Allright, /b/, it’s time to get something off my chest in the one place I won’t be held accountable in any way, shape or form. half the people reading won’t beleive it, and the other half couldn’t do anything about it if they wanted to (which they don’t), so I’m safe here in the legions.
When I was in junior high, I had a reputation for being a serious goody-goody. I didn’t have many friends, except for the other goody-goodies, and even though I wasn’t religious I spent most of my time with the religious clubs just because they didn’t care that I wasn’t interested in drinking and doing drugs and related ****. Anyone who was even remotely ‘cool’ generally hated my guts, and I spent most of my time reading or playing games at home, alone (my mom worked evenings, and dad lived in a different state). Because I had a reputation for being such a good quiet kid, our neighbor asked if I would start babysitting her daughter after school. She didn’t get home until late, and didn’t like ‘becky’ being alone. I didn’t want to, because it would cut into my emo loser time, but my mom didn’t really give me a choice, and at least it was a little extra cash ($3 a day). Before I go any further, I’m not setting up a trap here, I’ll say it straight. This is about sex and yes I’m a horrible person.
The girl was only 7 years old. She wasn’t very special, but she was very, very, very dim. As in “just smart enough not to be in special ed but is still eating her notebook one page at a time” kind of dim. From what I knew, she didn’t really have any friends outside of school, and with good reason. All kids are kind of air-headed and bizarre, but it was hard to put up with her stupidity. She couldn’t suceed at anything, I can’t remember her ever doing anything right. She tripped and fumbled and couldn’t play the simplest ****ing games and could barely add two numbers let alone subtract, ect, ect.
Anyway, after two months of putting up with that ****, I pretty much ignored her. I was obligated to make sure she ate something and didn’t hurt herself, and that’s all I did. When she was busy with something, I’d head to the bathroom or my bedroom to explore that new fangled ‘masturbation’ thing I’d discovered. I liked it better when she wasn’t there, because I could masturbate at the computer (lawl 28 k dialup porn), but when you first figure out how to bust one, you’re pretty much orgasming from undoing your zipper, you don’t need porn. Well one day, seems like out of the blue, Becky starts to cry. And I mean real, child-like, sobbing, ‘can’t breath’ cry. Despite being sick of putting up with her crap, I didn’t hate the little ditz, I just didn’t want to spend my afternoons making sure she puts her left shoe on her left foot. So I tried to comfort her, asked her what’s wrong. She asks me, broken through her crying, why no one likes her and why she can’t do anything right. My heart’s breaking, because, well, ****, what can I say to the little moron? She CAN’T do anything right :-\. I’m hugging her and rocking her and all that, but I’m at a loss for what to say. She goes on, choke, sob, sob, she’s never going to get married because no one will ever like her enough. I finally manage to say what seemed like the intelligent reply. “Boys don’t like girls because they’re smart, they like girls because of kissing and stuff like that”. She did start crying a little less at that, but she said something about not knowing how to kiss.
And here’s why I’m a horrible person. I’m holding this crying loli, afraid she’ll never get anyone to ever love her, convinced she’s utterly worthless. And my male reproductive organ gets rock hard. And the only thought going through my brain, over and over, is “I can get away with this”. I know, I suck, beleive me I know. I’ve got a rock in my stomach from remembering it, and I know there’s a special place in hell for guys like me. But my male reproductive organ is rock hard just remembering it, and it’s in charge most of the time. Sucks to be me I guess.
I’m not going to get into explicit details, because you can find those on any spank-story site around. But from that point on, my relationship with ‘becky’ was about sex, compeltely and utterly. I convinced her that I could show her how to do the stuff she needs to be good at to make a boy marry her someday, and convinced her that it was a huge huge secret only between me and her, and that she could never tell anyone, ever. I started with as much restraint as I could possibly muster, basically playing doctor. Touching each other, kissing, making out. She seemed to like everything we did, not so much because it was good, but because it was attention (and friendly attention). I progressed to fingering her, and fingering her pooper, oral sex (eating her… I tried to do a good job from what I learned online) and having her blow me. Tragically, she actually wound up really good at what we did. You don’t have to be a mastermind to suck male reproductive organ, and because she was so eager to pelase/lonely/generally dimwitted, she did absolutely anything I suggested. She always swallowed, unless I wanted to great times on her (and I usually fed her the great times anyway if I did), and she never told anyone.
With the horrible horrible knowledge available online, and the sheer perversity of a teenager with a sentient sex toy, things got more and more kinky. Interestingly, she never once put up a fuss or objected or resisted in any way. I was showing her how to make a husband happy, spending time with her, and she just went along with it with a smile and a general air-headed friendliness. She sucked on my feet, eventually I moved on to having her rim me and rimming her back. I did **** her frmo time to time, even though that hurt her a little she still went along with it, and I always used lube and was gentle. Yeah, I stuck it in her pooper too, don’t worry /b/. Basically, I spent all that time raising her to be an utter whore. Things followed a fairly consistent pattern for a solid 5 years. I watched her when there was no one else to, made a little cash, and used the hell out of her in any way I wanted to, constantly. Even when I wasn’t doing something specific, she was usually in various stages of dress or undress, or doing something ‘arousing’ or sexual, playing with herself because I wanted her too, wearing phallic shaped objects inside of her.
This came to a sudden, and screeching halt when she turned 12 (and I was 17). She’d never told a single soul about what we did together, but when she started going through puberty, learning more about sex, and specifically about sexual predators, something in her brain clicked and she realized I was the bad guy. From then on, she absolutely hated my guts, with a pbumion. Amazingly, she never told anyone, or at least never told anyone of consequence, or never told anyone in a way that affected me. She just avoided me and told me she wished I would die, ect. It sucked, I lost my sex toy and made an enemy, but it could have been a lot worse for everything I did. But that’s not the end of the story, not by a long shot.
I didn’t see her for 4 years, except in pbuming (which always included a dirty look and hateful glare). In that time, she tried to kill herself twice, went ‘goth’, and started hanging around with the fabulous persongy vampire kids who aren’t interesting enough to be choosy about their friends. black clothes = you’re okay. The four years were basically uneventful for me. I was in a pretty intense state of paranoia at the start, livnig every day as if I were going to end it in a prison cell when she decided to bring the hammer down, but the paranoia died the longer time went by. I graduated highschool, ddidn’t go to college out of apathy, got a somewhat decent but not fullfilling job, and was just another person out there with all the other people. By that time I had a few friends, and would occasionally go out drinking with them, finally loosened up and started acting generally normal. Well, when I was 21, I was at a halloween party, doing the whole ‘being drunk automatically means a good time’ thing. And I see her. The party was fairly big, so I shouldn’t have been surprised to find out that some of the people there were underaged. I had a somewhat akward night, my paranoia renewed by the close proximity. I mean really. If she’d pointed at me and said “THAT GUY MOLESTED ME WHEN I WAS 7”, it would have turned into an ugly ****ing night for me. Thankfully, she avoided me just like I avoided her, and around 2 am, with the party petering out a little, I started to head out.
Annnnd there she was /b/. On the curb, tiny little vampire girl, crying her eyes out. Her ride had ditched her, prettyt consistent behavior, as her group of friends were really only ‘friends’ because she kept following them the best she could (I found this out talking to her later). It was just like that day when she was 7, and I was trying to console her while she was crying. I wanted to be somewhere else, but I didn’t want to see her suffer. So i approached, really really timidly, and offered to help if she needed anything. She almost flipped out, but she wound up just sinking back into her crying. She said she needed a ride home, I offered one, she said she’d rather slit her wrists and bleed to death in the gutter. I didn’t saying anything. I just went and sat in my car. After a few minutes, she got up and got in the pbumenger side, still crying.
She was the first one to break the silence, telling me that she didn’t hate me. She kept repeating “I just don’t know what to do”. I didn’t ask, I just tried to make comforting noises and generally tried to soothe whatever she was going through. She went on about how no one liked her, everyone treated her like crap, she was useless, she couldn’t do anything right, she gave sex to everyone but no one liked her for it, they just told her she was a **** and treated her like one. I wish I could say that listening to her didn’t make my male reproductive organ hard. I wish I could say that listening to this poor girl suffer through a lifetime of emotional, sexual, and social abuse made me empathize and feel pity for her, but I’d be lying. Her pain turned me on. It always had. I don’t know why /b/, I’ve never been like that with anyone or anything else. I don’t like the really mean-spirited porn, I don’t fantasize about abusing other girls, I’m otherwise normal. but this girl being treated bad made my prick start leaking like a faucet. I really don’t know why, and yes I know how awful that is :-\.
After driving for a while, we pulled up in the alley behind her house. I had moved out and gotten an apartment, but obviously I knew where she lived. We sat there in the quiet dark for a while, and I turned to her and put my hand on her shoulder. She was still crying a little. Then she reached down, unzipped my pants, and started blowing me. Just like that. Because she WAS a ****.
Because I’d raised her to be one.
We never officially talked about it, and I never asked her out or anything, but from that point on, she’s been my girlfriend. She dropped out of highschool and moved in with me the next year, when she was 17. We have an extremly emotionally unhealthy relationship. She isn’t going to get any education, and I don’t want her to. Deep down, I want her to stay useless. She works as a checker at a grocery store, and spends the rest of her time as my ****toy. The sick part is, she’s happier and more content than she ever has been, simply because she has a place to be and someone who wants her for something. We don’t have a very normal sex life. Most of what we do would be considered abusive, even though she goes along with it. I share her with my friends a lot, she spends most of her time with something sexual going on. Even when she goes to work I usually put something in her woman's genitals, just because I feel like it. And it’s getting worse. I keep wanting to find more degrading and abusive things to do to her. After a while, I started putting her in the bathtub and ****ing on her. A while after that, I made her start drinking it. I’ve been leaving beastiality porn easy to find on our computer. We haven’t talked about it, but I know she’s seen it. Even still, she says she’ll do anything I want her to.
/b/, I don’t even LIKE beatiality. It doesn’t turn me on. I just want her to **** a dog because I want her to feel worthless and used. That’s how deep this runs in me. No one, in either of our families, knows how depraved and horrible our relationship is. They bumume we’re normal, and around them, we act normal.
Here’s the real kicker though /b/. When I lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep while she’s curled up against my chest and snoozing gently, I feel horrible for it all. I don’t want to be like this. I want to scoop her up and wash away every bad thing that’s ever happened to her, and treat her like a good sweet girl, and make her know that I love her. I want to stop all of this. i want to be good.
But even when I’m laying there, quietly crying so I don’t wake her up, wishing I could love her like everyone else doesn’t, I think about doing bad things to her, think about her crying and feeling horrible, and my male reproductive organ still stands at attention. her suffering turns me on. It has from the first day, and it always will.
I’m really at a loss for what to do /b/. I don’t expect the legions of anonymous to have any help or answers, or even to care. I’m just at a loss for what to do.
I have a diamond necklace I’m giving her for christmas. I keep telling myself that I’m going to sweep her off her feet and stop all of this, and treat her like a princess. I don’t beleive it though. because all i have to do is picture her with a handprint across her cheek and a male reproductive organ in between her lips, and I’m solid as a rock again.
I am going to hold her. Tell her how much I love her. Tell her that I’ll always take care of her. And it’s going to be true.
Then I’m going to twist her nipples until she can’t breath and **** her in the bum. She’ll be crying on the outside, but I’ll be crying on the inside.