J
Justme.
I feel like I will never get past this, every day something reminds me and then I dwell on it how do others stop thinking about it.
My father is a disgusting pig of a man. I was scared to death of him so I did what he wanted.
My mother had already left.
At night I would be laying there knowing he was out with his drinking buddies, dreading him coming home, pretending to be asleep. Sometimes that worked and he would just pass out on the couch, I would hear him start snoring and could finally go to sleep myself. Sometimes I would hear a woman's voice with him and I would breath a sigh of relief.
Other times it would be that sinking feeling as he comes to my bedroom door.
Get up I need you to do my back.
That meant rub his back with baby oil until he is ready to be masturbated then if I couldn't make him finish, his hand on the back of my head pushing me down.
The nauseating smell of baby oil the feel of it on my hands the taste of it. I still can't stand it.
Trying to make him finish to get it over with, letting him make me gag and that awful feeling when I think he's nearly done but he makes me stop. Making me prolong it so I have to start over.
The worst was when he had been taking drugs. I wouldn't be able to make him finish. It would go on for hours until he would usually finish by throat f*cking me. Sometimes I thought I would die while he was doing it. I hate myself sometimes for complying with it. I would be laying there still trying to please him while he did that to me. It's hard to rationalize.
The next day I would have bruises on my shoulders where he held me down and my throat hurt so bad I could barely swallow. He didn't care though. His selfishness had no boundaries.
The last time he did that to me I was 19 I packed and sneaked out of the house when he was sleeping. By the time he realized I was really gone I was 500 miles away. That was ten years ago I have never spoken to him since. A relative recently told me he is dying and suggested I go see him. Ha.
I couldn't care less. She doesn't know how many times as a child he was ramming his dick down my throat. She could have been talking about the weather for all I care. All I want is to wipe him and the things he did from my memory but I can't.
My father is a disgusting pig of a man. I was scared to death of him so I did what he wanted.
My mother had already left.
At night I would be laying there knowing he was out with his drinking buddies, dreading him coming home, pretending to be asleep. Sometimes that worked and he would just pass out on the couch, I would hear him start snoring and could finally go to sleep myself. Sometimes I would hear a woman's voice with him and I would breath a sigh of relief.
Other times it would be that sinking feeling as he comes to my bedroom door.
Get up I need you to do my back.
That meant rub his back with baby oil until he is ready to be masturbated then if I couldn't make him finish, his hand on the back of my head pushing me down.
The nauseating smell of baby oil the feel of it on my hands the taste of it. I still can't stand it.
Trying to make him finish to get it over with, letting him make me gag and that awful feeling when I think he's nearly done but he makes me stop. Making me prolong it so I have to start over.
The worst was when he had been taking drugs. I wouldn't be able to make him finish. It would go on for hours until he would usually finish by throat f*cking me. Sometimes I thought I would die while he was doing it. I hate myself sometimes for complying with it. I would be laying there still trying to please him while he did that to me. It's hard to rationalize.
The next day I would have bruises on my shoulders where he held me down and my throat hurt so bad I could barely swallow. He didn't care though. His selfishness had no boundaries.
The last time he did that to me I was 19 I packed and sneaked out of the house when he was sleeping. By the time he realized I was really gone I was 500 miles away. That was ten years ago I have never spoken to him since. A relative recently told me he is dying and suggested I go see him. Ha.
I couldn't care less. She doesn't know how many times as a child he was ramming his dick down my throat. She could have been talking about the weather for all I care. All I want is to wipe him and the things he did from my memory but I can't.
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