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One night I sneaked into her bedroom and kneeling and kissing her legs, I asked for her love.
She cried and asked to leave.
I left.

In the morning, my wife, calling me a scoundrel and a scoundrel, a seducer of minors and a pedophile filed

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for divorce.
Three years have passed.
I am mired in drunkenness and debauchery.
Once at the door, someone rang the bell.
On the threshold stood Mandragora.
This was no longer that 18 year old teenager.
It was a blooming woman.
Without a word, I tore off her clothes and raped right there in the corridor.
She did not utter a single word.
When it was all over, and I washed the virgin blood in the bathroom, I asked her why she came.
– I’m going to get married.
Tomorrow.
I came to my father to ask for blessings.
And what did I get? I never saw her again.
The Winstatt Story.
When I was 18 years old, my stepfather raped me.
At first he bent me over his knee, then he took off his belt and took off my panties for a long time and beat me with his belt.
I screamed heavily.
But there was nobody at home.
Then he made me suck my dick.
I gasped and could not scream.
Then he put me on all fours and entered from behind.
He said that he didn’t want to spoil my dear city
Once or twice a week.
He came to me at night and used me as he wanted.

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First he beat me with his soldier belt, and then he raped me from behind.
Often there was blood.
When the doctors, then, examined me there, it turned out to be a plurality of breaks.
And I have a long treatment.
Once I could not stand it and told everything to my mother.
At night, my mother took a sharp knife, which she cuts, usually a Christmas turkey, and cut off her stepfather, everything is clean.
In the hospital, he laid hands on himself.
Three years later, my mother was released from prison.
And I can not find a man who would understand me.
I now want pain.
To beat me with a belt, and then raped me.
No, I’m certainly not a virgin, and I prefer the right one.
But foreplay should be accompanied by pain.
Look at my hands! I cut my veins 12 times.
I hung myself thrice.
And she tried to poison herself twice.
I do not know.
I probably can’t stand it.
Someday, I still commit suicide.
Torsinoto story: I am a murderer.
But no one will ever catch me.
It’s been 20 years.
I had a best friend.
His name was Salvanos.
We knew each other almost from birth.
When he once fell ill, I did not leave him for a minute.
And no persuasion of relatives could not make me go to sleep.
Once when I saw his collection of stamps, and envy was reflected on my face, he gave me all of them without regret.
“I don’t want my best friend to envy me.”
May they be with you.
And I will come to visit you and admire them.
I often get this petter and cry.
No, I’m crying.
Why I confessed to him then.
When we turned 19, I suddenly realized that my friendship with Salvanos had grown into something big.
She grew into love.
It was a languid summer evening.
I said that I love him and I want him to be my man.
Salvanos, having heard these words, wildly laughed: – Torsinoto! Tell me you’re joking.
– No, its true.
– And how do you imagine it? – – You will be my husband, and I will be your wife.
– – Not! Never. Wasteland bdsm models.

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