Chapter 1

Serotonin, oxytocin, dopamine, and endorphins are the brain chemicals responsible for our mood.

In a study published in the Journal of Psychiatry and Pseudoscience, happiness, as reported by study participants, is positively correlated with higher levels of serotonin synthesis in the right anterior cingulate cortex of the brain.

Oxytocin, the trust chemical. This brain chemical creates intimacy and is released when we orgasm. It is a hormone that facilitates social bonding. As humans are social animals, touch can serve as a way to create bonds and encourage cooperation. A study has found that a massage can increase levels of oxytocin and decrease levels of adrenocorticotropin hormone.

Dopamine is released when you love something or someone. When you are doing something you love. We normally think of dopamine as the happiness drug. However, that’s a big misconception. Dopamine is actually involved more with anticipation than the actual “happiness” feeling.

Endorphins ... these feel-good chemicals are associated with the “fight or flight” response ... Opioids such as heroin, morphine, and fentanyl are pharmacological mimickers of the natural endorphins.

Ah, if only I had read Psychology Today or the Journal of Psychiatry and Neuroscience when I was—Hmm, not sure exactly when I would have to go back to. At twelve, I remember doing things that were indicators of a problem, but if my brain wasn’t producing the correct amount of chemicals required to feel good without doing those things, could I have changed anything?

Would I have prevented what any sane person would consider the worst thing that could happen to a girl?

All these years later, I can still close my eyes and re-experience the excited anticipation of that day. I can feel the thrill that warms my insides, the nervous energy that makes me moist, and the rush of blood that comes with shock and terror.

My nerves tingle, and my heart races. Even though I know what’s coming, exactly what will happen, my brain gradually takes me from concern to worry and on to fear. Anticipatory juices seep from my vagina, and I relive the powerful orgasms that I shouldn’t have had.

Finally, I’m rocketed into blinding terror. The only things I don’t experience again are the jerking sobs of regret that came after. Wasn’t it the worst thing that ever happened to me?

If I could go back in time, what would I change? Back then, as a somewhat reckless teenager, searching for something, anything to fill the void I always seemed to feel and give me the pleasure I saw others experiencing:

Thank God, I thought; finally, I can drive with the top down. The sun was hot on my skin while a swirling breeze kept me cool. I set the speed control and planted my feet close to the seat, pushed down, and lifted my ass. I pulled the stretchy skirt up around my hips and glanced down at my exposed pussy.