to smell me and feel my touch as you wonder if I’ve left you there… or if I’m right beside you. I’ll run the tip of my cock across your lips so you can taste my seed as a reward for not calling out in fear… for trusting that I wouldn’t leave you there all alone. And then, seeing the smile spread across your face as you greedily tongue the tip of my cock.”

     He locked eyes with me and asked, “You wet yet?”

     All the while he was talking to me, Voodoo was less than 20 feet away. I knew they both didn’t like each other. He gave me insight that he was on the verge of physically fighting him, but the only thing that stopped him from doing so was me. Definitely wouldn’t have been the first fight that I apparently caused. I wasn’t a woman worth fighting for, though. In the end, I would still choose myself.

     Voodoo approached me and leaned over to give me several kisses, establishing his dominance over me. Pusher let out an annoyed sigh, rolled his eyes and looked away. I became flushed as the tension grew, yet simultaneously, I couldn’t help but enjoy the uncomfortableness of it all. I fantasized about playing with my pussy right then and there as they fought over who could taste me first.

     When Voodoo walked away, Pusher asked me when I would stop running so that he could take care of me. I simply wasn’t ready to make the sacrifice of changing up my lifestyle.

     Later at night when I started walking back to my room, I felt so tempted to visit Pusher instead. I paused and stared at his door as I envisioned myself walking in, but in the end, I chose Voodoo.

     I felt such a deep sadness as I laid in bed tonight. I felt like my needs weren’t being met. I felt there was not much receptivity of my apparent emotions. I felt like I was ready to receive more and my soul had known that the entire time, but it took a while for it to sink in. He laid down beside me and asked me when I would stop running so that he could love up on me.

      Hm, there’s a pattern here, I thought. I’ve been told from numerous men over the years that I run a lot, or that I should stop running or to let them to run with me. I never viewed it as “running away”, but more so “following the guidance”.

     He gazed into the outskirts of my soul; I could feel the desperation he felt to understand my mind.

     He asked, “Can you open up to me?”

     I sat there in a deafening silence as a response. I didn’t feel safe to reveal my heart. The resistance was there for a reason. I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle my emotional waves and so I did what I did best—prayed to God.

(Full version on my site)