Citation: D X Meth-Head. "We Want Your Seed: An Experience with 2C-B (exp115239)". Erowid.org. Mar 18, 2021. erowid.org/exp/115239
2C-B, We Want Your Seed
4-bromo substituted phenethylamines, my favourite. After an initial ingestion of 19mg of 4-bromo-2,5-dimethoxyphenethylamine, I embarked in to the depths of erotica which have long been repressed in my sexually impoverished psyche. Noted below are transcripts of notes written during this experience, and some comments for clarification of what I intended to say.
A middle-aged Indian man, with an endomorphic plumpness to him entered in my field of view, whilst moaning the words "We want your seed", erratically pointing towards my testes, implying that he was so hungry that he would eat my testicular ejaculate, all said in the least sexual and imploring tone imaginable. He was so desperate for food for himself and family that the last resort for food was my own semen. The words "ve vant vour seeeeed" raged in my auditory-perception cavities, with each 'w' in 'we' and 'want' being replaced with a voiced labiodental fricative 'v'. As time passed, all I could hear was the thick monotony of this man screaming 'seeeeeed'
As time passed, all I could hear was the thick monotony of this man screaming 'seeeeeed'
, with an annoyingly high-pitched sonorant 'eeeeeeee'. A thousand pigs in unison with an Indian accent, or so it sounded. "SEEEEEEEEED, VE VANT YOUR SEEEEEED." (Disclaimer, I am Keralan myself, perhaps my heritage is psychologically ingrained in to my consciousness, doubt it.)
Once this hallucination passed, I decided to wank to nothing but my own thoughts, but was so involved in the robotic rigour of shifting my left hand up and down over my phallus that I ripped my foreskin. I bled, which hurt, but phallic bleeding has a dual-purpose of lubrication, which eased the pain. Wanking on drugs is great, usually. Mephedrone masturbation is unrivalled. Seriously.
Nothing else too exciting occurred, I pissed into a bottle and threw the piss out my window as I wanted to spare the embarrassment of having to see my housemates to get to my bathroom whilst off my nut on 2C-B. I listened to Massive Attack's 'Blue Lines' about 7 times as it was the only album I could remotely tolerate in this state of psychedelic impregnation.
I feel incredibly, incredibly confused. I hate sex, the idea of it makes me cringe, I feel its almost paradoxical by its very nature. What purpose does it hold? I don't want kids, never will do. It doesn't feel that great neither. Unless I'm psychologically disabled, which I admit is a huge possibility, in fact its inevitable. Despite this, 2C-B offered a glimpse of the depths of human to human erotica in the form of a hungry Indian man wanting to ingest my semen. Perhaps its a subconscious reflection of that fact that food shortage is inevitable during this pandemic, and that one day I will have to rely on the nutrition of my Spermatazoa. Maybe I should start a new thread: 'How to become an autotroph - 10 new semen recipes for you and family to enjoy'. I doubt it'll take hold.
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