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I'm married and sometimes I hate my husband!!! We both used to be very abusive to each other. For years!!! He started the abuse. However, we have both changed drastically. I mean we went from fighting every day. (Fist fighting!) Due to his lies and cheating. He was very controlling and wouldn't allow me to break up with him. I would leave and he would find and stalk me. Begging me to come back and I would go back every time bc I loved him, still do. We've been together forever, I met him when I was 14, he's 5 years older than me. Anyway, we went from fighting every day to no actual fighting just heated arguments. Which is major for us, trust me. We used to fight like cats and dogs. Anyway, we don't anymore. But, I still feel the pain in my heart and mind mainly bc of the last time he cheated. What happened was he cheated for the last time I believe like 8 years ago and got his ex pregnant. They already had 2 kids. Since, they live in a different state and she hardly lets him see the kids he had no idea she was pregnant with the third kid. During the time she was pregnant he went to jail for a year, which had nothing to do with us fighting, by the way. While he was in jail he had enough money saved so he still paid all my bills, rent included. He paid for everything. He just asked me to wait for him. Well, I did. While he was in jail he got "saved or found God." When he out out he asked me to marry him. He said: God spoke to Him and said that I was supposed to be his wife and that God showed him all the messed up and evil things that he has done to me throughout the years with all the lies, deceit, betrayal, abuse, and cheating; etc. He said: God spoke to him and told him to change or he would spend the rest of his life in jail. He hates jail. Well, long story short he told me about all the dreams and/or visions God gave him about our lives and he wrote me a letter and drew me a picture everyday while he was in jail. I listened to him, but I didn't fully believe him. I wanted him to prove that he changed and he did/has repeatedly! He has did a whole 360!!! Anyway, we got married. I didn't know he had a third child with his ex and later when he found out he was too afraid to tell me. He found out when after he got out of jail. Which explains why he wanted to get married so quickly. Anyway, he did change, but I knew there was something still bothering him. I asked and asked. But nothing. Finally, one night he says God told him to tell me. I knew something was wrong bc he never slept. Just tossed and turned all the time. So, when he told me I flipped out!!! I asked for a divorce, but he declined. So, I sought out a few different advisors and they all pretty much gave me the same advice which was to try to make our marriage work especially since he had not cheated during the actual marriage. But I felt bamboozled and devastated!!! I cried for days. So, we went to marriage counseling. He confessed to everything. How many times he cheated on me before we got married, with how many women and most importantly why he did it. Everything!!! I sat there and took it like a CHAMP! I really tried to listen like a friend instead of a wife or woman who felt totally and completely broken. Then we had a sit down with his ex. She hates me, by the way. We got down to the nitty-gritty. I mean how many times did they cheat on me together. Why did she keep the other child a secret from us? When she finally told him, why did he keep it from me? Why did she agree to keep me from knowing there was a third child after the fact? Why did they both have their other two children acting as though they did not have an extra sibling? They were all lying! She did after a while she begged him to tell me. I believe her, but she is still so "in-love" with my husband, she would do anything he says. Not her words, mine. Anyway, now they don't communicate unless I know about it. My husband has sincerely changed, but I'm stuck with all this hurt and pain!!! I'm really trying, but it is so hard. I mean he gives me the majority of his money, tells me all of his whereabouts, I have all of his passwords, he shows me all of his bank statements, he doesn't go see his kids without me, and he doesn't make moves unless I know about it. Yet, and still I am not happy!!! I feel broken!!! I am trying. But I feel like getting revenge!!! Even though I could never see myself having sex with another man. That's the truth. I just want him to hurt the way he has hurt me! I'm struggling!!! I feel like all my innocence was stripped away from me. I genuinely loved someone who didn't know how to love me bk. Now that he is so focused and getting his/our lives together, i.e. about to buy a house, we both are working a good steady jobs, in college, going to church regularly, reading the Bible, and praying together.... Now, I'm the one ready to destroy our family just to give him a taste of his own medicine bc I can't get over the past. PS I'm not an ugly person. In fact, everyone tells me on a regular how beautiful I am and I was raised that my outward beauty should match my inward beauty. So, I have always been forgiving. But now I feel like I'm being overtaken with evil and hatred even though no one knows it. I feel so stupid and stressed out! And I'm always worried that he is going to hurt me again.
So this confession isn't exactly a confession. But I want to write anonymously about how I've been hurt and how I've had nightmares over this for almost 7 years. And the minor PTSD I have learned to live with. Some may relate or you might think this isn't so bad and some have had it worst. But here it goes. I was 15 years old. I was still just a girl and at JHS where there was this boy who had just become a man. Someone who had changed my entire aspect of life and I wouldn't even realize it yet. This guy, we will call him Mason, was the first guy I tried to be serious with. Now at 15, and as a girl, you think that relationships are supposed to be like fairy tales and rainbows, but this was far from it. The beginning was magical. I was only allowed to go outside my house once a month, because my parents said that is only how many times girls should be allowed out. With Mason, I decided to sneak out and go out more than once a month. I sneaked out quite often at the time, actually. When I thought everything was going great, Mason gave me a cool looking ring. This Gothic-rustic looking ring that he told me his great-great grandmother once worn and it was sweet. And I wore it, of course. It wasn't till a month after sweet-nothings, late road trips around the town, and holding hand-in-hand together that something was the worst thing. He cheated on me with my best friend.
Now I say this was the worst thing, but being 15 and having nothing harm you or hurt you, being completely over protected from the world, this did seem like the worst thing. But what you are about to read isn't something I recommend for you to read. If you want to stay cheery and read all of the funny confessions, then just scroll on. Just don't read the rest. It's okay to not read on. After all, no one cared to hear me out for 7 years.
I screamed at him. I was furious. I had never felt such a feeling before. I was angry, I wanted to strangle him, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to run. I even yelled at her, my own friend. How could someone betray someone so terribly? But later on I found out that this had been going on for a few weeks and it wasn't just her; there were 4 other girls at this high school he had been cheating on and I wasn't even the original girlfriend.
He said that if I had sex with him, he would break it off with her and all of his other girlfriends. I was a virgin, I was emotional, I thought "If this will make the pain away, then sure." And so I agreed. In the backyard of my parent's house while my family was gone. It was painful and raw. It burned from the friction and there was no enjoyment out of it. I hated myself in the middle of this and I hated myself for too long after this.
Out of no where, I heard my mom's car pull into the drive way. I freaked out and told Mason that he has to leave. But with the garage right next to the exit of the back yard, there was no way to make a quiet escape. So we tried to stay quiet and hide against the wall, but then my mother caught us red handed. She wasn't yelling, though, she was surprisingly calm about it and seemed to not really care. But she said she was going to call my father, and that was probably why. She told Mason to get out asap and so he did.
It wasn't till I saw my father that I knew what true fear could be.
Let me stop for a second. This might have seem like a story where the boyfriend cheating on me would have also been the guy who physically or mentally abused me. But Mason looks like a super hero for what happened later was much more terrifying.
He was in the dark. Just standing there silent with his chest puffed like he was ready to strangle someone. He asked what had happened in such a dark voice that the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood. I explained that I had sex with Mason. And I don't remember much what happened after that night. It's still very blurry. I remember screaming and running from my dad. I remember him pushing me and grabbing his belt to be used more than for spankings. I remember my mom..
My mom. I remember that she saved me from that one incident. She said "It's just sex, what's the big deal? You lost your virginity at 12." And I hadn't even realized that it was over my losing my virginity.
Somehow she managed to calm him down, but they took my phone away and said I was grounded for 3 months or until further notice (meaning it could last longer).
The groundings I had were awful. They weren't little kid groundings or spoiled kid groundings where they kept their games and computers. Nah, I wasn't allowed to talk to friends, my computer was taken, my television was taken, my books were taken. I was just given a bed and if my parents were in a good mood, I would be allowed to join them for food. Otherwise, I would eat alone. I was allowed to only read the Bible, (and let's be honest, that's not the most entertaining book to read) and I did my homework. Most of the time I just read math books or science books just to switch it up. My brother got amazing groundings.. He kept his TV, his phone, his XBox... His groundings were just him in his room...
I digress.. Anyways. So I stopped talking to Mason since he didn't keep his promise (go figure) and tried to move on. I showed up to school without my school ID, and at JHS, that's immediate detention. So I had to have detention right after school ended. I didn't want my parents to worry about picking me up since my mom was out of state for work and my father was at work, so I asked some friends for a ride (I also had no way of contacting my parents since I didn't have a phone still). Everyone I knew said that their parent's weren't picking them up until 6 pm and it was 3:30 pm, so it looked like I was walking home. I didn't live too far. Just a couple of miles, it would take me like an hour or two worth of walking, so it would have been fine. I start heading out and out of no where, my father pulled up to me and screaming at me. He said that I was trying to catch a ride with Mason to take me home. I was sort of stunned, because I hadn't even talked to Mason in about a week, and I was trying to figure out how this assumption was just made.
He whipped out my phone and showed me a text directly from Mason saying "Hey, I heard you needed a ride home. If you want, I can give you a ride."
I didn't have my phone on me so it wasn't as if I could have known about this text and Mason wasn't anywhere near me where my father found me, so there was no need to freak out. But he screamed at me to get in the car, and as a good little daughter, I did.
And I sure wish I didn't... Maybe I wouldn't have so many nightmares and paranoid thoughts...
He was driving so fast. It was only 65 MPH on the highways but it felt much faster. Maybe it was all the screaming and questions he was asking me.
Father said, "Why did you ask Mason for a ride?!"
"I didn't! I asked some other friends, I didn't even see Mason there!" I exclaimed.
"LIAR!" He yelled. Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, "Why lie?! I already caught you! Just admit it! JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
But I had. I didn't know how else to get him to believe me. I just kept telling him the truth over and over and over again but it wasn't the right answer.
We got home. I was even more scared now the car ride ended. He got out of the car, ran over to my door before I could even get out, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car.
This wasn't my father. This wasn't the same guy that helped me scratch off "owies" or the same guy that taught me to ride a bike. I had no idea who this guy was. His eyes.. They were so cold and dead. They were so evil.
My arm. It hurt so bad. I got a bruise from how hard he grabbed me. He shoved me into the house and started yelling "TELL ME THE TRUTH! TELL ME THE TRUTH!" over and over again. I told him the full story and it wasn't enough. He somehow couldn't believe it. I was somehow lying and that my honesty was not real.
He got quiet. He looked over and saw a full load of laundry in the laundry basket all neatly folded and slightly over-spilling. And I was so curious as of why he was eyeballing it so often.. He grabbed the full loaded basket and threw it at me like pitching a baseball.
Now you may think "oh, just a laundry basket?" But this laundry basket weighed a good 10 pounds (easily more). And if something being thrown at you going at such a speed, it can feel harder than what it actually is.
For example, a baseball on average weighs about 5.25 oz, and the average potato weighs 5.3 oz and a large potato can weigh 8 oz. My father took a large potato and threw it at my mother's shoulder like a baseball... It dislocated her shoulder from how close he was to her and how fast he threw it.. She was left with a huge bruise for so weeks.
With someone that can throw that hard, I don't feel too embarrassed by saying that I got a big bruise from a full loaded laundry basket.
I fell. I tried to gather myself up, but he knocked me back on the ground anyways. He stood over my legs so I knew not to try to get back up and I watched him take his belt off. He doesn't just use his belt for spankings...
He started yelling at me again to tell him the truth, and I gave him the same answer, 'cause I couldn't think of a lie on the spot, and it wasn't the right answer.
Why could it not be the right answer? It was the truth! He wanted the truth! I gave it to him! I told him! I yelled it to him! I screamed and yelled the truth! And it was NEVER the right answer!
It gave me a flashback from when I was a little girl, only 4 years old, and my parents said that "as long as you tell us the truth, you will never be in trouble." And it was that exact flash back that made me feel.. It made me give up.
I screamed. I cried. He hit my leg! MY LEG! My left leg was more blue than my actual skin color. I hadn't seen such a big bruise in my life.
"WHY? WHY ARE YOU HITTING MY LEG?" I screamed. He just kept hitting me.
I screamed more and more and he said "Because you lied!"
"But I didn't!" I started sobbing and screaming "I didn't!" and he was about to hit me again and I yelled "I WANT MOM!"
And he stopped. For just a second I could breathe. I was allowed to breathe for just.. a second... I was thinking 'maybe I can call mom! She'll save me! She won't let him kill me!'
It was quiet for too long. One second too long.
And he finally spoke "Oh, Sara.. Your mother isn't here to save you this time! I am so tired of you getting away with so much bull sh** and when I try to punish you it's always your mom that saves you! Oh but not this time, Sara dear! You're finally getting what you deserve!"
My hope was shattered..
And he went at it again.. It continued for way too long.. I still have nightmares about this night. I remember exactly what he was wearing... How his hair looked. Which direction I was thrown. I can point out the exact location from the high school where he picked me up.
He was wearing dark brown shoes. The same ones he wore to work everyday cause they look nice with every outfit he wore. His shirt was a polo striped shirt. Brown and tan stripes.. And Khakis... And that belt.
I worked at night shifts Wal-Mart one summer to stalk the shelves and I couldn't stalk the men's department. Specifically the belts. When I touched one, I cried. I didn't even realize I was crying. It was just the touch of it..
The dark brown belt. It was so smooth. It had a nice brass buckle on it that looked nice but didn't feel nice when it hit you, too.
My brother arrived from school.. I screamed to him "CALL THE POLICE! CALL THE POLICE! DAD IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
But my brother was just as scared of him as I was. My brother just went into his room and hid. He was only 12, but I hated him for it for a long time..
My father had convinced him to stay out of it and when my father decided to catch his breath, I decided to try to make my escape. I wasn't sure where yet, but I had to at least get out of his reach. The door to the outside was too close, that he would easily stop me. I ran to the bathroom, to try to lock the door. It was far enough that maybe he wouldn't reach me in time for me to lock the door.
He turned his back. That was my chance! I got up and ran right into the bathroom before he did!
My hands were so shaky and my legs were so beaten on that I could hardly run as fast as I normally could.
I didn't close the door fast enough. I tried to just use my body as a weight to keeping the door closed but he was three times my size and weight. It didn't matter. He got inside the bathroom and told me to go to my room.
I ran inside my room and tried to close the door but he came in anyways.. And it happened again. He took his belt and hit my arms, my legs, my side. He hit my face. He was physically on top of me so I couldn't run away this time.
When fight or flight comes to play, and you aren't allowed to flight, you have no other option but to instinctively fight back. I never wanted to hurt my father. I used to cry when a cute butterfly died or if I accidentally hurt a frog. I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I didn't have control of myself at this point. I was just screaming and crying and I used what I had - my nails.
I clawed at my dad so often that I drew blood on him. I scratched his face, his arms, anywhere I could in hopes that it would get him off me so I could run away.
And after so many hours of being hit.. It finally happened. He got off of me and stopped hitting me. I waited to hear a sink running and I ran out the front door. I still had my shoes on and I didn't have a phone but I ran anyways.
The neighborhood was pretty open, there weren't many places to hide, but as long as I was in a public place, he wouldn't touch me. He would put on his "I am the fun sporty coach of a dad!" act. He found me not so long of me running. I was so exhausted from being hit in the legs, my legs were already throbbing without me needing to try to run on them. He asked me where I was going and I told him my friend's house.
Instead, I went to the closest restaurant and asked for their phone. I called Mason (I know, it wasn't a good idea, but he was the only one with a car that I knew) and asked him to take me to the police station, cause my father had seriously bruised me everywhere.
When I got there, I filed a report. I called my mom and told her everything and my first thought was "Finally! My mom! She can save me! She'll listen to me and we can make dad go away forever!"
She called my aunt and uncle to have them pick me up and then my father showed up at the police station to write out his side of the story.
He had quite the advantage. The odds that adults are going to listen to a 15 year old *girl*. I didn't realize it then, but the odds were stacked quite against me.
He lied to police. He told them that I was just a delusional 15 year old girl with teenage girl hormones that made me over exaggerate what was happening. The police and every adult ever bought his story. I showed the police my bruises and they asked him to explain it.. He said that "Well she was just disobeying and I had to discipline her, but she wouldn't stay still." And all my chances of being free from this wicked man were gone... He was a snake.. He had everyone around his finger. He called my mom and told her the same lie, so my mom stopped believing anything I said. He even added "Since she is so delusional, maybe we should take her to Laureate." Laureate is the psych ward in town. He had managed to take everything I said that was true about him and twist it into what made him look like the good guy and made me sound like an over dramatic teenager.
For years my mother looked at me like I was "not all there" and my brother decided to add onto my father's lie, because he was so scared of him, himself.
Two years after the incident, my parents got a divorce. My mom caught my father cheating on her.
My whole family still looking at me funny and still not talking to me.
For 4 years my mother didn't believe a single small thing I would even say, even after the divorce and her catching all of his lies. No one believed my warnings for four years.
Until it happened again.
My brother... I would never wish that kind of abuse on anyone.
After four long years of being silenced, of being treated like I was insane, of being treated like I was less than a person. For FOUR YEARS of not talking to anyone because my father told my friends at school and the school principle and anyone I ever knew.
For four years.. I can't even count how many times I got close to suicide over this. But I was too scared to actually do it myself. I tried to put myself in dangerous situations so maybe someone else would have done it for me. Maybe someone would be drunk and drive into me. Maybe I would fall asleep at the wheel. Nothing worked though. I stopped trying when I got to college.. I was safe there.. I think that's all I wanted..
For four years... My brother still was too scared to tell anyone what happened to me...
Four years after the incident, it happened again.. Almost the same exact word-for-word story I told my mom...
I got a phone call while I was in my dorm watching some tv and my mom told me the most great and horrendous news. "Sara, I.. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you all those years ago." I immediately sat up, wondering if she meant... "You were right. What happened to you, I should have listened. I am so sorry. I had no idea that your father actually did that to you, and I am so sorry that I didn't listen to you."
I immediately cried. I couldn't help it. Having your own mother think you are insane or like there is something wrong with you hurts so much... And it was like a weight was lifted off that I started sobbing. My next thought was, 'wait... why is she believing me now out of all these years?' so I asked "Wait, what happened? Why do you believe me now?"
I was hoping for more of a "Your father confessed" kind of thing, but I suppose that was hopeful.
"Sara.. I am so sorry. But your brother.. he was just beaten by your father and what he told me is almost exactly what had happened to you..."
I sank. I cried even more. My brother?! I had refused to see my father after the divorce, and still refuse, but maybe if I had gone to see him. Maybe if I kept him in my life it wouldn't have been my brother. I would much rather it be me.
My father stalked me, tested me, hit me, and did everything to keep me always on my toes.. I still get nightmares till this day and when I am having a normal day, I swear I can see him watching me. It's like I see his actual physical self right there, but when I look again he isn't there. I hate that my brother had those nightmares to share and he feels paranoid still that father is around somewhere..
I feel like I see him so often. On a bus.. In the car in front of me, in the truck behind me.
When I see his name, I immediately think back to the incident..
I can hardly live like this... I am about to graduate from college with a BSCS and I am still scared.. He facebook messaged me asking to go to my graduation, but I can't. I can't do it. People think I am being some selfish child that won't see her father, but I can't. I can't do it, and for my own mental health, I refuse..
#physical #mental #abuse #stalk #stalking #scared #ptsd #emotional
I kicked my mother in her stomach. She pushed me to that point. She's abusive and has been unloving. My childhood and adulthood have been miserable. I just couldn't take it anymore. I feel bad now.
I was abused by a man in the cinema when I was 12 and I actively cooperated. This man came and sat beside me in this almost empty cinemea which I thought odd. Then I felt somoene stroking my bare leg very softly. I was frozen at frst but it began to feel pleasant and as the hand moved further up it felts more pleasant. when He ran hs hand up my shorts leg and touched my pants I was quite excited and he felt my cock through my pants which was driving me wild. By then he had me so sexed up that I raised my ass of the seat undid my shorts and slippe shorts and pants down to give him clear acess to my little dick and spread my legs as wide as I could. He was very good slow and gentle not hard and quick the way my friends did me, I was more sexed up than I had been before how I kept silent I do not know as I came to a shattering orgasm. I was 12 and prepubescent fortunately othere wise there would have been a big mess. The guy gave a litte laugh and got up and left leaving me shaking with my pants round my ankles and my legs spread.
My bf has been hitting me and "punishing" me in a non-sexual way... but I like it
I beat my girlfriend more than a few times. She didn’t deserve it, and I’m sorry for any unhappiness or feelings that it may have caused her.
I hate my father and my sister my father would tell both of us he would spank us if we got out if bed my sister did this several times and git nithing I did this once and got a belt he was also very abusive as a result I am a very hatful and angry person I am told I have issues j don't know what to do the smallest things make me lash out and scream once I even got my brother with a socket wrench
My father use to be a pastor, and then he killed someone.
He was always really violent when he got angry, and it was hard to control him after that. He wasn't entirely abusive, but when he was mad, boy, was he a monster.
It didn't come to me as a surprise when I came home one day from school and the house was surrounded with people and police.
Dad apparently killed someone who accused him of lying about something. I was only 8, so I never really understood what exactly happened, and I never tried to even as I grew up.
My mom acted like it never happened, maybe it was her way of protecting me and my little brother.
She remarried 3 years later, but I hated her new husband and his daughter like crazy. They just drove me insane. I was really jealous because they seemed like the perfect family, and truth be told, his daughter was a total bitch.
I just started googling what I could do to get rid of them. There was divorce, lie about him raping me, and murder. No way in hell was I going to jail, though.
Luckily for me, they both loved to eat apples.
Everyday I would dig the trash out for the cores they threw out and collected the seeds.
I'd mash them up and flavour the mix, then sprinkle it on whatever they had to eat for the day.
When my stepfather died, the autopsy said they died of intoxication via apple seeds.
Everyone assumed it was because they ate too much apples, little did they know..
I kind of regret it now, but I eventualy found out my stepdad was cheating on my mother and was a bit abusive to her emotionally.
I guess I did a good job.
I am 18 and I started having sex a year ago with my boyfriend. I did everything for him, anything he wanted sexually, some very perverted things, but I did anything for him. I wanted to make him happy, I thought he would marry me if I did everything he wanted. He started several months ago, stretching me, first in my vagina, then in my butt. He started putting bigger and bigger things inside me in both places, he started with my vagina and as I got stretched out he wanted more and more anal sex which was fine with me. He got to where he could put a 1 liter bottle in both of my holes at the same time, and I let him take pictures of me. I got his name tattooed on my above my cooch. Once he had what he wanted, he said I was too loose for him, or any other man for that matter, and he dumped me. I'm trying like crazy to get my tightness back but I'm still loose and and I gape open. I found out I was nothing to him at all, just an experiment to see how far he could take things with me. It was all a sham and now I'm all alone, and everyone knows what a slut I acted like for him (and his friends), and now I'm too loose in both holes to get anyone who would be interested in me.
My Father used to physically abuse my half-brothers a lot. He slapped one of them so herd he left a hand print on his face. He shoved my brothers head through a wall. He once broke my mothers nose. He purposely cuts my dogs nails so short she would bleed because he was mad at her. My mother knew about this so she kept me away from him. He still hurt me mentally. He is the reason i have to take anti-depressants now. I don't see him anymore but he's old and I'm afraid hell die before I'm ready to talk to him.
this person on simply confess has been implying that colby brock had a baby to some woman who is 50 something and I don't know if it is louise or rose they seem to be making out all these things from some aboriginal group and I reported them today anyway. what greedy bitches those two sluts are anyway.
My first day of kindergarten, my teacher Mr.Joel says "Alright we are going on a field trip to the national park ,so I need a girls to board the bus first then boys!"
I wasn't paying attention and I got on the bus first. Mr Joel approached me and sarcastically ask."Excuse me Gregory, are you a girl or boy? "I don't know I said". That moment , that question confused the fuck out of me for the rest of my life. I mean i have a penis but I don't like to look at it because it looks icky. My mom was shitting on the toilet and I was standing in the doorway naked when I was 3 years old telling her I pooped my diaper and all she said was ah fuck not again just like fucking father and she slammed the door and my penis got caught in between it. I screamed and my neighbors took me to the hospital because my mother refused to drive drunk and high. The doctors put ice on it and sent me home. But by the time we got home my mom was asleep so my neighbors made me sleep when there son picaru was two years older the me. I didn't sleep Much that night cause picaru kept sticking Lego's and a hot wheels cars up my butthole and he would tie string around my injured penis and attach to a fishing rod and he would yank hard and reel it up until the line broke. Everytime I screamed he told his parents I was having bad dreams so his dad took off my clothes and laid me on his lap in the living room while we both watched the entire Andy Griffith show season one all night. He didn't molest me or assault me but he did kiss me on the lips a lot and call me 'judy Ann' and 'honey' a lot. Judy Ann was his dead wife's name.fucked up part is the when he drove me to the hospital he hit my dog spider and he promised he would check on him once we got back. I never saw spider again :(.
#death #assault #abandoned #injury #abuse #drugs #trauma #transgender
Hello all, I'm a Mid 30's married British Indian guy with a below average cock. My wife is gorgeous thick Indian woman size 14 38dd's and extremely vanilla! It's taken me years to get her into toys. the thought of another cock scares her! But I would love her to be a full size queen at the command of a real bull with a proper cock to satisfy her with. While I'm locked in chastity and humiliated. I think of all the fucked up shit I would have to do, get her ready to be fucked, bathing her shaving her getting her best lingerie ready that she only wears for a bull never for me... only for it to come back ruined after she has been used! Be their personal slave and errand boy obeying every humiliating command given. Guiding big dicks into her, lining them up before gaping her ass licking her pussy as she gets fucked, cleaning up her creampies. I fantasise about my humiliation, forced bi, only being able to fuck her using the bulls used condom, getting them to cum over my pillow ... work clothes etc. Watching them fuck and cumming over her wedding rings only to make her sick up all the cum!
I don't know why this turns me on so much but it does!
Is this normal??
#slave #humiliated #humiliation #wife #cuckold #husband #indian #british #degraded #used #abused #bull #sph #tiny
I was walking home from work night and I passed by my sister's house and heard her screaming at someone to stop so I quietly opened her door (which I have a key to btw) and saw her getting beat by her boyfriend, I then came behind him threw him on the ground and I started punching him he took out a pocket knife and stabbed my leg. My sister started to dial 911 but he punched her out and broke her phone. I took the knife out of my leg and slit his neck. I called 911 and they placed me in a holding cell. They told me they're gonna keep me here for 25 years unless someone pays my bail. Three days later my bail was paid I figured it was one of my friends but when I got home my sister was on my couch holding a welcome home sign. She hugged me and we invited family over and had a party.
#murder #protecting #sister #abuse #jail
this is not a sin on my end, but it is something that i desperately need off my chest. my ex-girlfriend verbally/emotionally and sexually abused me. occasionally it was consensual (kissing etc), but she would make me do things i would never do (i am asexual). she told me that if i told her to stop one more time she’d tell everyone i was nothing but a put out, for attention. she would yell at me, and if i didn’t cry, she’d cheat on me. she cheated on me constantly, and never let me get angry, for if i did she would hurt me. i was too afraid to break up with her, but once i did, things got worse. i admitted to one of her friends what had happened, but he told me i was making it up. i was just trying to get her in trouble, i was just trying to play victim. now my ptsd is worse than it has ever been. i don’t know what to do now. she is trying to ruin my life.
I was in love with my friend freshman year. Fully, whole-heartedly in love. She knew it, and she used me. I was her proxy for verbally abusing our social group, so she could seen like the innocent saint. I would have died for her. She threw me away because I was depressed. I hate her now as much as I loved her then. I look back and see her as the selfish hypocrite she really was. Love really does make you blind. Never fall in love with a sociopath.
#abuse #manipulation #hate #love #sociopath #loyalty #liar #lies #sad
Some of you people are gross for wanting to sleep with blood relatives or parents and their children. Go get therapy. You are f- up in the head. There are 1001 people in the sea. Don’t disgrace and dishonor your family. It is wrong. Your soul will go to hell for it.
I was born in Nepal and in 1984 I was sent to Kathmandu to work in a factory, I was 12 years old. My brother went to school in Nepal but I was sent to work making money for family. Somehow one of the owners of the factory became my guardian along with another girl named Ruchita who was 11. The man who was our guardian began abusing us right away, his name was Ranjan. The first time he took us to his house he made both Ruchita and myself strip naked and bathe while he stood watching us, it was one of the most humiliating days of my young life. It was a small house and Ranjan's bedroom was across from the one Ruchita and I shared with only a curtain covering the doorway. Some days we were forced to stay naked and by the time the first week passed we had also seen Ranjan naked many times. If he became angry with either of us he would spank us with a switch always having us naked. Then he began making Ruchita or me go into his room at night where he taught us how to masturbate him. It soon led to him forcing us to give him oral sex with the threat of a beating if we didn't comply with his wishes. As this was going on he also touched us in our privates and over time began penetrating us vaginally and anally. By the time I was 13 I was no longer a virgin and Ruchita and I were taking turns sleeping with Ranjan a few nights a week. By that time both of us girls were dominated by him so badly that we just obeyed him since the the older we got the more severe the beatings became. I was 14 the first time Ranjan brought another man to the house and he was from England. I never considered it but today am convinced that man and two other men were paying Ranjan to have sex with Ruchita and me. It seemed like once a week one of those men came at night and I was ordered to have sex with them any way they wanted. There was one of them in particular who was extremely cruel forcing us to submit to rough sex and there were times when he would have both of us at the same time. There was no one to complain to because girls had no rights and no way to escape the situation. I was abused and beaten up until I was almost 20 years old. A man I knew from the factory helped me get to an agency that helped women. I tried to get Ruchita to come with me but she was to afraid fearing how we would be punished if Ranjan found out. I hid and moved around for almost a year before I was able to get into the US and became a legal citizen 10 years ago. Even today girls are being abused in Nepal and no one seems to care. Most girls and women are forced to work and most of the men I have ever met in Nepal or Kathmandu are pigs including my father, brother, and especially Ranjan who was the cruelest man I ever met.
I'm 21 years old now. I live in India.
When I was 11 years old, my neighbor (a gay - 19 years old then) made me suck his cock & he sucked mine. I started avoiding him from that day. I saw him again after 3 days. I gave him an angry stare. He left me alone after that owing to the fact that my dad is a powerful guy & if he knew the abusers life will be over.
I read in many articles that people abused as kids will hate sex/gays etc. But I don't hate them, I support LGBT & I am straight. The incident never affected me. (Except I learnt karate & silambam - a South Indian martial arts using sticks. I learnt them when I was 13 like crazy until I was sure I could take on atleast 6 guys alone, so I could destroy him when time comes. But I gave up the idea as years passed.)
He is married now (an arranged marriage - poor woman).
I am a engineer by profession & a researcher in my free time. My inner conscience forgave him. I hope he never cross my life again. If he does, that will be the biggest mistake of his life.
I am going out of my mind trying to find anyone interested in keeping me in a strong, rubber-lined bag, for long periods of time. Age, gender, appearance, unimportant - they need only to be dominant, sadistic, cruel, merciless, and preferably very horny! There is a small zippered opening at my mouth, for fellatio, and another one lower down where my goodies can be pulled outside and snugged round the roots. Willing and able to give virtually unlimited fellatio, and open to cbt, milking, orgasm denial or delay, rape, you name it! Group, couple, single, TV, Cross-dresser, whatever. The longest I have been confined so far is a 3-day weekend, but I think my limits are probably higher than that, with the right person(s) You would think SOMEONE would realize the possibilities/opportunities in a situation like this, but so far no takers! Help!!
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