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The other night I (F13) was at my friend's house, let's call him Tim. Well I am pretty confident in my lifting ability so I asked him to wrap his arm around my neck so that I could pick him up princess style. Well I successfully picked him up, but farted really loudly in the process. There were two other people there and everyone blamed it on someone else. I have been spared for now.
To put it simply, I have an addiction to flashing my breasts to men in public. It's extremely exciting knowing that I am being lusted after because of it. Anytime I go somewhere, I flash my breasts at least 3 times. I am writing here because the last time I flashed my breasts in public, an older woman approached me and lectured me about protecting my modesty and went as far to call me a whore. I guess some people don't see it as morally correct, so here's my confession.
I'm 17 and he's 27. It's normal but it's illegal? How can I not have sex with who I want, but I can go to war with who I don't want? So I get nasty and masturbate on cam to the world. I started when I was 15 but just now speaking up. It's my pussy and I will do with it as I see fit. It's all a bunch of lies.
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
My mom got anger with me for not bringing my swimsuit and made me go skinny dipping. I spent the rest of the afternoon naked in front of all the other kids. I was 10.
A young man was showing off his new sports car to his girlfriend. She was thrilled at the speed.
"If I do 200mph, will you take off your clothes?" he asked.
"Yes!" said his adventurous girlfriend.
And as he gets up to 200, she peeled off all her clothes.
Unable to keep his eyes on the road, the car skidded onto some gravel and flipped over. The naked girl was thrown clear, but he was jammed beneath the steering wheel.
"Go and get help!" he cried.
"But I can't. I'm naked and my clothes are gone!"
"Take my shoe", he said, "and cover yourself."
Holding the shoe over her pubes, the girl ran down the road and found a service station. Still holding the shoe between her legs, she pleaded to the service station proprietor, "Please help me! My boyfriend's stuck!"
The proprietor looked at the shoe and said, "There's nothing I can do...he's in too far."
#embarrassment #shoe #car #crash #boyfriend
I (female) don't talk to my father for 2 years now. He such a greasy old man, I can't stand him. But what I found out a few days ago, gives me even more reason to hate him.
My parents often fight about different things but they are still married. After an argument, my father often disappears and went somewhere else. A few days ago, I got curious and followed him. After following him around for a couple of minutes, he stopped at the house of his colleague. She opened him the door and they kissed!!
I made a photo of it and sent it to our pastor. My parents are reputable people in our church and I guess my father won't be much longer in our parish council. I hope he also lose his job because of this affair.
And hopefully my mother will finally understand what an asshole he is.
#father #church #affair #fight #argument #kiss #pastor #confession
Im done with the government. High cost of living. Treating us like machines designed to serve for their shit. All we do is work for them. Taking away all means of entertainment they can't tax. Importing foreigners and squeezing millions on this already packed island. Doubling personal vehicles prices, houses, everything out of earning money. Squeezing every last bit of our pocket money to theirs. And what they do to protect their money they taken away from us? Locked us up and train for 2 years to be soldiers. Don't even mention about freedom, we can't even chew gums or smoke anywhere without worrying. Im done. From now on, i pledge to take back whats rightfully mine. An eye for an eye.
My significant other thinks I am a bit corpulent therefore she registered me in a gym. My confession is that I haven't used any of the fitness equipment yet. I spend all my time in the spa area like the sauna.
I'm 5'10 and weigh 154 lbs, that's not fat!
#corpulent #fat #weight #fitness #gym #equipment #confession
I am mentally disturbed and I can't think faster than I can type into a calculator.
I don't know why but I hate all people who don't like long hair or who don't want to have long hair or who cut their hair short.
Even men. I hate them!
I'm attracted to women whose ears have a combination of round, smooth tops and a deep, dramatic valley in the bowl of their ear. See Evangeline Lilly's ears for an example of this. From an early age of being hearing impaired and wearing hearing aids, I loved the feeling of my ears being plugged up. I've put play doh, silly putty, and eventually, medical-grade silicone in my ears. My gf and I make molds of each other's ears before/during sex.
I’m a twenty eight year old guy who has been living a secret life for the past five years. When I was twenty three I had graduated college and found a job with a big company. A sexy older women who worked in a different part of the building started flirting with me. I saw no ring on her finger and decided to go for it. We had sex on our first date and she really knew how to screw. She told me all she wanted was a sex partner and being young that was fine with me. About two months into our fling I found out she was married and had a kid. I talked to her about it but she didn’t care. All she wanted was a young man with a big dick to fuck. I told her that I couldn’t see her anymore and things ended. Time went on and I dated women my age but it just wasn’t the same. All I could think about was how the married women was insatiable. How she knew how to fuck like an animal. I then realized that a sexualy frustrated married women was a wildcat in bed. No commitment, no rules , just animalistic sex beyond your wildest dreams. Then I decided that’s all I wanted so I began hunting married women. I’ve never told my friends for fear of judgment. In the past five years I’ve had eighteen affairs with married women and so far I’ve never been caught. Forbidden fruit is truly the sweetest.
I am afraid to tell anyone I am lesbian. For years I have denied it, because I always second guess myself, and because I have never dated anyone I have just lied about it. I am stuck and miserable, my family already tries to shove God at me whenever they can. I am afraid of the reactions my friends would have. I feel so alone in this right now, I pretend to be interested in guys just so my family wont find out, because I know it'll all go to shit once they do. I am being judged by the people in my life that say who I am is disgusting, and they don't even know they are directing it at me. It fucking sucks, and I feel like lying is the only choice I have now.
#lies #lesbian #confession #family #friends #alone #fear #judgement
This is my story of mental abuse, caused by my parents.
I'm 11, and I was depressed last year. After my mother called me a bitch, which she did two more times over that year, I became depressed... I asked to not wash the dishes, because I had fallen over and hurt my leg (which still hurt like hell!) but she didn't give a shit! She said, "Stop treating me like dirt, you Little Bitch!" and never said sorry. A few months after, and I still felt horrible. I was fat. My mother had told me this over and over. The truth is, I was tall as an average 12yr old and the right weight for that but since I was ten... I was "Fat" and "Chubby"... One day, I begged my mom to not let me go to a Scout Camp, because I didn't really know anyone in my group, but she just said, "Stop acting like a bitch and get ready!", which made me feel more depressed. I barely spoke on the camp, and I was starting to become an introvert. When everyone else was on a sugar-high I had to do something, but didn't know how. I didn't ask and ended up spilling the container of dirty water. They yelled at me for not asking for help, clearly not understanding what it means to be an introvert, and I felt horrible... A few weeks after that, I heard my mother saying, "Lesbians all should burn in hell!" to my father, and my heart fell to the ground. I've had many crushes, on both male and female. I know I'm bisexual already... The next day we were in the car, and I asked my mother what she thought of gays...
She said, "It's their life. They can do what they want."
"What if I'm bisexual?"
"YOU ARE TOO YOUNG TO KNOW WHAT LOVE IS! Uh, but if you are bi, we will accept you.."
I used to be an extrovert, but I'm now introverted. I'm a brilliant actress, but only because I've been hiding my depression. I never cut myself, thanks to my best friend, Eggie, but I came close to drinking bleach when my father told me to "Fuck off", but didn't thanks to her. I have another really close friend, Austin, and he's fine with who I am and I feel wanted for once in my life. I am no longer depressed, but when I say "I love you" to them, I don't mean it... I care about them, hell they're my parents, but they have taught me to not stand up for myself and that I am worthless... I wish there was a way out of this hell. I wish I could tell someone! My friends think I never think about ending it, but that's not true! I believe I'm worthless, regardless of how many times I'm told I'm not! I wish I could just be who I want. I wish I could have been born into a family that cares about my well being! I am shy and introverted, but my family thinks I'm a happy, loud, extrovert! I have anxiety, but I can't tell anyone face to face because I'll break down and crying is weak! I am weak, so why do I hide it? I'm never going to be worth anything! I just wish, that when I closed my eyes and dreamed, that it wouldn't end. That I'd one day wake up and everything will be fine... I just hope god let's things become better...
#depression #wish #listen #help #love #never #friends #parents #hate
Last night, I had a weird dream about toilets and bathrooms and stuff like that. I don't wanna talk about it in detail but I dreamt that I had to pee very urgently but I couldn't find a toilet, so I decided to pee behind a parking car.
In my dream, I peed behind this car.
In reality, I peed my pants.
In bed.
My boyfriend right next to me.
He woke me up because he felt something wet on his legs.
I hate men. I genuinely despise them. They scare me and disgust me in so many ways. I have been raped, abused, manipulated, gaslit, sexually assaulted, followed, harrased, victim blamed, lied to, taken advantage of, made uncomfortable, fetishised (im lesbian and latina),made insecure and treated like a lesser human being all by men. I am only 16. I can count dozens of girls I know personally that have gone thru these things. Ages ranging from 13 to 26. I have violent fantasies about what I want to do to men.
I’m 14 years old, and my mood has been getting really bad except I haven’t tried to tell anyone, and I’ve started skipping classes and vaping. I’ve been arguing with my mom now, and I am easily irritable.
Confessions by confessionstories.org
