Don't mind me farming points so I can post faggot trannies getting killed! 25
Confession: I was a gooner who would deliberately put myself into psychotic states so that I could play with my goonsluts in the psychedelic goonrealm.
What did I do? I'd spend weeks denying myself masturbation, unhealthy foods, pornography or anything else that could lower my T-levels. The goal was to have an overdrived libido, sensitive cock, and huge load to shoot. I budgeted what little I had for these sessions that took place in five star hotel rooms. I was always scouting for deals, and if I played it right, I was often able to score palatial suites for marginal rates. It was normal for me to drive several hours or even across state lines for this reason. Once at a hotel I'd always spend the first night preparing my room.
I needed to be sure I could feed, hydrate, and clean myself during the arduous wank ahead. I’d carefully measure out a water allowance to assure I didn’t over or under-hydrate myself, and I’d prepare nourishing snacks that could be easily downed without risk of choking or tooth breakage. I kept my goon setup portable and barebones with just a dozen or so of my favourite printed pictures that I'd strategically blu-tack to the walls and a laptop I'd link to a larger monitor. I'd curate which clips I would use for a given session, trying to limit my selection to ten or so videos at a time. A bit of discipline in this respect ensured I didn't spoil my libidinal appetite.
What did I do? I'd spend weeks denying myself masturbation, unhealthy foods, pornography or anything else that could lower my T-levels. The goal was to have an overdrived libido, sensitive cock, and huge load to shoot. I budgeted what little I had for these sessions that took place in five star hotel rooms. I was always scouting for deals, and if I played it right, I was often able to score palatial suites for marginal rates. It was normal for me to drive several hours or even across state lines for this reason. Once at a hotel I'd always spend the first night preparing my room.
I needed to be sure I could feed, hydrate, and clean myself during the arduous wank ahead. I’d carefully measure out a water allowance to assure I didn’t over or under-hydrate myself, and I’d prepare nourishing snacks that could be easily downed without risk of choking or tooth breakage. I kept my goon setup portable and barebones with just a dozen or so of my favourite printed pictures that I'd strategically blu-tack to the walls and a laptop I'd link to a larger monitor. I'd curate which clips I would use for a given session, trying to limit my selection to ten or so videos at a time. A bit of discipline in this respect ensured I didn't spoil my libidinal appetite.
What happened? I'd take a large dose of LSD (300ug +) and spend the next two hours anxiously trying to hold it together as reality dissolved. Then I'd arrive. The pornography would come alive in a way that was as erotic as it was terrifying. The videos would pop out into reality, like my monitor was a bawdy diorama out of some bad creepypasta. The girls would talk to me and address me directly by name. Pornstars would turn into girls I knew from real life. Mostly they would transform into alien humanoids whose skin glowed red and white-hot. They'd move like spiders and do impossible things. This was my 4D alien brothel in the Zeta Reticuli, and the place I had to keep coming back to.
The hallucinations were often so intense that a simple .jpeg could turn into a full motion video clip that ran for minutes, complete with sound from my headphones. I'd watch the girls I wanted so badly in real life turn into the nastiest cockhungry sluts imaginable who existed solely for my pleasure. They were my goonsluts to possess and be disposed of as I wished. This was the dragon I chased to the absolute seedy depths of misery. The carnal womb-lair of the psychedelic goonrealm. My addiction.
The dread I'd end up feeling would turn my stomach. I knew I was flirting with a schizophrenic break or the consignment of my soul to some malicious entity. As these sessions went on the moans started sounding like ISIS executions. The nubile, perfect young women would become hagged and rotten. Everything had a tendency to transform into the most shocking kind of gore of the sort you'd rather not think about. I'd usually end up too afraid to cum fearing the danger to my soul was too great
Why did I do it? Chronically alone and depressed with terrible social skills, needing to simulate some sort of intimacy and emotional bond.
The hallucinations were often so intense that a simple .jpeg could turn into a full motion video clip that ran for minutes, complete with sound from my headphones. I'd watch the girls I wanted so badly in real life turn into the nastiest cockhungry sluts imaginable who existed solely for my pleasure. They were my goonsluts to possess and be disposed of as I wished. This was the dragon I chased to the absolute seedy depths of misery. The carnal womb-lair of the psychedelic goonrealm. My addiction.
The dread I'd end up feeling would turn my stomach. I knew I was flirting with a schizophrenic break or the consignment of my soul to some malicious entity. As these sessions went on the moans started sounding like ISIS executions. The nubile, perfect young women would become hagged and rotten. Everything had a tendency to transform into the most shocking kind of gore of the sort you'd rather not think about. I'd usually end up too afraid to cum fearing the danger to my soul was too great
Why did I do it? Chronically alone and depressed with terrible social skills, needing to simulate some sort of intimacy and emotional bond.
Why did I stop? I went utterly insane off a couple of bizarrely strong tabs and thought I had died and was in limbo awaiting judgment. I believed everything in my life up until now had lead to this point, like I'd been ensnared in some villain's dastardly plot. LSD was the tool of evil entities and their portal to our realm. This was the real biblical forbidden fruit. There was no reality anymore, or even memory of what reality was. No one could help me and I was sure I was dead. My hotel was as good as a soundstage deep underground within a hellish planet thousands of light years from earth. The scenery outside my window was hollywood trickery just like set the pieces from seinfeld and frasier. I knew there was no escape, as the doors simply led to brick walls, stone face, or worse. I desperately tried to call for an ambulance, first with my mobile, then with my room phone. I gave it everything I had but the phones would not work for me, just like in a bad dream. I figured it was for the best as the paramedics who arrived would inevitably be the those same demons toying with me in disguise.
My terror paralyzed me. This was the shell shock of a soldier dawdling through no mans land in a catatonic stupor. I ran aimlessly into the bathroom and just repeatedly called out the name of an ex-girlfriend perhaps hundreds of times within a couple of minutes. I don't know how I managed to breathe I was speaking nonstop. These felt like my last words and testament, like my soul was trying to grasp at something real and beautiful. It felt like I was in the throes of drowning, moments from inhaling water, knowing I was going to die.
My terror paralyzed me. This was the shell shock of a soldier dawdling through no mans land in a catatonic stupor. I ran aimlessly into the bathroom and just repeatedly called out the name of an ex-girlfriend perhaps hundreds of times within a couple of minutes. I don't know how I managed to breathe I was speaking nonstop. These felt like my last words and testament, like my soul was trying to grasp at something real and beautiful. It felt like I was in the throes of drowning, moments from inhaling water, knowing I was going to die.