FAZER LOGIN"Don't pull it off… We're on the street. It's so embarrassing…" Outside a bar late at night, my boyfriend and I were drunk, slumped awkwardly on the curb by the roadside. What I never expected was that he would climb on top of me right there in public and start tugging at my underwear. I was wearing a short skirt, with only a thin layer of fabric underneath. If he pulled it off, wouldn't everything be exposed for people to see? I was just about to refuse, but when I turned my head, I realized— This wasn't my boyfriend at all.
Ver maisFollowing the familiar path, I made my way to the lecture hall. The ten-minute walk felt like half a century.Every face I passed stared at me with curiosity. I could almost hear the whispers—I was sure they were talking about me.Soon I reached the classroom. My classmates looked at me and laughed.I glared back at them with disgust.Then my advisor arrived. She addressed the class in a stern voice. "Naomi is a victim here. If you mock a victim, you might as well be encouraging the perpetrator. That kind of behavior seriously violates the student code. If anyone mocks her again, I'll fail you."Her words shut them up instantly.I watched with relief, as if I were witnessing my own rebirth.Soon enough, my classmates stopped ridiculing me. Gradually, they began to understand and accept me.Seeing all these changes filled me with quiet joy.A few days later, the police delivered news."Based on our investigation, Axel Keating has committed numerous crimes. We've gathered subst
My boyfriend had said "I love you" more times than I could count.He'd even said we'd get married as soon as I graduated.I didn't know when my finger had scrolled to the very top of the comments section.There was a comment there, posted three hours ago.[The girl herself shows up. And here I thought only I knew about her.]Someone replied: [Spill the tea?]The commenter answered: [I know her boyfriend. Same lab. Word is they're crazy about each other—PDA all day long. Tsk. Wonder if he knows about this.]I stared at that comment for a long time.He knew. How could he not know?He didn't just know. He'd filmed it.Rage burned through me, but at least now I had the video as proof in my hands.I dialed 911. The dispatcher's voice was calm. She asked what I needed.I said I wanted to report a crime.After a short, clear explanation, I hung up.I sat on the couch and waited.While I waited, I kept wondering whether I should text my boyfriend. Ask if his experiment was done.
It was a shame there was no outdoor footage of Axel assaulting me. Otherwise, I'd make sure they both paid for their crimes.The next day, after class, Axel actually came all the way from the neighboring university. He sidled up to me with that lecherous look on his face. "Naomi, that night—you were aching for me, weren't you? Now that you're single, how about I help you take care of things?"He even reached out to touch me.I slapped his hand away in disgust and said sharply, "Professor Keating, you'd better watch yourself. Don't forget, you're a professor."But Axel kept up his smug, careless attitude. Still grabbing at me. "Quit pretending. You're single now. You must be lonely and desperate. Let me help you with that problem."He reached for me again.I stepped back, crossed my arms over my chest, and glared at him. "Do that one more time, and I'll scream.""Go ahead and scream. Scream all you want. No one's coming to save you."The words made me sick. How could a professor
I screamed, hysterical. "I'm not some slut! Axel forced himself on me! And I was drunk—barely conscious. How could I possibly have done those things on purpose?"But my boyfriend wouldn't listen to a word I said. He kept that same disgusted look on his face. "You called him 'daddy,' didn't you? You're telling me that wasn't what you wanted? You dressed so sexy tonight just so you could pick up more guys at the bar and satisfy your filthy desires."I broke down completely. Yes, I had called Axel "daddy." But I never once thought about picking up other men at the bar.Did he think I was born a slut? Calling a stranger "daddy" like that?For a moment, I felt dizzy, unhinged.Maybe my boyfriend had a point. Maybe I really was insatiable. His small size had always weighed on me like a disease, carved deep into my heart. I'd often craved a man who could truly satisfy my body.Did all of this prove I was a slut? Was I truly beyond hope, deserving of nothing but humiliation?Seeing the






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