Shadow Creeks Mental Asylum

I’m Ashley Purdy, I’m seventeen, and I’m a sex addict.

I lost my virginity when I was in sixth grade. Very young, I know. It was to an older girl, a girl named Heather. She was the most popular girl in the eighth grade, and she convinced me to sleep with her. Being in sixth grade, I didn’t know what I was doing completely, but I got the hang of it.

After that, sex was all I wanted. I loved the feeling it brought to me. I’d go home to sit on my dad’s laptop, browsing the porn sites he frequented. From time to time, I’d steal his Playboy magazines, and jack off to them.

I was sleeping with girls a lot older than me, mostly seventh and eighth grade girls at the time. When high school hit, well, let’s just say it was a hay day for me.

I was only a freshman, yet I was tapping some of the hottest ass from the senior class. Girls were lining up, left and right, just to get with me, knowing I wouldn’t be able to say no.

For prom, even though I wasn’t supposed to go, I still was admitted, and needless to say, I
had more than one date. I didn’t think it was possible for me to become addicted to sex, but it happened. I loved the feelings I got and I loved hearing the girls beneath me, begging for more.

Against my parents’ wishes, I went out, and had OUTLAW tattooed across my stomach,
which just turned the girls on even more. Sophomore year came and went, and I had nearly failed my classes. I just couldn’t focus. In class, I’d check out every girl, and if there was a new girl to show up, you could bet I’d be the first person to know her.

Soon, I had to branch out from my school and find girls from other schools, and in order to
do that, I had to join a team. So I joined football and soccer, both which traveled to neighboring schools, and further.

At every game, I’d fake an excuse to go off and end up slamming a few chicks. The other guys envied how I had girls eating out of the palm of my hand.

This addiction came back to bite me, however, the summer before my junior year.

A girl who I had slept with about two months ago had called me to ask if we could go at it again. I obliged, and she came over. But instead of dropping her pants for me, she dropped a pregnancy test in my hands and it revealed a pink plus sign.

I backed away, my whole body shaking. My urge to obtain what I wanted had caused me to forget a condom, and now, I was going to be a father. Or was I?

I denied it being mine, and told her to get away from me. Later that day, I told my parents about my problem, and they dropped me off here.

Now, here I am, about seven months later. Still no word on whether or not Becka kept the child, but I really hoped she didn’t. I wasn’t going to be a father anytime soon.

I spend my days here, sometimes engaging in conversations with my roommate, Andy. He’s a skinny little fuck, probably weighs less than a bag of chips. Sometimes, I leave my cell to go to counseling, and sometimes, I just walk through the halls and stare at some of the other freaks. I’m not the only sex addict in here, there’s probably five or six more, three boys, and two or three girls. Boy, what I’d do to get my hands on one of those girls.

See, even though I had been here for seven months, I hadn’t changed. Sure, I had been drugged up like no other, and even put through shock therapy, but there was no escaping my urges. I wasn’t even allowed to masturbate, which was a true challenge. And they seemed to know when I did, which was cause for punishment, typically a few days in a holding cell by myself.

This place, though it may be called a mental asylum, was my true prison.