When I was a little girl, about seven or eight, I had a friend Kevy. She wasn't the brightest girl and had some problems at home as well as her mom had died.
One day she told me that she had something to show me. They were building apartments outside of our suburban housing complex and she said there was a secret spot.
When we got to this spot which wasn't more than a large crawl space behind a shed, there was a man waiting for us. He was tall and skinny with grey white hair and chin hair. She had a brown bomber type jacket on that had a security patch on the side of the arm. He had matching brown pants that had creases in them. He kept his hands in his pockets and he told us he just wanted to see our panties. I told him no and he told me it was okay and showed me his. They were basic white with blue on the band and they were the kind my dad wore. I kept saying no but he wouldn't let us go. I was really scared at that point and just showed him fast. He made me show him again, for what felt like a century. He smiled at me and said, "see that wasn't that bad." I was so scared I wanted to cry. I thought I was getting kidnapped. He told us to come back the next day and let us go.
I ran home so fast, expecting him to be behind me. When I got home to my dads house he tried to talk to me but my head was in a blur.
I have basically repressed the experience since and actually was able to forget about it for a number of years. It was only when I noticed that I couldn't bring myself to wear underwear or say the word panties that I remembered. I feel heartbroken that I didn't speak up, he would have been caught so easily.
One day she told me that she had something to show me. They were building apartments outside of our suburban housing complex and she said there was a secret spot.
When we got to this spot which wasn't more than a large crawl space behind a shed, there was a man waiting for us. He was tall and skinny with grey white hair and chin hair. She had a brown bomber type jacket on that had a security patch on the side of the arm. He had matching brown pants that had creases in them. He kept his hands in his pockets and he told us he just wanted to see our panties. I told him no and he told me it was okay and showed me his. They were basic white with blue on the band and they were the kind my dad wore. I kept saying no but he wouldn't let us go. I was really scared at that point and just showed him fast. He made me show him again, for what felt like a century. He smiled at me and said, "see that wasn't that bad." I was so scared I wanted to cry. I thought I was getting kidnapped. He told us to come back the next day and let us go.
I ran home so fast, expecting him to be behind me. When I got home to my dads house he tried to talk to me but my head was in a blur.
I have basically repressed the experience since and actually was able to forget about it for a number of years. It was only when I noticed that I couldn't bring myself to wear underwear or say the word panties that I remembered. I feel heartbroken that I didn't speak up, he would have been caught so easily.
