non sexual sadomasochism
The urge to ram my dick and balls against the edge of the table was far too great; I excused myself from the meeting, desperate for some kind of relief, and staggered into the bathroom. The thumbtacks in my shoes were old news. The staples in my torso barely registered. I sighed then searched for anything to swallow, something sharp enough to lodge in my throat, to choke me, maybe make me pass out. I punched myself in the ribs. It felt good, but not good enough.
I dug two thumbtacks out of my toes and drove them into my torso, infected wounds, nipples, belly button, anywhere soft enough to bleed and sting. Then, in a sudden flash of clarity, I took both thumbtacks and jammed them into my eyes. It gushed. I couldn’t see anything. This seemed to be permanent, but I loved it.
I pulled my shoes back on, buttoned my dress shirt, and felt my way out of the restroom toward the office. I realized my pants were still down, but it was too late; surely I would lose my job. One week in, and I couldn’t help but obliterate myself, physically, mentally, spiritually, and financially. That’s the only way I feel alive.
They threw me out. I begged them to pull up my pants; they didn’t. I stumbled away, searching for the bus stop, squeezing my cock and balls in my fist until I felt my testicles rupture, soft tissue turned into floating grit inside the sack. I punched myself in the face, split my nose, and bruised my eyes black.
That’s where this all began, in the mirror, hitting myself in the face. Back then, I cried. Back then, the pain was a novelty.
If only hurting myself were sexual, then at least I’d know when to stop. Instead, I can’t stop, and I don’t. The police dragged me off, then yanked the thumbtacks from my eyes.
The cell is nice and quiet, but they haven't fixed my smashed testicles. The straitjacket isn’t that bad. I can sleep and can’t hurt myself anymore. If they keep me in this straitjacket the rest of my life, perhaps I will not meet an early demise.
Unfortunately, they didn’t keep me locked up for long; they released me after a few days, and I had nowhere to go. I’m trying to find the edge of a bridge to jump from, but it’s a bit difficult to know where to go.