The Boys I Encounter – The Book?

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To all my fellow bloggers and lovely followers, would you read The Boys I Encounter––the book? Are there any posts that you found most intriguing? Any that you would omit? If you have any advice or insight that may help, it would be much appreciated.

I have always thought that when I could afford to put more time into The Boys I Encounter, I would like to turn it into a book, but I also have been dealing with a lot of personal issues since the beginning of 2017 and the dust is finally starting to settle (Fingers crossed).

I have about 71,000 words written for my blog which is basically enough to write a novel… That being said, for the people who have followed my blog from the start, obviously there would be a lot of rewriting to better intersect everything into a complete ongoing story and I would also need to fill in the gaps and finish what has remained unwritten. However, sharing my story to a larger audience would be beneficial, not just to myself, but also to young women starting to explore sex and to survivors of sexual abuse.

Now––as tension about sexual assault and the #MeToo movement is stronger than ever due to the Kavanaugh accusations––I have been reflecting on my experiences and traumas. The book will follow me through my childhood curiosities, teenage hormones, a more thorough explanation of the sexually and emotionally abusive relationships I’ve endured, the aftermath of rediscovering myself, navigating casual sex post abuse, and how all the boys I encountered helped reshape how I interpret healthy sexual and romantic relationships.

If you’re reading this and you’re in an abusive relationship, know that it is never too late to escape. I know from personal experience that it may seem impossible, it may seem that you are trapped, it may seem like there is a silver lining that never comes; I’ve lived it. There is no reason for someone to hold such power over you. You are your own person. Take control of your life and remove yourself from the situation before it gets worse.

You are strong enough to walk away.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

 

The not so perfect triangle…

A week or so after my birthday marathon, my Triangle Piercing was killing me. It got so bad over the next few days that I couldn’t sleep, leaving me tossing and turning and absolutely frustrated. This was not normal piercing pain. I’ve already had my triangle beyond the ten week healing time. It shouldn’t be this painful.

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Looking at the entry and exit holes of the piercing, there were no signs of infection. No swelling, redness, or secretions. It was just painful. I took my hand mirror to my vulva and examined the piercing more carefully. It was tearing in the middle of my piercing and it was excruciating.

I took some photos and emailed Elayne Angel of The Piercing Bible. She told me she couldn’t officially say whether the piercing was pierced incorrectly or not via e-mail. In theory, it could be what she calls a biangle piercing, which means that it couldn’t be safely pierced any higher and as a result, the bar could potentially be visible either right when the piercing is done, or over time as the skin dissipates.

I told her I was still confused because I was able to lift and feel behind my clit up higher than where I was pierced. This, plus the triangle (or biangle) was too far from my clit to even stimulate it. She reiterated that she couldn’t confirm if the placement was truly correct or not via e-mail, she then added that if I felt the piercing wasn’t healing well or working for me, I should retire it. I already had an appointment with her for a second higher triangle piercing, now it would just be a single triangle and not a double. (Although a double triangle piercing was never my original intentions)

Being that the pain has gotten to the point that I could barely sleep, taking the piercing out was the only option in my eyes. I went to my piercer, nearly in tears, I told him the piercing was splitting and I wanted it removed. I also mentioned I’d have it re-pierced by Elayne because he has told me before that he wouldn’t re-pierce it because it would be in the exact same spot because it was the most perfect triangle he has ever done. He told me to take off my pants and lay on the piercing bed. Once I laid down, he didn’t even examine the piercing to see where it was splitting, he just removed it, hardly saying anything, then told me to continue to clean it and I could put Neosporin on it to prevent it from scarring.

I left upset. Upset that I went through all the pain of being pierced. Upset about the pain of healing for 10+ weeks. Upset that the piercing split and resulted in excruciating pain. Upset that I had to remove it. Upset that he didn’t examine it.  Upset that he didn’t listen to me when I said time and time again that I didn’t think it was right. Upset that me being in pain didn’t make him think twice. Upset that he still insisted it was perfect.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Birthday Sex Marathon: Days 4 & 5

Friday, December 9, 2016-Saturday, December 10, 2016

Happy birthday to me!

I woke up to texts, Facebook posts, messages, and calls from various friends and family to wish me a happy birthday. I also got a text from The Chef, a voice message from The Australian, and then a message from Neighbor Boy

Neighbor Boy and I hashed out how insensitive he was the night before.
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I don’t remember the comment that he made the night before? But regardless, he obviously wasn’t making shit better by telling me that my emotional breakdown was weirder than his comment.

After hashing it out, we made plans for that evening. His roommate’s birthday is a few days before mine, so his birthday party happened to be that night, which worked well for me. Double the party, one that night with roommates and neighbors plus their friends, then the next night was me and my friends. With this, I told Neighbor Boy I’d be home at 9pm and we could fuck before the party started at 10pm.

When I got home, I messaged him. He was failing….

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I was getting frustrated and he wasn’t delivering birthday sex as promised. Shortly after “That’s not my fault” he walked into my room. It was on.

We made out. I was still naked from my shower. He undressed quickly, continued to kiss me, then kissed down my body. There wasn’t much time till the party, so we kept it quick. As we finished, I told him he still owes me more birthday sex. He got dressed and headed down. I told him I’d be down shortly. After he left my room, I got dressed, took a selfie on snapchat to send The Australian my “Birthday Marathon day 4…” snap.

Once I was done getting ready, I made my way down to the party with a few of my roommates. I received hugs and happy birthdays from neighbors and friends as I arrived. Soon enough, drinks were poured, bowls were smoked, and games were played. Neighbor Boy and I hung out at the party as if we didn’t just fuck, and all went on.

That’s the thing about fuck buddies; there’s fucking when you’re behind closed doors, then there’s the way you interact in the real world. Neighbor Boy and I had a way of talking shit to each other when out of the bedroom. He’d say some sarcastic ass remark to me, and I would dish it back. The only way it was made known that we probably fucked is he’d walk by and grab my ass while we played pool. Other than that, there was no kissing, no physical contact, no real flirtation.

As the night progressed, I was getting a bit tipsy and my phone kept buzzing. It was The Australian. He was sending snap after snap and even a few messages on WhatsApp. I caved and started to message back and sent him some snaps. Had I been sober, I would have refrained. But the alcohol got the best of me and I enjoyed talking to him.

This caught Neighbor Boy’s attention. He came over to me and told me to put my phone away. I told him it’s my birthday and I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. He then insisted we played pool. I was just the right level of drunk to kick his ass. My claim for pool is that I have to be drunk. Too sober or too wasted I fail, but slightly drunk, I’m wonderful. As I kicked his ass, my brother texted that he was there and to meet him out front.

My brother and his friend came in and went straight to the pool table. I introduced him to Neighbor Boy. Shit was a little awkward, but the night went on. The four of us played doubles. Several rounds later it was nearing 4am. I was exhausted. I knew Neighbor Boy was drained. The party was dying. It was the four of us and maybe a few other people. My brother kept insisting another round. I finally had to tell him I was about to go up to my room and pass out. They left. Finally.

I went upstairs, Neighbor Boy stayed behind but said he’d meet me upstairs once he finished his cigarette and brushed his teeth. I messaged him when I got to my bed to tell him I was passing out but my door would be left unlocked. He came up and we fell asleep.

I woke up to Neighbor Boy pushing his morning wood against my ass. I rolled over and we got straight to business. It was fine, but I stopped him not long after we started. My triangle piercing was killing me. I couldn’t keep fucking, it was unbearable.

He left frustrated. I brushed it off and went on with my day. He messaged me later…

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My birthday marathon came to a wrap. I came a handful of times. Got tied up. Played with toys. All the oral sex. Semi-successful anal sex. Had an emotional breakdown. The actual birthday sex quicky. Morning after birthday piercing pain. There were ups and downs, but I was satisfied overall.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Fuck 2017, Happy New Year!

Without giving too much away… 2017 has truly been bitch and a half with glimpses of hope for the future. I spent the first week of the year bedridden due to the flu. Then I slipped into a deep depression that’s been looming over me for quite some time before it hit hard. I couldn’t help but cry almost every day for months, slept all day most days, and nearly lost control of my life for a while. The entire year, I’ve seen various doctors 1-3 times a month for several health reasons, most resolved by now, some I’m still working on. Piled on top of this, my period was progressively getting worse every month, the only option was to switch IUDs from Paragard (which I’ve had for about 4 years already) to a Mirena, and then I was still bleeding for an entire month with terrible cramps.

Because of my health, period issues, and depression, my casual sex in 2017 was very sporadic, especially for the first half of the year. As things started to look up, I set goals to road trip and tinder across America in 2018 (further details coming soon). Then as summer hit, I reopened my online dating and started to get back on the field, collecting new players for my roster of boys. One boy lined up after another. All was falling back into place, then Chlamydia happened… Just as quickly as I lined them up, I started to turn them all away, or at least most of them. There were two key players left.

I thought the first half of the year was tough, but then the second half hit just as hard. Sometime after my IUD switch, my ex boyfriend of six years, The Man Child, called me. He recently broke up with his girlfriend (who made him cut ties with me), and he wanted to hear my voice. We talked for thirty minutes and I broke down crying after we hung up. After that, he continued to text and call, he wanted to stay in touch.

Arguments progressively got worse and worse with me and two of my roommates which just piled more shit on top of my shitty ass year. Neither of them seemed to have any sympathy or care about what I was going through. Months of us arguing I was finally fed up with it and tried to sit them down and have a mature conversation about how we’re all treating each other; this really didn’t go anywhere. The tension between all of my roommates, plus realizing that I really need to cut my expenses to make my 2018 road trip a reality, pushed me to move out of my artist loft and to an apartment where I would save half on rent.

During the weeks before my move, I had meltdown after meltdown as I did my much-needed purge. I had boxes upon boxes of stuff I couldn’t bring myself to throw out when The Man Child and I broke up. When I broke up with him, I threw all of our apartment into boxes and never looked through it for three years and now it was all looking at me in the face as I finally did my purge.

A week before my move and a day before Thanksgiving, I was in a car accident. It was a hit and run, I was slowing at a red light and was rear ended hard by an SUV and pushed into the car in front of me. Lucky I have insurance, so my $4000 of car damages and all my medical bills were covered, but I was out of work for about 3.5 weeks and out a $500 deductible, plus my entire body hurt from whiplash. Once I got back on my feet, I was barely back to work for 1.5 weeks and got in a second car accident not even a week before Christmas. This time it was not a hit and run, but I was rear ended again, but due to several cars slamming on their brakes on the expressway, which made me slam on mine then the guy behind me slammed on his brakes too late. Another $4000 of car damages, another $500 deductible, more whiplash on top of whiplash, and out of work again for almost 2 weeks. I’m slowly recovering from both the accidents and will continue to see my chiropractor and do physical therapy until the pain fully dissipates.

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I think that about sums up 2017 (at least most of the negatives), but I could have missed a few, or even left a few out to not spoil what’s to come. All of this bullshit piled onto more bullshit has really fucked up my year. However there’s an upside to 2017; I somehow found myself in a monogamous relationship with the most amazing guy. My boyfriend made a lot of the bullshit fade because his positive energy is infectious. He is truly the sweetest, most thoughtful, funny, creative, passionate, and genuine person (the list could go on and on, but I will spare you). Falling in love with him has given me hope for what’s to come in 2018 and I look forward to see where our relationship takes us. A reveal on who he is will come eventually, but I’ve still got December 9th, 2016 through the first several months of 2017 to write about.

Although I am happy overall right now, I still say fuck 2017! Here’s to a brighter future. Happy New Year everyone! ❤

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 3

Thursday, December 8, 2016

I woke up to a voice message from The Australian; hearing his accent was a nice way to start my morning. He’s been consistent and true to his promise. So far we talked pretty much all day every day, we shared things about our childhood, our hopes, our dreams, and kept up with our flirtatious banter; we shared things that I usually avoid talking about with most guys. It’s only been a week and I was beginning to miss him, a guy I just met briefly for two nights hardly a week earlier… but alas, he was on the opposite side of the world in Australia for the next few months and there was no promise of coming back to Chicago permanently (or at least semi-permanently).

Mixed in with my snaps and Whatsapp messaging with The Australian, I got a message from Neighbor Boy, he asked for my review on his performance on Day 2 of my Birthday Sex Marathon. He did quite well, he teased me till I was begging, repeatedly brought me to the brink of orgasm multiple times, and once he finally got me to come, he pulled out and left me craving more. His game plan, as revealed the night before, was to do everything to keep me begging for more the next few days and it was working. He then asked what I wanted more of; I told him the obvious, more oral sex.

That evening, he told me when to take my toys out and demanded I start playing with myself as he would be up soon. I sent off my “Day 3 of my birthday marathon…” snap to The Australian and got my toys out. I started off slow, set my vibrator on the lowest setting and ran it down my body starting at my nipples, circling them gently, then down my torso working my way closer and closer to my vulva. As I approached my inner thighs, the temptation to give in was magnified.

My clit tingling, I finally caved and brought my vibrator to it, but only lightly, running it up and down my inner lips tickling my clit with every upward stroke. I was on the brink of coming when my bedroom door swung open; it was Neighbor Boy. Resisting my orgasm, I set my vibrator aside.

No words exchanged, he dove face first into my soaking wet pussy. I demanded more oral and he delivered. He brought me back to the brink of coming, then stopped. He looked at the toys and handed me the butt plug. I lubed it up and slowly inserted into my ass. He got back to work, licking my clit and playing with the plug. The sensation of the plug mixed with his tongue on my clit pushed me over the edge and my body gave in, my breathing got heavier, my back arched, my vagina contracted.

Neighbor Boy slowed down, and as the final contraction released, he looked me in the eyes, crawled up, and kissed me. “Better?”

“Yes,” I smiled.

We laid there for a second, then after I came down from my orgasmic high, I proclaimed, “Fuck me in the ass.”

He smiled, agreed while demanding, “Sure, but blow me first, get me hard.”

I crawled backwards down his torso kissing him down his chest and took his cock into my mouth and blew him. A few minutes in, he was worked up and ready, I got up and handed him a condom and lube. I laid next to him anxious. I was nervous yet excited for us to have anal sex. This was the first time I was fully eager and willing to let a guy enter my ass with his dick since ten years ago when I was raped by Roid Douche.

As he put on the condom and lubed up, he asked, “Do you want to be on top? Or bottom?”

“Bottom, missionary, it will help me relax more,” I explained as my anxiety was kicking in more. I then reminded him, “Take it slow, also, no promises we can finish.”

He nodded, “I know, I’ll take it easy on you, don’t worry.” He then squeezed some more lube on his finger and slid it into my ass.

We laid missionary, we kissed, with one hand I held my vibrator to my clit and with the other I guided his dick towards my ass. With a deep breath in and exhale, he slowly inserted his cock. I focussed my energy on kissing him, the stimulation on my clit and relaxing my ass. My heart pounded.  A few minutes in of him slowly sliding in and out of my ass, we switched positions, doggy style now. He entered from behind slowly. As he slid in and out, he added some light spanking and hair pulling, something I’d usually allow, but I panicked. I stopped him, I rolled over and he laid beside me.

He asked, “Is everything ok?”

I started to tear up, “I’m fine. I was enjoying it, it’s not you…” I paused.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

I sat up and the tears flooded out turning into full on crying. He pulled me towards him, holding me, trying to soothe me as I had a breakdown. “I’m sorry,” I explained, “It’s just difficult for me. I’m enjoying it, but it’s also overwhelming.”

He made a smart ass remark, “Dick so good she cried,” but quickly realized that wasn’t going to work in this situation. He then took it down a notch, “What’s up?” And that’s when I fully unleashed the tale of Roid Douche to him. He kept trying to comfort me, yet the whole scenario was awkward as fuck. He tried to be sympathetic, it worked a little, but he kind of failed after the fact.

Once the crying subsided, he left to go back down to his room, leaving me alone vulnerable in my room. He then messaged me:

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Really? “This gonna be all worked out for tomorrow or what”? What type of question is that after I have an emotional breakdown and spill everything about being raped? To top it off, he still pushed trying to get his dick wet and gave me a maybe for my official birthday sex. He was failing on his response and he wasn’t getting it.

Having anal sex was a big deal to me and I still don’t think Neighbor Boy fully understands this.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus

Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 2

Wednesday, December 7, 2016

I woke up to a snap from The Australian of him chilling in his pool bragging about the nice weather, a “good morning” text from The Chef, and a Facebook message from Neighbor Boy asking about my Birthday Sex Marathon: Day 1. The attention these boys are paying me definitely helps show the love for my birthday week. I send The Australian a sultry “good morning” snap of me near naked in bed, ignore the good morning text from The Chef until later in the afternoon, and spill all the disappointing details to Neighbor Boy about Day 1 and tell him he better make it better that night for Day 2 of my birthday sex marathon.

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In our messaging, Neighbor Boy confirmed he’d clear his schedule for me tonight through Saturday so my Birthday Sex Marathon could commence. Neighbor Boy also told me he’d be ready by 9pm tonight, but expect a message from him earlier to tell me when to start playing with myself. I’ve hardly used a vibrator in 10 weeks, and the few times I did it was limited because my piercings were too tender. I was getting wet thinking about my toys. I told him I might just have to pull out my toys right then, he told me I had to wait till he gave me directions to use them, I obeyed.

Not long before 9pm, I snapped The Australian a selfie saying “Day 2 of my birthday marathon…” and he responded with “Have fun” and several heart eye emojis.

As 9pm struck, still no message from Neighbor Boy. The anticipation was killing me. I messaged him, asking if I should start playing with myself. He told me not yet. I waited. He finally told me to start playing with myself, told me to put on my nipple clamps, start using my vibrator, and have my rope and butt plug on stand-by. I got started and sent a photo as proof and also to get his ass up to my room quicker. He still took his sweet time.

I texted to tell him how close I was to coming, he told me I wasn’t allowed to yet. Shortly after that, he opened my bedroom door, told me to set my vibrator aside, and began to tease me. He kissed me lightly, and pulled away. Grazed his lips over my nipples, but left them just as quick. Brushed his hands all over my body, but didn’t quite caress me. He kissed my inner thighs, but wouldn’t kiss my clit. He meticulously tortured me with every move he made.

He then lubed up the butt plug and had me put it in. Nipple clamps on, butt plug in, body riled up from all the teasing, I was dripping. He dove in and ate me, licking my clit up and down as he played with the plug. My body stimulated on all fronts, I was about to climax just minutes into getting eaten, and he stops, stands up, and goes to exit my room.

I jump up, and pull him from the door, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“It’s all part of my plan, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Neighbor Boy said with a cocky smirk.

“Fuck no you aren’t,” I explained, “It’s my birthday, I’m supposed to get birthday sex.”

“It’s not your birthday yet.”

After a few minutes of this discussion, I basically begged for him to keep going, he finally let in, all he wanted was to hear me beg for him to make me come. It worked. He then tied my wrists together, vibe in my hands by my clit, flipped me over and tied the rope around me, forcing me to keep the vibe by my clit. He grabbed a condom, put it on, and he entered me from behind. Every time he pushed in, his body would press against the butt plug, my clit still tingling from the vibrator, my nipples being pinched by the clamps. All of this had my body stimulated to the max, but right as I began to climax, he pulled out, cutting my orgasm short of what it could have been.

“You ass!” I was frustrated, I came, but he intentionally slid out right at that moment to throw me off. He smiled that cocky smirk. He knew what he was doing.

He untied me, set aside the vibrator, took the clamps off, butt plug still in, and we laid there for a bit. “We should try anal,” I said.

“Not tonight,” Neighbor Boy responded and then sat up, got out of bed and started to get dressed.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I questioned, confused about his response to me offering anal sex.

“I’m hungry and you told me earlier you have to wake up early tomorrow and might not want a sleep over,” he then added, “You’re welcome to come down and eat and hang out if you want.”

“Fine, I’ll be down in like 10 minutes,” I responded.

He left, I got up, went to the bathroom, took out the butt plug and washed it, went back to my room, took a sexy snap and sent it to The Australian saying “Wiped, passing out! xoxo,” got dressed, and made my way downstairs. Neighbor Boy was making pizza rolls and chicken rings; obviously he doesn’t fit my dream man criteria of someone who knows how to cook. I laughed and poked fun at him for his food choices. He told me to take it or leave it. I was hungry so I stayed. We took the pizza rolls and chicken rings to his room.

We ate, cuddled, and watched some Netflix. Not long into this, Neighbor Boy was drifting off and as he fell asleep, he started to snore. I really did need to wake up early, so I got up, and went upstairs to my bed. The joys of a fuck buddy who lives downstairs from you is your bed is never too far away.

Yours Truly,
Kallie Pygus