Saved and SAINTified (6 page)

A brief glimpse of Payton came into his mind. He gritted his teeth in anger, and then quickly refocused.

“It was in the
life
he expelled from his body into yours, and he poisoned you. It was a violation. Your temple and spirit were desecrated and your chi does not know the difference between this sort of trauma and rape. Your body and mind knows the difference, but your soul, does not. In the end, to your spirit, it all feels the same because it leaves you lesser than you were before. You have been robbed and didn’t even know it.”

He saw the light come on in some women’s eyes. He saw the re-awakening needed in order to educate
, and it spurred him on.

“It knows no difference because a trauma occurred, meaning there was defilement. You were violated, gave the green light to the shit
; you just didn’t know you had!”

His words were hitting home
.

“When he doesn’t give a shit about you, and he is on top of you, underneath you, skin to skin
—that, within itself, is contamination but then, once he is inside of you, thrusting and eventually cumming, you have become
him.
Why do you think it is called, ‘becoming as one’?! There is truth to some theological principles. Whichever one in the partnership has the more aggressive spirit will gobble and spill into the other. Typically, it is the man. That is part of the design. Since we are your protectors, we are in charge of keeping
all
aspects of you well and in good health. We also become you, ladies, to some degree, during intercourse, but if we are messed up, it isn’t enough to help or change us—and change has to be
wanted
.” He ran his hand through his hair, and continued.

“Let’s go back to my statement of becoming ‘one’. 
It’s not because you got married, it is because there is an understanding that the marriage, the union, will be consummated; so with or without a marriage certificate, your heart has told your spirit, that every man who came in you is your husband!”

At that bold admission, the w
hispering immediately began amongst the women as they looked around at each other.

“I said it before
—women,
especially
young women like you, are many times more clingy after sex and that’s why! It’s in your fucking programming because it is how you are spiritually built! The woman who can have casual sex and not care one little bit is suppressing the emotions due to trauma, not because she is a boss or some shero! You’re
not
a man, and you will never be one! And that’s beautiful! You have to be this way because you take care of us and the babies. We aren’t shit without you, but I don’t want to get off track, so back to the theology of this...” He shook his head.

“For the Christians
, it is like the story when Jesus asked a woman how many husbands she had. She said none and he corrected her, because she had slept with several! When a self-loathing man tells you to break him off a little somethin’ somethin’, he means it! He wants to break off a piece of your spirit because he needs to destroy you, in order to feel better about himself!” This was followed by applause.

“Here is the bottom line,” S
aint continued, his tone strong and authoritative. “You become ill, too, just like him. If he is emotionally damaged,
you
become emotionally damaged, and all of his hatred for himself and you, he has left inside of you. And he is relieved, because he has treated your body like a garbage can and dumped his sicknesses inside of you. That, Empresses, is your mothafuckin’ baggage!”

Another
outburst of applause.

“What happens to a trashcan filled with garbage
? It becomes unsightly. You have to clean it, scrub it and sometimes, even after all of that, there is still evidence that trash was inside of it. If you fill a container with all of the things you love, it becomes beautiful. If you love gumdrops, glitter and designer shoes and put all of that in a gift box and wrap it up, it’s just dazzling, right?”

He smiled as several women nodded.

“However, if you fill a container with everything you hate, you won’t want to look at it … and that is what happens here. I know many of you have experienced this.” He locked eyes with several of the women. “The mothafucka that doesn’t call you again after he hits, but the sex was on point  ...  you know the one.”

He pointed out into the sea of ladies.

“Once this type of man cums in you, he will not to talk to you. You’re unsightly because he’s dumped his garbage inside of you. He has used you to get that
shit,
that deep, nasty, filthy shit,” Saint gnashed his teeth as he brought his point home, “out of his body, at least for the time being. He keeps trying to fuck everything in sight to release, it because that Y chromosome in him, and how he feels about himself and women, is based on negativity and he wants to get that shit out of him! He fucking hates his ‘Y’ chromosome because he hated the goddess within—who happens to be his own mother, who gave him half of his DNA, and any woman who will lay with him!”

Once more, w
omen began to clap; some jumped out of their seats and cheered loudly.

“If you have a pussy, you’re marked for his kill. After he is done with you, you
end up feelin’ like him, too—hating yourself but you don’t know why. He knows he feels so much better once it is out of his damn body! But then, the demon regenerates and … he has to do it all over a fucking ’gin! He never addressed his issues. He just keeps runnin’ around town, fucking and fucking and fucking! He has to go out, and suck the energy out of some woman who is naïve, unaware or devalued herself to the point that she is just honored that this man wants to screw her—because she doesn’t want to see him for what he
really
is, and that is a monster.”

Saint briefly closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm down. This was one of the many topics that drove him over the edge. He was passionate about it and his research led him to this very spot, where he understood, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is what hurt people—really
hurt
people...

“
So, after he fucks you, and he doesn’t call again, it’s because you were a trash can to him. I know that it sounds mean, harsh and truly fucked up, but that’s what it is, ladies. You were a trashcan, a receptacle, for him to fill with his degenerate, foul cum and it will take you some time to get spiritually clean after that. Now,” he smiled mirthlessly as he looked down at the ground, “your Rainbeau, has to wade through all this damn baggage … because you let this disgusting creature dump his load in you.”

The room became silent again as all the pieces began to come together.

“Now, you’re afraid—which is only an excuse. You’re afraid to give yourself fully and freely to your Rainbeau, but you still expect him to wade through all that
filthy
bullshit. And he is doing it, he is, or you wouldn’t even be sitting here tonight. You’re a damn project. We all are, because trauma is a part of life. Don’t make it hard on the ones who love you though, ladies. Your Rainbeau is doing it, cleaning up the mess, because he wants you so damn badly and you won’t even let him meet your damn mother. How fucking cruel can you be? I know it isn’t on purpose—you didn’t know what you were doing—but I’m here to tell you what you’ve done, so you can stop it!”

“But
how
do we stop it? How do we get rid of it?” someone called out. The desperation in her voice let Saint know that the anonymous women knew all too well what he was saying.

“How do you sanitize yourself after something like that? First, you get up and detox. You detox your entire body, ladies. I am talking about physically because even though that relationship with that man from the past is over, he has still left his code inside of you. You first eat only
non-meat broth, fruits and vegetables, and drink water. Then, you go down to purées. Then, you go down to only liquids and once you’ve cleansed your body out, you slowly add your diet back with fresh fruits and vegetables, grains, and so forth. You have to rid your body of the toxins he has put inside of you physically
and
spiritually. Semen is protein. Protein has a clinging agent ... yet no one looked into the spiritual implications of that.”

Many women looked around the room at one another then back at Saint, totally entrenched in the information he was giving them.

“When you mix DNA with someone, they are inside of you and the only way to get rid of them is to first jump on the physical and then work your way deeper inside your spiritual center. The physical is like the orange peel. That has to be removed first, and then you get to the sweetness, the core. While you’re detoxing, there should be no intercourse, with anyone. You need to have that as a special, sacred time, just for you. If you need to do this, explain to your Rainbeau what you are doing, so he will understand in advance when you tell him that there will be no more intercourse until you get yourself together.”

There was some snickering, head shaking and frowning. “I don’t think that will go over well!” someone called out.

“It will be hard, no doubt. I didn’t say no intimacy, I said no intercourse.” He smiled. “If I could do it, you can too. I stated in two of my books, ‘The Black Vagina Vortex’ being the one with the most detailed chapter, about abstinence for cleansing. I
was
,” he cleared his throat, “I
am,
I mean, a sex addict.”

He watched the women become quiet
—their eyes fixed on him.

“I
know it sounds strange. A man who is a professional sex therapist by trade having an addiction to sex, but that is the gist of it and that is one of the many reasons, I’ve been able to help people regarding this. I understand all aspects of sex—like frigidity, for instance—due to having so many clients who suffered from this, that it is literally all you think about and you go through physical withdrawal, like a heroin addict, if you don’t get laid at least once every damn day.”

Saint was baring his soul. He knew that the information was shocking to some of the women and he knew some may even feel uncomfortable or unsure exactly what to make of him. But he had to be honest. If he wanted them to keep it one hundred, he had to extend the same courtesy.

“I’ve been through all of that, ladies. I got help for it – I understand why I was doing it, and the fact of the matter is, my drive is just as high as it was during those times of rampant promiscuity – only now, I direct that energy toward only
one
woman, my wife.”

Someone murmured, “Lucky woman. Fine ass, faithful man with a sex addiction. I don’t see the problem,” and it caused a wave of stifled laughter throughout the room.

Saint smiled but didn’t respond to it. He stayed on track, taking care of business.

“
I no longer feel empty. I’m no longer searching for someone to make me whole. I had to feel whole by myself first. I needed to get myself together. Still, I needed someone. I found her, so it’s over, me running around. I say all of this to say, that if I can abstain, to get myself pure for my mate, you can as well because I had little to no self-control whatsoever but I knew—if I didn’t get myself right, inside and out, I’d never attract her to me. If I did luck out and she came, I wouldn’t be able to keep her. I was unclean.”

He cleared his throat.

“Start reading. Start envisioning what you want your life to be like in the future. Think about the things you love, and become those things. Be proactive in your own life. By being there, you’ve stopped the random, drive-by dating. … You’ve chosen wisely, not desperately. I know each of your boyfriends personally. They were hand selected out of countless young men needing help. They are good men. Not all self-professed Rainbeaus are good men, but we don’t give all men who are non-black and date black women the title of a ‘Rainbeau’, anyway. Rainbeau is only given to a respectful, loving man who adores you. Him being White, Asian, Latino or whatever he is does not automatically make him a Rainbeau.”

“How do we know when we are ready? When are we are clean again?”
a woman called out.

“You’ll feel it
,” Saint grinned. “You will know deep inside. You’ll feel better, less tired, look better, healthier, stronger. You’ll not care nearly as much what the outside world, including your family, thinks of your relationship. For some of you, it may only take a few weeks, for others, it could take months, dare I say, even a year. It depends on the type of trash inside of you and how long it has been there and how hard you want to work to get this resolved.”

S
aint looked at them as he briefly reflected on his own relationship with Xenia. He remembered the one thing he swore he’d never tell her; he was going to take it to his grave...

That first time they’d made love, in his hotel room, he was in for a rude awakening. He’d spent six months cleansing himself
—not having sex with anyone—so that he could attract his Queen, his soulmate, Xenia. He needed to be pure and clean and wanted nothing to get in the way. After the hunt and capture, he had her in his lair. Ready to consummate the union, he prepared her for the great undertaking. As he entered her body that first time, he could feel all of her trauma and read her thoughts. That was the reason for her tears—the mind shattering orgasms she’d never experienced before sent her over the edge, but along with that, she was being cleansed, once and for all, as he connected with her spirit and her pussy, christening her and giving her, and even himself, a fresh start. The whole encounter was initially overwhelming and alarming for both of them.