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I planned to take this to my grave and so this is as far as I'm willing to go with telling anyone what happened. So, I'm pretty sure it was near the end of 6th grade. My stomach had been bothering me all morning long but I kept ignoring it because I thought it would go away eventually. Unfortunately, that's not what happened. I was in my 3rd period class, sitting in the back row (about 5 rows) in front of the windows. I felt a fart coming on and I sat there for a few moments before deciding it felt like a silent one. Then I let it go. Before I continue, I would just like to emphasize how much I regret this decision. I would actually kill for a chance to go back in time and stop myself from doing this. I'm not even joking. Anyways...So, a few seconds passed and there was no smell or sound and I almost sighed in relief. But then it happened. The smell came. My teacher froze for a moment, quickly raising a hand to plug his nose. My TEACHER of all people. All around me other students began sputtering (not as a joke, they were serious.) and choking. I wanted to die. I considered stabbing myself in the heart with my pencil. Deciding that would only show I was the culprit, I suffered through minutes of other students accusing everyone else of doing it while half the class raised their hands to ask if they could leave the classroom. The room was filled with the foul, putrid smell. I can't do the smell justice. Imagine being in a room with someone who wasn't showered in 30 years and then amplify that by 50. It was like 100 skunks had just sprayed the room and then died. It was a corrupt, rancid, rotten smell. Back to the class though.. Someone finally went "It started in the back row!" and that was it. I was done for. I was sure I would be caught as the one who did it. I was starting to wonder how I would explain to my mom why I needed to change schools and change my name. But the world must have spared mercy on my soul, because at the time everyone in my school believed the "girls can't fart" thing. I was the only girl in the back row, and no one batted an eye at me. Then, my teacher finally spoke up and told us we were going to go outside for awhile. Classmates who I had never seen run before (we had recess at my middle school everyday) bolted for the fresh, pure air of the outside world. We spent 20 minutes outside before going back inside. At the end of class, my teacher laughed and said, "I feel really bad for the person who committed the crime. They'll never live that down." He was right. I'll never live that down. I'm in high school now (same school) and sometimes someone will bring it up in class and either laugh or grimace. There is no in between. You either remember it with a smile and laugh or cold dead eyes and a pained look. My friends will sometimes ask me about if I know who it was(they were in the class) and I just laugh and say "I'm not entirely sure any human could make something that awful. I'm pretty sure something died outside the window." but inside I am dying every time I say that. That was the worst day of my entire life, and I've had toilets overflow on me in public, my swimsuit come off in a pool, fall on my face after dropping from a 20 foot zipline into water, and accidentally stolen food worth 40$. Now that I list that stuff off, they seem so small in comparison to what happened on that bedeviled, cursed day. I will never forget this. Ever.
When I was 12 me and my friend were very curious about our bodies. So we both decided we would have a sleepover and we would explore and figure things out. When we had the sleepover we waited for his grandparents and his mom to go to bed and then we took off all of our clothes and started exploring. We knew what masturbating was and tried it but, as soon as we started his mom came down and caught us masturbating. We kind of liked being caught and now to this day (we are 16 and 17) we sleepover and play truth or dare including us masturbating and doing really risky stuf like going outside fully naked!
I’m DEADPOOL. That’s right, I’m the real Deadpool. No I’m not crazy. I’ll leave a secret code that only those who really know me could figure it out. WMHRSNSCARDCESCAECKAGCFLFWAHACLJ. Only the few who really know me could decipher that.
I started making up characters as a kid. Deadpool started in the 70’s. That’s right. Your getting the real origin of Deadpool.
I had some old comics. In one of them the Shadow fought a Ninja dressed in Red on a sub. My favorites were Cap & the Avengers, & Batman. But I liked this red ninja. So I made me as a super hero named “Red Ninja” when I was really little. In time the character got a much better name.
Over time he got cooler names. I won’t tell you his real name. My real character he became in my 20’s is very similar to Deadpool. I like mine better.
When I nearly died recently I destroyed all my 1,000’s of characters & their back stories. Old drawings. I’d hoped to one day draw my own comics, or let my children. But I’m near death so it’s not going to happen. No one wanted them. So I shredded them. I had to move into a tiny place. I had some way cool stuff though.
Starting in the early to mid 80’s I sent some of my worst characters & some ideas to Marvel Comics. I was going to use the good ones for my own comics. I’m pretty sure I saw one of my characters vaguely in a comic. Very vaguely. Either way I got some No Prizes. Empty envelops. The first one I wrote & said I didn’t get a prize. The prize was no prize, an empty envelope. You just give them ideas for characters; stories. But it becomes their property. You give it away.
Well; somewhere around 1990 or so; while in college, I decided to send Marvel one of my mediocre characters. I kept the best to myself. I was offered an art scholarship, but pursued other stuff.
Please realize I “gave” them the character. Just a rough idea. I did not give them my real character. I honestly don’t even remember what all I wrote in the letter.
In no way am I claiming anything beyond a rough idea. They apparently took a vague idea & made something cool out of it. So the character is completely theirs. I merely gave them a seed to plant & grow. Im not even certain they used my idea. The visual; mannerisms, & name make me convinced they did. Either way; I gave it away for fun, so who cares.
Around this time I was still collecting comics; but I stopped. That’s why I mailed this to them. My life was fixing to change dramatically. No more time for childish things. No more collecting comics. So since I doubted I’d ever pursue my comic ideas; I gave Deadpool (not my characters real name) away as a joke. I wanted to see if “I” could live on in the comic books, in case I died on a battle field. I loved Marvel. If they thought him/me worthy of being a super hero/villain, then it would mean my much better characters would be cool if I ever made my own comics. I had 100’s better than Deadpool.
Well I forgot all about it. No more kids stuff for me. My kids got into all the super hero stuff many years later. One day my daughter said dad. You have got to watch this movie called “Deadpool”. He’s just like you. I scratched my head. Realize my character has a different name. But I’m pretty sure I called the alternate less fleshed out version of red ninja; the bad “punisher” like pretend version of me, “Deadpool”. The one I mailed Marvel.
She said he’s just like you. The guy who plays him looks a lot like you (not really. But I am attractive. And I married a beautiful woman). He talks endless trash. Is always trying to be funny. Uses two swords and guns at once. Wears a red ninja outfit. Never shuts up. Cusses. Can do all that ninja gymnastics stuff like you. He’s you. Huh? That did sound like me.
So I watched the movie; remembered sending the idea to Marvel, & laughed my butt off. She asked what was funny. I said that is me. That’s really me as a super hero. I mailed that idea to Marvel before I married your mom way back in college. I didn’t know they made it into a super hero. Of course she didn’t believe me.
Now let’s be clear. I’m not taking credit for the character or anything. I can’t even remember what I mailed them. I had been drawing characters since age 7 or so. Red Ninja had been me since the 70’s.
I was finally giving up buying & collecting comics. No more drawing & expanding characters. I was putting all of that away & growing up. Time to leave college & start life. I never thought of that stuff again till she made me watch the movie. She was right though; that was me, especially back in the late 80’s & early 90’s.
I won’t bore you with the whole story & details. Nor can I remember what all I actually even mailed them. But either way; I gave it to them. Looks like they used it. I was hoping someone would turn it into a character. That if I died I’d still be alive in a sense as a super hero. Just a private joke. So in my mind anyways; I pulled one on Marvel, got them to turn me into a super hero of sorts.
So since I have no clue what I mailed them I’ll show why my daughter saw the similarities. She had seen me training with two swords at once. And two knives. She’d seen me throw weapons & shoot guns with both hands. I’m an expert marksman with near any weapon, with both hands.
I do know martial arts. I have easily beaten multiple black belts with my mixed fighting style in training. I have extremely fast reflexes. Makes me really hard to fight. When I sent it in I had finally managed to slim my muscular body down from 275 lbs to under 250. To para jump or slide down ropes out of copters you must weigh under 250. I was so lean and low fat I had cuts & veins everywhere. I thought Deadpool having healing powers like Wolverine would be great. Instead of claws he’d use two swords & pistols like me. He’d have my agility; athletic ability; super strength (I was a power lifter). Only magnified for comics of course. I’m the lame real life version.
I was very conceited about my appearance & abilities. I talked endless trash. Cussed none stop. I never shut up. I still have a constant smile. I try to be funny and constantly try to make people smile & laugh. A crowd once watched me fight several men. They say I was turning flips. Doing crazy moves. Like Deadpool. And the whole time I was telling jokes and talking trash. That’s true. Like Deadpool.
I used to run track. I could nearly touch the top of a basketball backboard. Great at long jumping.
I was being trained by an ex special forces relative & was intending to join the military soon, which is why I mailed off the idea for Deadpool to Marvel. Letting go of my childish ways. Would be no more time for that. After I mailed it off o bought no more comics. Drew no more characters. I was done.
I had a relative of sorts who used to work with me some. He was impressed by my marksmanship. He had been a soldier & then soldier for hire. Mercenary. I was a great marksman so he thought I should try that after the military.
Well in high school & college I found myself living in this high crime gang controlled inner city. At night it was a war zone. Cops were afraid to come in there at night. So if you got caught up in something you were on your on. Like the fight I just talked about.
Starting as a little kid I used to fight to protect others. I slowly learned to mostly be quiet & passive in school. Until I moved into the gang area. Sometimes I’d fight to protect others. But not in front of teachers. At school I had fought to protect any weak loner. I don’t care what color you are. Religion. Gay. I would protect anyone. In my eyes we are all the same.
Well; those of you who work & goto school full time know, your rarely home. At night I’d wake up to gang activity. Screaming. Gun fire. Fights. People buying & selling drugs. Drug dealers are the root problem in these neighborhoods.
I’ve fought and been chased by gangs in high school. Been shot at just for walking home. Kids on those streets know what I’m talking about. I learned to mind my own business. But a few times I had to go out into the dark night. Batman.
Ninja movies were getting popular. I always trained with two knives & pistols at this time. So now I added two ninja swords.
So around the time I sent this to Marvel I’d snuck out at night & stopped a few crimes when I heard screaming. Usually only for a woman or child. Not dressed as a ninja. I’m the real guy.
I’ll give one example. I heard a woman yelling for help. I went running out. A very large man was trying to attack her with an ax handle. Trying to break thru her window. She was protecting her child. So I fought & disarmed him. Made him run away. Then I had to talk to the cops. Witnesses confirmed my story & I got off. People would watch. But not interfere. I’m lucky people liked me enough to speak up for me a couple of times. Had it been gangs they probably would not have. No one calls the cops on drug dealing gangs. They will do drive byes & stuff. Unlike Deadpool, I can’t magically heal.
I only did these things a few times. Real life isn’t a movie. But my friends had saw me in action. My wife had told my kids those stories & about the time she watched me fight & save another woman. And of course talk to the cops yet again.
In real life once you save the day; you then get to talk to cops; teachers, bosses. You get kicked out of school; paddled; almost arrested; fired. Real life isn’t a movie.
So Deadpool wasn’t really me. He was like an alter me. A bad version of me. He would go off into the military for special forces like I was planning. Be a Merc like I was contemplating. But he’d be half nuts. He’d decide to take out drug dealers and criminals to stop crime at the source. You know that voice in your head that you ignore. Hey go do this. You know better from listening to that voice as a kid. Don’t listen to that crazy voice.
That is the real problem in these neighborhoods. Drugs fuel the gangs. Addiction destroys people. Gangs strike fear in neighborhoods. Everyone is afraid to call or speak to cops. Cops are afraid to come there at night. They arrive way too late & in large numbers. By the time they do it’s usually too late.
So the goofy one in the movies does act a lot like me. Obvi I’m no nutt super hero. I’m the real guy. I based the character off me. I like what they did with it. Totally different from me. As I said; I mailed in a very vague idea. They appear to have developed it into something cool. But I can’t take credit for any of that. But the behavior & general description are so much like me that my daughter realized it when she watched the movie. They’ve all seen me get right up in the face of would be tough guys and talk trash; joke, & cuss just like Deadpool. They’ve seen me lift up very heavy weight. Shoot two pistols at once. Train with two swords. On & on. I have that endless grin on my face. Im the real Deadpool.
So where did the name Deadpool come from? As a child I was an amazing marksman. I never missed. Some vets nicknamed me Eagle eye & Deadeye. I liked Clint Eastwood. So I called the bad; drug dealer pretend version of me Deadpool. Pretty sure I sent that name in with the idea. But it’s not important.
There was a real Hollywood game. People tried to predict who would die. Then bet money (a pool). So this Deadpool version of me would instead pick which deadly criminals should die. He’d take their drug dealing money. That would be his income. His “pool” of money. Plus; Eastwood had a movie out around that time, “the Deadpool”. I think I was watching it on VHS when I wrote the letter.
Clint Eastwood played a vigilante in Dirty Harry movies. I preferred the spaghetti westerns.
So since I don’t think I’ll be alive much longer I thought I’d secretly confess that I’m convinced I’m the basis for Deadpool. I don’t care if anyone believes me. I did specifically tell them they could have the idea. I did ask them to turn it into a character for Marvel comics. I didn’t send them the real character. He was much more complex and pure. Instead I sent them something I thought people would want to watch & read. This was in the rap anti establishment days. No one liked Cap anymore. I’m a whole lot more like Cap. But no kidding. As I type this there are ninja swords hanging above my bed. There are two pistols on a nightstand by two knives. As I said; Im the real Deadpool. Well; sort of.
What do I look like? Well I’m very sick now. But I’m very lean. Weigh about 255. Very muscular. I was born with blond hair & blue eyes. People say I’m attractive. And I act “a lot” like the character in the movie still to this day. That’s why when my kids first saw the first Deadpool movie they ran in there saying dad, your in a movie, you’ve got to come see this. And yes; I am really that cocky. I’m convinced no one can beat me. I did learn to shut up at times. But I talk endless crap. I crack endless jokes. I never shut up. I have a crap eating grin non stop. I did not go into the special forces for a very good reason. Nor did I become a mercenary. I’m afraid the real me isn’t overly impressive.
I am no kidding wearing a shirt that’s blue with stars on the top. Alternating red and white vertical stripes on the bottom. I just realized that when I looked down. My kids had them made for me I guess. They look like one offs.
OK kids of mine. There it is. Let’s see if you can figure out my code. No one else ever will. I’ll give one of you a clue. See if you can surf the web and find this. Decipher the code. Prove I wrote it. You asked me to tell someone I invented Deadpool. That would be wrong. You can’t give something away. Ask someone to make something of it. Then try to take credit. So here it is. No name or proof. But my admission. One more joke. If you find this and read this have a good life. Now you know where I got the idea. From an old The Shadow comic I owned. Why did I like the red ninja? He was better than the shadow. That’s why when I sent the character to Marvel. Instead of sending them the real character that red ninja became; which I will not reveal here, I gave them a meaner version. A “Punisher” like version. A soldier for hire who didn’t just cross the line; he became a criminal of sorts. Much like Wolverine was in a comic or two. Dark. The opposite of me. Like alternate Superman.
I am very proud of you that you saw me in the way Deadpool acted. You even pointed out how I used to pull your legs & claim I could block bullets with my swords. That’s obvi a lie. But I’m still pretty good for a real person.
#deadpool #red #ninja #fun #laugh #funny #laughter #comic #comics #book #admission #riddle #code #drug #drugs #gang #fight #athlete #athletic #merc #mercenary #mouth #trashtalking #cuss #cussing #gymnast #agile #agility #gymnastics
I'm a 65 year old bisexual male who loves to cross-dress. I've been doing this now for seven years. Wearing women's clothing just feels so good to me. When I get up in the morning, I can't wait to get my entire body shaved completely smooth, put on makeup and do my nails. Next comes my thong, corset, push-up bra, hip and butt pads, garter belt and nylons. Since I've been taking phytoestrogen supplements the whole time, my boobs have grown to fit snugly into a 42C bra. My boobs are really nice. Guys go crazy for them. I began using breast forms to augment my appearance, but I don't need them anymore to get a nice effect. I really love my boobs and fondle them as often as possible. Next comes a silky slip to drape over my torso, followed by a sexy dress with its hemline falling just above my knees. The neckline of my dress must plunge low enough to expose my cleavage. My legs have received many compliments on their shape, so I always wear a fashionable pair of heels to bolster their appearance. Earrings, necklace, bracelet and a nice wig complete the look.
My wardrobe is extensive. I have dozens of dresses, skirts, blouses, shoes. outerwear and accessories. Wigs of all shades and lengths are available to me as well. No matter how much I have, I can't resist the urge to buy more. Its definitely an obsession. When I'm fully dressed and see myself in the mirror, I nearly come to climax. OMG, how I wish I could be a woman. I'm so jealous of those who are.
Being bisexual, I crave having sex other men. As a younger man, it was relatively easy to hook up for same sex experiences. However, as I aged, it became harder to arrange such trysts. Becoming a crossdresser definitely increased my chances for success. I discovered that many men love "chicks with dicks". It opened up a whole new world for me. As soon as I began appearing in drag, I became much more desirable. My date requests grew immensely. I could pick and choose which ones to accept.
One thing I've always fantasized about was being a prostitute. How lucky women are that they can do this. I could never understand why more ladies don't participate in that occupation. I fantasized about it so much, I decided to try my luck as a crossdressing escort. Websites for escort service advertising are all over the internet. I offered my services on as many of them as I could. I really didn't know if I'd get any responses. To my surprise, the replies were overwhelming.
It was so easy to find men who wanted to have sex with me. There were several women as well. I've lost count of how many men I've sold my body to, but it has to be at least several hundred. Age range also surprised me. The youngest man I did told me he was 18, and I'm not sure if he really was . He looked no more than 16 and didn't have a car. I asked to see his ID, but he declined to show me anything. I probably shouldn't have had sex with him, but the opportunity was too irresistible. The oldest guy was in his 70's and the rest were part of every age group in between.
So far, I've made tens of thousands of dollars over the years as a part-time prostitute. I know its not the right thing to do, but I just can't stop. I've tried to quit many times. I love the work so much the idea of quitting is to depressing. I can't keep doing this forever. What am I going to do?
Went into nursing for the money and because I didn't know what else to do with my life. Now six weeks into my first job, I'm already thinking about leaving. I've struggled with depression, insecurity, and suicidal thoughts for about 7 years, and this career has resurfaced all of those old emotions. Working alongside nurses with 20+ years of experience and new doctors that think they know everything under the sun has made me feel incompetent, ignorant, and foolish. Don't get me wrong, I want to excel and be the best person I can, but it's just been so tough, mentally and spiritually. I'm starting to feel broken down before I even get on my feet. :/
#depression #greed #suicide #nursing #medicine #anxiety #despair
I like imagining I'm pregnant. hugely pregnant.
for some reason. I've always been embarrassed by the idea of getting pregnant- and that turns me on. I love anything that makes me feel humiliated. when you're pregnant, everyone knows you've slept with someone, your breasts get noticeably bigger, you get hornier.. but the weird thing is..
the hottest thing about it to me is the belly. the idea of having a huge pregnant belly get in the way of daily tasks and draw attention to me is humiliating. it's make me feel like a big walking balloon. it makes me so horny thinking about it, though. the thought of trying on shirts that are too small for me.. having trouble getting them over my belly... strangers wanting to rub my tummy.. not being able to see my toes.. being so big that it's hard to move..
mm..
it's especially hot to imagine it, since I'm still a teen and I'd be looked down on for it. I'd be seen as a slut.
I'm so ashamed to like this.
seriously, what is wrong with me?
The worst thing I ever did. So me and my girlfriend were 20 she used to drink and party but I never did. She was my girlfriend for two years at this time and we were each others first. We were visiting Mexico having a good time with some new friends and we were at this weird hotel with a pool and bar. It was like 1 am. She was blacked out drunk sleeping in a pool chair near the bar which was closed. All our friends were in there rooms. I was sitting across the pool on my phone. A few random people were there either sleeping or in the corners. 3 guys approached my sleeping girlfriend. They touched her boobs and were kissing her neck and lips. One had touched her privates while another had her hand in his pants. I just watched in shock as they were doing this to her. I just sat there and watched as they all did this. They even flips her over so they could touch her butt. The furthest it got was them fingering her while kissing and one guy sat her on him lab so he could touch her easier. I didn’t stop them because I was scared and turned on. They eventually left after a while and I dragged her back to our room and slept. I never told her. We are 25 now and still together and she has no clue. She had Hickeys on her neck and I told her they were from me. I always want to tell her but I just can’t. Don’t think I ever will.
When I was teenager home by myself I used to put on my sisters dress and wear my mothers lipstick. Later on I worked at a library wearing panties and nail polish. Now my wife has stopped wearing bras so I want to wear them, but don’t want her to know but I’m not worried if my daughter sees me in a dress for some reason. She’s just bought some bras and I wish I could bought some too.
I was working in Las Vegas several years ago. I was staying in a strip hotel and in the evening when I was done with work I would go out in the hallway and call my wife. One night as I am talking to my wife (I am in my lower 60s), this young girl of about 20 comes up to me and stands right next to me shoulder to shoulder. I did not move, kept talking to my wife. She didn't say a word, just stood touching my side. When I hung up the phone I say to her what's up. She says not much and gives me a gentle nudge. Well within about 15 seconds we were hand in hand kissing. We walked around and stopped every few feet to kiss. She could't go back to her room because her boyfriend was there, I couldn't go back to my room because I was sharing it with a co worker. We walked around and found the linen closet was open. We went in and kissed for the longest time. She was tall, slender, tiny breasts. I took off her top and sucked on her nipples for quite some time. She didn't want to go any further than that. Too bad both our rooms were occupied,
I have a secret that I find embarrassing to talk about and feel ashamed when I think about it but I get so aroused just thinking about it! From a young age I wet the bed and even now it occasionally happens but I believe this has caused me to develop a fetish for urination. I have tried to block it out but it's always in the back of my mind and I get really turned on when I'm home alone and desperate for the toilet. I've never been comfortable to talk about this but for some reason I don't mind sharing it with the world.
Is it normal to have these thoughts and urges to want to be humiliated and peed on? I'd just love to know how common it is and if people have been able to tell their partners and enjoy this fetish together? I don't want to feel like I should shy away from it any more. I feel so nervous writing this but in a weird way find it quite erotic that people will read it.
I'm also worried about my desire to put on women's underwear at the same time I need to pee. I want to share and hopefully find some answers and other people to talk to that share this sexual desire. Just for reference I'm a 27 year old male. I hope I'm not a complete freak of nature lol
#peeing #pissing #watersports #goldenshower #humiliation #dominating #pee #piss #urine #strange
As a kid I thought that chocolate is the poo of cows. Until I was 13 years old I never wanted to eat chocolate because I thought it is disgusting and I yelled at other people for eating cow poo.
#cow #poo #chocolate #embarrassing
Started crossdressing when i was in high school. Wore outgrown pants that were so tight that you can clearly see the outline of my legs and butt. My classmate commented that i look nice in them so when i got home i looked at myself in the mirror. and there i saw what he meant, my lower part is shaped like a girl's. That's when wore girls short shorts under my regular shorts when i ride my bike. Once i got far from our house, i took off my regular shorts and pull up my girls short shorts to make them a lot shorter. Now i get cat calls from guys when i buy groceries in my cute shorts. I got to taste my first cock while wearing my sexy outfits.
When I was a teenager way back in the early eighties, I was taunted by some of the other boys at school for being overweight. I was a little, but in my mind at the time I was convinced it was a lot. It got to me so much that a few days before the start of the new school year I went into town with some money I'd been saving and (I can still barely believe it even after all these years) I went into a department store, went into the lingerie department and, with a bright red face, bought myself a panty girdle. Even though I dreaded the thought of wearing it, I thought a girdle would reduce my belly, tighten up my backside and get the bullies off my back. As I was excused gym class on medical grounds, there would be no problem there. And surely I'd get used to it? The assistant was initially astonished and thought I was joking at first, but when she realised I was serious, I guess she figured my money was as good as anyone else's.
So, on that first day, I headed off to school as if everything was normal, went into some derelict buildings along the way, took off my trousers, quickly tugged on my long-leg Playtex "I Can't Believe It's A Girdle!", got dressed again, and headed off to school, wide-eyed and stiff legged. My "weight loss" since the start of the summer break was noticed, but I was still bullied. And now I had to get used to wearing a tight girdle every day to maintain the weight loss illusion - I could hardly get paunchy again overnight!
Have you ever had that terrified sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realise you've really screwed up? That's how I felt when it dawned on me what I'd done and that there was no going back. The whole idea was dumb from the start, had failed totally in its objective, my initial overconfident attitude about getting used to it had died the moment I'd put it on and realised as it compressed my belly, backside and thighs exactly what it was I was going to have to get used to...and now I had no way out! I felt sick as I realised I was going to have to wear a girdle - a Playtex panty girdle! - every day from now on. For no good reason. And it was all my own damn fault.
By the end of that first day of being firmly held in, I could definitely believe it was a girdle! I'd fidget around in my seat trying to get comfortable - sit forward, sit back, legs apart, legs together - but I could get no relief. It was a girdle, and it did what a girdle was supposed to do. I'd catch myself gasping as I stood up or sat down, and walking up or down stairs was...an experience. By lunchtime I felt like I just wanted to scream, but I had a long afternoon in front of me before I could take it off.
After school, I hurried back to the derelict buildings (as quickly as I could manage!) to get out of my tight new panty girdle. I was almost crying with frustration as I fumbled frantically with my belt buckle in the rush to get my trousers off and get the bloody thing off me. The relief I felt as I peeled it off was incredible. But I just had to get used to it being part of my uniform from that day on. I'm not ashamed to say that, as I tugged it on the next morning, I was actually crying. I did eventually come to terms with the situation and get used to it, but it did take a very long time.
I guess that was about the only notable thing I achieved at school, though being the only boy to have his underwear made by Playtex is something I was quite happy to keep secret!
This all started when I use to wipe my young sister's little cunt, and if mum wasn't around, I pay them to piss on my face, or in my mouth
And now every time I go for a pee, no matter where I am I have to piss on my hand, or loo roll, I such it or lick my hand to taste it.
When I'm in the bath laying down I want a piss I pinch my cock, and then let it shot out, in to my mouth.
I've change my little god daughter's nappy's, where I have to sniff or suck them to taste her piss, I let her lay there naked, so when she piss I lick her
No one has found out yes, and never will...
Back when i was 14 i would crossdress for older men through kik. I once found my teacher on there and i never told him anything but he was my biggest fan.
Around 3 am this night I woke up and since then I have the worst diarrhea I've ever had. I have to confess that I didn't make it to the toilet the third or fourth time and I had to poop in the kitchen sink. My mom cleaned it without saying a word. Sorry mom!
#diarrhea #embarrassing #mom #sink #toilet
TL;DR: tricked into half naked teaching on Halloween :(
Last Halloween, my first year teaching, a student of mine (8th grade) made me promise to wear whatever costume she got me for Halloween. Didnt think much of it at first as we kept talking about it for weeks leading up. Then the day came, she pulled out a tiny, tiny dallas cowboys cheerleader costume, then plopped the boots for said costume on my desk (this specific one.. https://www.partycity.com/adult-dallas-cowboys-cheerleader-costume-P321838.html). I was immediately alarmed to find how incredible short (and see thru) the shorts were and that I could not fit into the top! (I'm a 34 F breast). Being a woman of my word, I changed into the costume in the teachers bathroom and was promptly horrified by what I saw. so I went back into the classroom in my clothes as before and my students BOO'd me! they even hit me with my own ammo, as I preach keeping promises is paramount. One girl even said "how should we trust you if you lied to us like this?"... So I marched back into the teachers bathroom, put on the top I didn't fit into, slid on the shorts that were basically bikini underwear, and fastened my high healed knee high boots, buckled my huge star clad belt and marched to the door. I opened the door and was met by an eerie silence. All of the students just looked at me with no sounds being made. All of these 14 yr old girls staring at me scanning my body. So I just stood there.. in my tiny little cheerleading outfit, bottom of my breasts not even covered. What did my brilliant self do next? I just started the lesson. I made my worst mistake of all, bending over with my butt FACING the class in these shorts which rode them way up my rear. The class promptly started to giggle as I reached to cover my butt. Mortified, and with no other options in sight, the lesson began.. Social Studies, onto Science, onto Math. I taught it all in front of this class while barely clothed. bending over and reaching for things as few times as possible. Then finally the bell came at noon (half day thank god) and I dismissed the class. As I sat down at my desk I noticed at least 2 students pick up their phones off of their desks, which were covered by books. They were quick to leave, so before I could put two and two together they were long gone out of the school building and off to their weekend. So now I can only wonder if these students were recording the entire thing?
I didn't know what to do, so I just let them go. I couldn't go to the principal and tell her about it. I'd be fired before I could finish the sentence. The class never looked at me the same and always held me in a bit of contempt after that incident. Really horrifying and embarrassing. I don't even want to know if those girls were recording me and what they might have done with that video. fml.
#teacher #students #classroom #cowboys #cheerleader #class #lesson #embarrassing #shame #rookie
I was humilated and punished regularly for being being a bedwetter by my mother I was admittedly an fairly regular bedwetter up to almost 13 years old .my mom was punishment to fit crime type parent about 11 she started making put on diapers for bed which I hated.it didn't take her long to start using them for other punishments at one time we were garage saling with my aunt and her daughter that was about 8 at theTime I had just turned twelve My mom made me wear a diaper that day because of something I had done the day before I spilled my drink on my self in the car my Mother stopped in a gas station made me get out of car she made me take my wet jeans off on front of my cousin who immediately started giggling as soon as my pants hit the ground I told her to shut up which only got the back of my thigh slappedand my diaper was changed on backseat of car and wasn't able to put my pants back on due too being wet so rest of day in a t shirt and diaperbeing teased by a kid 5 years younger.
I'm a 16 year old male (for real; I'm not trying to bait anyone, or anything). I've always looked somewhat feminine, taking a lot more after my mom than my dad. When I was younger, I was even occasionally mistaken for a girl. That said, I'm a junior at a fairly progressive high school, and in my Drama class before Winter Break, I played the role of Juliet in Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. My Drama teacher is sort of weird. He's also VERY particular about the craft, so I was fully costumed and wore makeup the day of. To top it all off: it was a kiss scene! Now for the confession: my partner, playing Romeo, wanted to do the "thumb trick", where I would end up kissing his thumbs instead of his lips. I said okay, but when the kiss happened at the climax of the scene...I moved his thumbs away! He was really embarrassed, and so was I, but in the moment I felt really compelled to do it. I tried to apologize afterwards, but he just dismissed it...I'm not sure what to do now...
#juliet #shakespeare #drama #highschool #romance #crossdressing #embarrassed #dress #makeup
I was 25. It was my birthday. I'd been seeing my boyfriend for about a year. I didn't start out intending to have sex, but I must admit that I had thought about it. I had wanted him for a while, but I was raised to wait for marriage. Still, on this particular day my desire for him was especially strong.
My boyfriend said he had a very special birthday present for me, so we went to his house. There he carried out a well executed seduction. I was more than a bit reluctant, but I was in love with him, so eventually his gentle persistence won me over. He was kind, sweet, romantic, gentle, and persistent and respectful of my feelings and eventually my resistance fell away. I couldn't resist anymore.
He had mentioned to me a few times that he had an urge to make love to me, but that he respected my feelings enough not to pursue it. I had felt the urge too, but I had always managed not to succumb to it. Somehow, this day felt different, though I didn't realize why.
He started to make small, subtle advances and I barely noticed. Or maybe I didn't want to notice. The wet kisses passed unnoticed. He mentioned again that he had been thinking a lot about making love to me lately. Gradually, the advances got more direct and forward.
Somewhere along the line, I started to say no and it came out OK. That's when I knew it was time. I was surprised, but I knew I was ready, due to his persistence. So I gave in. I was scared, nervous, uncomfortable, but exhilarated, happy, excited, and curious. I actually found myself looking forward to it. I was overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure and the romantic moment.
I sent him out of the room, then I stripped my way up the stairs, leaving a boot at the foot of the stairs, another boot a couple of steps up, my dress a couple of steps after that, my pantyhose a step up from there, my bra at the top of the stairs, and my panties hanging on the doorknob of the bedroom.
I waited completely naked on the bed, wrapped in a sheet. He quickly stripped down to his undies and climbed on the bed next to me. I was tingling. After a little foreplay, I took his underpants off. Then we curled up and gave each other oral simultaneously. We did that for about half an hour.
Then I rolled over on my back and he went inside. We had intercourse for quite a long time. He was very good, and he told me he enjoyed it too. I had two or three orgasms and he came too. It was excellent! He was very good! It was passionate and romantic, about as good as a girl's first time can be.
Afterwards, I felt a mix of emotions: sadness, exhilaration, excitement, disappointment, deep romance, nervousness, peace, a bit of regret, but also happiness, satisfaction, and a myriad of other feelings. It was all something of a jumble.
It was a wonderful first experience, very romantic and tender. He was patient and he was very good. I felt like part of me had just died, but I also felt like I had staarted an exciting new adventure, one I would enjoy many times afterwards. What a great birthday present!
Confessions by confessionstories.org
