Nympho Slut

Nympho Slut

© 2021 The When You\'re Ready Project
The first time I was raped I was 16 years old. The night exists for me in a series of flash-bulb images that I can neither piece together nor erase from my memory, despite years of trying. I’m still not sure if it was my fault, even though I know it wasn’t.
I don’t think about it very often anymore, but every few years I revisit the spiral of shame, and guilt.
My last clear memory was stumbling away from the crowd, looking for a place to sleep. I was drunk… really drunk. I was being a typical teenager: acting out, rebelling – trying to distance myself from a goody-two-shoes image. Before that night, I had only been to a couple of parties, most of my wild stories were embellishments. My parents were known for being strict, so I didn’t get invited out very often. I w anted desperately to be part of the cool, older crowd who drank and smoked cigarettes. I was thrilled to be at the party, drinking cans of Coors and tossing them in the back yard of the kid whose parents were out of town. I realized m y ride had left without me, I was feeling sick and disoriented and needed to sleep until I could walk home. I found an empty bed, it was a child’s bedroom, I was going to lie down for just a few minutes.
I’m awake and it’s dark. He is inside me. I feel sick. Who is on top of me? “What are you doing?” He grunts. I try to push him away but my arms are weak. “I don’t want to.” I try to pull my underwear up, they’re around my knees. He pins my arm down. “Please.” “Shhh.” “I’m going to be sick.” “Shhh.” He’s getting angry. There’s a crack in the door and I can see wood paneling in the hallway. He finishes on the child’s bed, next to me. He wasn’t wearing a condom. He gets up and walks out. I want to run away, but I’m ashamed and I don’t want anyone to see me. I cry myself to sleep.
I’ve known my rapist since childhood. He was one of the cool kids at my school, a popular jock who was older than me. The next morning, his friend called me a slut and said “don’t worry, I won’t tell his girlfriend.” His girlfriend found out, and soon everyone had heard what a slut I was. Somehow I was more comfortable with being a slut than with being raped, so I accepted it.
And I never told anyone, until now.
I’m afraid to tell my parents. I’m afraid my step-father will read this, figure out who it was, and confront my rapist. I’m nervous about how he’ll feel when he realizes he inadvertently teased me about the events that happened after that night. I forgave him but I’m afraid he won’t forgive himself.
I’m afraid the people in my home town will call me a liar, and judge my parents. I live 3000 miles away now, but my family will have to deal with the backlash.
I’m afraid for my rapist’s wife and children.
But today I’m facing those fears, as much as I can handle at a time. Today, this blog is the beginning of an idea that may or not become big. It’s still anonymous, but that’s okay. It’s all I’m ready for, just yet.
When you’re ready, and want to share, I’m here. We’ll do this together.
When You're Ready.org is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories.
alert(‘HACKING IN PROGRESS!!! ^%$ I HAAZ HAXX (&&* 1337 ‘);
Sounds like a fake story. Sorry, pretty cliche.
The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we'll be here.

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Many men dream of a nymphomaniac wife, but possibly what they don't think is that possibly these women not only want to have sex with one man, but with sever...
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My Story: The summer I became a slut Posted on December 8, 2014 by WYR The first time I was raped I was 16 years old. The night exists for me in a series of flash-bulb images that I can neither piece together nor erase from my memory, despite years of trying. I'm still not sure if it was my fault, even though I know it wasn't.
I am such a slut . Hey guys. My name is rachael, and I am a slut . I am 16 years old, and kind of think I shouldn't do stuff that I do, but I don't care, I LOVE IT!! Always I am seeking new ways to show and share my body with strangers. Sometimes, I will wear a loose tank top with thin strap and no bra. Then go to the store and proceed to the ...
My journey from stay-at-home mom to sexual adventuress. I might look like the rest of the married people on your block. But I am, in fact, a sexual powerhouse: a discerning, happy slut . 145/Owen ...
1. She has a piercing on her vagina or nipples Sluturion threat level based on piercings Having piercings in sensitive areas shows a tolerance to pain and a taste for self-destruction, attention, and validation. The more dangling and flashy, the higher the notch count. 2. She has at least two visible tattoos
I tell my wife that she is a very sexy lady with a small p**** husband, and she needs to be satisfied with a huge c*** and not my little p****, she laughs and said OK, So I hope she is getting f***** with a fat c*** or c****, When we go away for a dirty weekend I am going to ask our friend Adam for his help to satisfy my sexy wife,
She is so drunk she ends up passed out on the floor in the hallway at the hotel with no room key. Screaming, moaning and yelling out "mommy, mommy" people are coming out of their rooms at 3am wondering what the hell is happening to this person who sounds like she's dying. One crazy night! Read more….
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Twenty-four years ago, I met the love of my life. We have been married for 19 years, and live in Portland, Oregon. We have two children, a dog, and a minivan. Since my husband is the primary breadwinner in our family, I get to be the real deal as a stay-at-home mom and homemaker: I slap on some yoga pants, organize carpools, plan meals, clean house, arrange play dates, do laundry, pick up kids, drop off kids, volunteer in the community — the whole thing. Imagine a favorite neighbor: That's me.
Oh, also: I am a self-actualized "Fledgling Madame" in the burgeoning world of sex-positivity .
What exactly does that mean? Well, I practice, promote, and facilitate safe and fun sex of all descriptions between consenting adults of all descriptions. I have an LLC, a logo, a mission, legal counsel, and dreams of building a business to serve a sexy, open community. I've started to produce events. I make introductions between potential sexual partners (both married and single), promote awareness, answer questions, offer advice, and kindly boss around a select-but-growing group of sexually adventurous men and women.
Homemaker and madame. Loving wife, swinger, and polyamorous lover. Devoted mother and dedicated promoter of safe, consensual, fun adult sex.
Having trouble reconciling all these things?
You're not alone. In a country and culture that systematically represses normal sexual urges, putting a face of shame and disgrace on even the simplest desires ( Don't touch yourself there! Save yourself for marriage! Don't look at other men/women! ), a person like me — well adjusted, well educated, happy, and successful — is expected to adhere to some restrictive societal norms. Women — and men — who deviate from those norms are, in fact, considered "deviants." Perverts. Sluts.
Monogamy and heterosexuality are supposed to "look" a certain way in our culture. But sexual proclivities are as diverse among married, straight people as they are in the LGBTQ world. Every human has distinct eating habits and sleeping habits; sexuality and sexual predilections are as singular as the individual. While I might look like the rest of the married people on your block, I am, in fact, a sexual powerhouse: a discerning, happy slut .
My upbringing was fairly conventional, if somewhat privileged. My parents loved, supported, and encouraged me, as they do to this day. I attended excellent private schools — including an elite boarding prep school — and got my bachelor's degree in history and literature at a small liberal arts college in Europe. I met my future husband in college. After school we were happy to settle in an energetic, progressive city like Portland. Before our children were born, I had a successful career in event planning, managing large charitable auctions and business events. A month before our first baby was born, I left my event-planning career to stay at home with my daughter. I nursed, cooked, cleaned, nursed again (and again), and attended to the needs of my family. This was my new career. It was difficult, and often lonely.
After four years of full-time baby monitoring, I needed to work outside of the home. So I started a business as a fashion stylist, professionally advising men and women on wardrobe selection and management. I love to work, and thrived with each client interaction. I built my business while organizing carpools, attending doctors' appointments, room-parenting, play-dating, serving on a board or two, cleaning, dicing, pressing, and community-building. I was — and still am — an engaged, driven, and organized new-millennia mom, balancing a small business, a big social life, nurturing my marriage, and raising two small girls to be powerful, informed, curious, and free-thinking individuals.
I have also always been a very sexual being. I enjoyed sex with a handful of partners before my marriage, and, in the context of our marriage, my husband and I had always been open and adventurous, though monogamous.
On a summer evening five years ago, my husband and I were sharing a bottle of wine and relaxing on our front porch. He asked me, "Have you ever thought about sleeping with another man?"
That's a big question. It's scary to ask, and scary to answer. I had heard about polyamory — specifically "swinging," with its built-in 1970s connotations — but the idea had never been presented to me in a way that appealed. TV, magazines, and movies described a culture and a constituency that simply didn't resonate with who I am. As a straight woman, the images of girl-on-girl held no appeal for me. The people I saw interviewed on the topic of swinging and poly weren't sexy to me. The media didn't present a very inviting picture of sexual adventurism for a married, monogamous, heterosexual woman like me.
Had I thought about having sex with other men ? Of course I had. The fact is, even people in the most committed monogamous relationships feel attraction outside of those relationships. We're hard-wired that way, and no amount of anxious moral proselytizing can change that.
So, being honest — a critical component of my life partnership — I told my husband, "I fantasize about other men … all the time." From there we opened up a three-month conversation that relieved a pressure we hadn't even realized existed in our relationship. It united us; I learned things about my husband that were surprising, profound, and sexy! In turn, he learned quite a bit about me.
We both wanted to act on our fantasies. Because we are middle-aged — more of the "cocktail party generation" than the " Tinder " generation — meeting potential partners online didn't feel right for us. (We tested those waters without success.) How can you tell if you will have the kind of real, physical chemistry needed to have great sex if the primary interaction is on a screen? How do you sort out the flakes from the serious? How do you exercise discretion with a shared computer?
After much discussion, my husband and I decided to go to one of our local sex clubs — of which there are surprisingly many. Portland is a sex-positive place, and the libertarian "live-and-let-live" mindset in our hometown means there are more strip clubs per capita here than in any other large city in the country. We have kink festivals, erotic galas, a Slut Walk — even a sexy Bed & Breakfast.
The sex club my husband and I decided to patronize was well known, and drew people from all over the country based on its reputation, full bar (most sex clubs are BYOB ), and comfortable, upscale amenities.
Our first visit to the club was nerve-wracking. Would we see anyone we knew? Would there be sex everywhere ? We signed the waivers, which indemnified the club from certain legal actions and bound us to the rules: no phones nor cameras; don't be creepy; "no" means "no" at all times , and use common sense … to name just a few. We paid our door fee, stepped through the doors, and changed our lives forever.
Like many high-end nightclubs, this one had a big bar, packed dance floor, lights, loud music, well-dressed patrons, and the din of a good time. Walk past the dance floor, and it was a whole different world: There was the couples' lounge with beds, sheer curtains, fresh sheets, condoms, and sanitary supplies . There were also banks of private rooms with the same sex-friendly amenities. Upstairs was a large bar and a huge "orgy" bed, a pole for sexy dancing, and more private rooms. My first impression was that it was clean, friendly, and sexy. People were smiling and welcoming; women wore sexy dresses or lingerie. It was a diverse, fun crowd, and — the best thing — I could dance as tantalizingly and erotically as I desired with my husband.
That first night at the club I had a number of revelations. First, "swingers" (for lack of a better term for the club's patrons) are nice. I mean really friendly, authentic, and (most notably) respectful people. Second, I'm an exhibitionist. Seeing the look in my husband's eyes when I took the top of my dress down in the couples' lounge was incredibly erotic. And finally, I'm sexy to other people. What's more? We , my husband and I, are sexy to other people.
This is something about the world of open sex and sexy, sex-positive people that I love above all else: Men and women alike are supportive, positive, and complimentary. Imagine my delight to be a forty-something housewife who hears, "Wow, your ass is a work of art!"
Who wouldn't get a little bump hearing that? In my monogamous life, I rarely received this kind of adulation. The monogamous, married man doesn't often throw around compliments like "You look incredibly sexy tonight" to his married female friend at the family barbeque. At the sex club, I was complimented often, and the confidence I gained profoundly affected other areas of my life.
After that first visit, I was unapologetically drawn to the club; I became braver, and more deliciously in-my-skin every time. In my experience, people need to feel safe to feel sexy, and within the club's walls, I could express myself as a sexual being in a way that I had never dreamed possible. I danced on poles, stripped to nothing, and openly, brazenly approached men and started conversation. My husband, more reserved by nature, enjoyed watching me — and the other women in the club.
Much to my surprise, I loved to see his gaze linger on other women. Seeing women interested in my husband was exhilarating — it affirmed and inflamed my desire for him to know that beautiful women thought he was sexy too. Another revelation: I am a compersionist , which means I get off on seeing the people I love give and receive pleasure. In that regard, for us, the club was a paradise.
My husband and I made the sex club a regular thing — date night, just like other couples all over the country, but with a twist. It's hard to describe the giddy anticipation I felt when I was driving around town in my sweatshirt, doing the daily errands, knowing that in mere hours I would change — superhero like! — in to some slutty little dress and do incredibly sexy things with my husband — and other men.
In the years since, my husband and I have had relationships with many people, both singles and couples. Some of these have been brief and impassioned; others have been deeper sexual relationships that evolved into friendships that have endured even after some of the mutual ardor cooled. The compersion aspect brings both my husband and I joy, and we appreciate each other more when we can see each other as sexual beings through fresh eyes.
As practitioners of open, positive sex, my husband and I are more attentive to each other, more patient with each other's feelings, and more grateful for our marriage than we have ever been before. By exploring consensual non-monogamy — and actively communicating with each other — my husband and I have learned meaningful lessons about each other. We've exposed facets of ourselves that had never presented in our monogamous relationship.
Of course, we struggled when the big feelings came in: jealousy, insecurity, and countless others. We have certainly felt those feelings. It could be argued that we court those feelings by living a sexually open life. When jealousy and insecurity arise, we talk them through (sometimes reasonably, sometimes passionately). We seek help from professionals, books , the internet , and our community. Sometimes it feels like going through a car wash without a car, but with each conflict or conundrum my husband and I emerge better — more present with, and understanding of, each other.
Much to our surprise, my husband and I found that our exploration of consensual non-monogamy led us to a community of like-minded people who have become an integral part of our lives. People in this world are authentic and caring. We share great intimacy even if we never have sex with someone. We talk about things that are often quite sensitive and deep a little bit earlier in the conversation. We are patient with each other as sex partners and as human beings, and it shows. I have friends from all walks of life brought together by the ideals of sex positivity, which include being nonjudgmental. We may all be into different things, but we respect each other and acknowledge there is a place for everyone.
A few years after we joined this community, my husband and I made the decision to be open with our " vanilla " friends and family about our choice. To our pleasant surprise, the response has been universally warm and accepting. People often ask if we've told our children. We discuss sex and sexuality in an age-appropriate manner with our daughters. As they grow to be more sexually aware, we will share information about our own choices as appropriate. We will always encourage them to understand their sexuality and be in charge of it. My personal experience in the swinging/poly world has allowed me to be more comfortable talking about sex, health, and feelings with my daughters with more knowledge and sensitivity.
I am a mother, a daughter, a wife, a lover … and now a Fledgling Madame — aka: Community Organizer and Educator for sexy people. How did I come to appropriate this fabulous — self-actualized — title and career?
I am a connector by nature. I enjoy bringing people together; this is what helped me be a successful event planner in my younger life. A few years into this adventure, my husband and I noticed people were looking to us as a resource — to make introductions, to offer advice, to throw a party or two. We were always happy to share our experience with people who were new to the community, and guide them to people who would reson
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