raidendedo

the siren sound of Hentai Haven

NSFW - don’t read if you’re not ready
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final warning.











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I jerked off into a condom last night.

It was nice not having a mess to clean up.

I was feeling the urge to… what’s the word… relapse.

I’ve been having it for the past few nights. Maybe week.

I’ve been wanting to watch Hentai. I think what hasn’t been helping is the anime recaps I’ve been watching before bed. The algorithm has pinned me for enjoying the “harem” power fantasy trope common in quite a few different anime.

It seems there is a whole genre dedicated to it, “Isekai” or something like that. Well the definition of that is a fantasy sub genre where a character is transported or reincarnated to a different world or universe.

The harem/power fantasy seems to be a subsection within that genre.

The first time I was exposed to hentai was… early. Maybe 10 or 11. Maybe earlier.

I tie it to my earliest memories of gaining access to a computer. To the internet.

I recall a sleep over at my cousin’s where we discussed the cheetah lady in The Justice League and when my cousin thought of her it made him feel good and it easier to fall asleep.

Later on at school I learned about Newgrounds.com and its mature section and later its Adult animations and games.

I should look when it came out but this artist Zone Sama released an animation of the characters Raven and later Starfire from Teen Titans getting raped by a tentical monster. Later they made one with Jenny the Teenage Robot getting raped by these rock monster things.

All three were hot.

There was one from a different artist of Blu and Frankie from Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends. That was probably an early exposure to the idea of pestering and nagging for sex; wearing a woman down. The idea of a woman sleeping with a social inferior out of pity and lust or to scratch an itch. The idea of statuses involvement in sex; power dynamics in sex.

To this day the idea of a woman finding me disgusting and pathetic and letting me sleep with her or pleasure myself to the sight or thought of her out of disgust and the sheer enjoyment of having power over me gets me hard just thinking about it.

I think this might be the most important piece of writing I’ve ever written.

If not for others, then definitely for myself.

A veil of shame being lifted. Which I think is healthy; I will continue.

The thought of fly fishing with the boys crosses my mind. The thought of biking to Bragg Creek and looking to meet women crosses my mind.

A good sign I think. A pro-social sign. A pro-social sigh.

Race play in sex is another one I got early exposure to. Especially bukkake. Big black dicks. Big beautiful women. Lubed up latinas. White woman pounded by black bull.

Penis envy. Desire. Jealousy.

Wanting a woman to tell me I am huge and all mine because I could satisfy her with my big black monster cock.

Shamefully aroused by the thought of my wife or girlfriend never truly being brought to ecstasy by my small, unassuming, unimpressive white dick.

Shamefully aroused at the thought that every woman I was with was secretly disgusted by me; was with me because of the status I was born with; some association with my rich grandpa and parents and the facade of an upper middle to upper class lifestyle.

The shame of arousal to knowing the woman is attracted to my position; not to me.

Because deep down inside I felt, I still feel at times, I am nothing.

Unworthy of love. Unworthy of desire.

Lower than dirt. Garbage. A monster.

Ugliness personified.

Damn that felt good to say. To write.

To get off my chest or my heart. My shoulders, my mind, my body.

I am attractive with no status or money or association. I am attractive as just me.

I am attractive as just Raiden. As just my little old brain in my little old me.