When I was 13, I was walking home from school one day. A guy in...
my class, who was 14 at the time, quickly put his hand over my mouth and shoved me into an alley. He then raped me, very brutally. He used, tortured, and abused me. And I loved it. I loved his cold hands slicing, I loved everything about him. After he raped me, he started to run away. I called out to him, "Wait!". Surprisingly enough, he did stop and turn around. I walked right up to him and kissed him. We had a relationship, and now he's 19 and I'm 18 and we got married. And he still abuses me. And I still love it. Is masochism wrong?
By Anonymous on ⏸ Pause this confession