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Perhaps, it was because her life had been so smooth that she harboured a secret little hunger. Yeah, Mike challenged, what are you wearing right now? Once or twice, in the middle of the day, she even had to sneak in to some bathroom and quickly masturbate. They were the Linsey project, and there were six of them. After all, guys with identical interests, the same sorts of nasty, misogynous tastes in women, it was nice to go to a strip club, tip a beer and fuck with some desperate stripper. A black steelworker, a computer nerd, a mechanic and so on.... Mike had introduced some real time friends to the chatroom. Hmmm, Zacc said, we should put that one in the maybe category. They had, by this time, a very detailed description of her appearance, not quite enough for a police sketch artist, but getting better all the time. * * * * * * * * * Ian had been sitting at the skytrain gate to Metrotown reading the same damned newspaper for four hours. All the things he could be doing today, instead, he was here wasting his time on the off chance that some blonde bitch might be passing by. A tall blonde, maybe 5'7" without her heels, paused on the platform. Her gaze swept over him, indifferent, didn't linger. Keep fucking dancing you stupid cunt, Peter yelled. Over her, she heard Peter and Ian chuckling and felt shame. He reached down and loosed a stream of pure urine that landed mere inches from her face. It was dirty, she could feel the dirt, the grit on her tongue. She wanted to vomit, but instead, she obediently licked away, sticking her tongue out and giving the filthy boots long wet licks. She studied his face, searching for any hint of deception. He shifted in his chair, his cock rigid again, as an iron bar. He had the stupid bitch just about convinced that it wasn't rape at all, that it was her fault. Her face was ashen, but she nodded, barely registering him. He had her lie with her face in his lap, another deliberate humiliation, explaining that he didn't want her to see his neighborhood... He let her out on the busy street, and then, just as she took too steps away, he called her back, to demand a kiss. She didn't masturbate, of course, she didn't dare confront that.
I also share an important part of my own recovery that will hopefully help you get clear on overcoming the injustices, envy and distaste of ‘the narcissist’s great life’, because I know it can be difficult to let go of resentment, especially if your life has been severely diminished practically, and financially since separating from the narc.