“Take the fucker out.” She said in a loud and commanding voice. “So help me, if you don’t take that fucker out, I am going to slap you.” She...said as she tugged on the front of my pants. Her tugging only made the knot tighter and harder to unfasten, so she reached up and slapped me and then moved my hands out of her way so she could untie them. “What kinda fuckin pants are these?” She asked as she pulled tugged and grabbed. She some how managed to free my cock and gave a “Wooo” when it sprung. This knowledgeof reality always ate at me, which just compounded my anxiety anddepression.Still life was stable and through a mishap at recess, when I turned to runfrom my daily beating, my arm pathetically swung out, accidentally givingone of my bullies a bloody lip, I wasn't picked on as much. Then the worldfell out underneath me.My parents got a divorce when I was in sixth grade. It was far from clean,full of head games and mining my sibs and I for dirt on the other. Itentailed a move out of. More

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