Foreskin's Lament A Memoir Novels & Stories

It was just two strokes and for me ,the first hurt probably because he tore my hymen but the second was neutral. I lowkey found myself anticipating the next until his phone rang. Then I came to my senses and he came to his. Still,I was so ashamed that I wished I could crawl under a rock and never come out. I wished I had woken up with a foggy memory; at least I wouldn't feel this embarrassed. I had multiple orgasm yesterday and it was heavenly. The picture of his head buried in-between my legs will forever be imprinted in my memory. At this rate, I might never come out of this room. I couldn't face him, at least I was thankful I didn't end up with Felix.

I told him. I hopped up and grabbed some clothes. I opted for some skinny jeans and a sweater. I did not want the sleazy Elder to look at me like he had before. I closed my eyes and fought against the memory of that night. The pain and was unbearable, making me wonder if my body would finally succumb to the years of damage.

I shouldn’t be a bother to him this morning. As I was putting on my pants, my eyes caught the slim small scar under my breast, on my rib cage. Hot tears slide down my face as the memories of how I got it surfaced in my head. I do not understand why it was still so painful when it happened years ago. Cleaning my tears away, I try to block the memories and got changed quickly, before Lorenzo wakes up. I put on pink sweatpants and a white knitted sweater Mama got me yesterday. I walk out of the closet and let out a small scream at Lorenzo standing close to the door with a hard expression.

The vivid voyeuristic confession that the dignified brother-in-law, who could not even properly look me in the eye, would turn his male weapon blue with erection in the dark, imagining me naked. That immoral, corrupted narrative that he panted madly at the thought of stretching this dry core I had firmly closed for ten years. It was heating my empty, coldly frozen core like a firewood flame. Beneath my pure white mourning robes, beyond the tightly tied cotton undergarments, the secret valley between my two thighs. It was already shamefully soaking wet merely from hearing my sister's filthy story, and an unbearable, sweet moisture burst forth, drenching my delicate folds squelchingly.

Looked d⁠own at me​ with those⁠ dark,‍ ruine​d eyes a‍nd told me he w‌ouldn’t fuck m‌e until⁠ I asked for it⁠. The memo‍ry alone ma⁠de f⁠resh he​at c‍ra‍wl up my n‍e‌c​k. I finally f⁠orced myself to mov‌e, sitting up on un‍st‍eady ar‍ms​. My underwear‌ was still discard‍e​d somew⁠here on the f‌loor. My skin felt oversens⁠itive, marked by the me‍mory of h‍is​ hands and mouth ev‍en tho‍ugh he ha‍d left no visib‍le bruises. I pressed my thighs tog⁠ether and‌ immediately regret​ted it th⁠e pressure⁠ only reminded me of​ how wet I‍ still was, how thoroughly he had taken m⁠e⁠ apart with nothing but his tongue⁠ and fingers.

“She’s afraid of being punished, so she’s pretending to be sick to get sympathy. Think about it. When she donated her cornea, her body was perfectly fine.” With just one sentence, Jack’s gaze turned cold again. “That’s right. If Joanna hadn’t reminded me, I would’ve fallen for it. All these years, I must’ve spoiled you too much. Now you’ve picked up all these bad habits. Let me help you fix them today!” With that, he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the bathroom. My body scraped across the floor—I was in so much pain I couldn’t even scream. My eyes felt like they were being eaten by ants, the pain was excruciating.

I have a class to attend. ‎I scurried out of bed and dashed into the bathroom to take a shower. ‎I know what we just did is forbidden and a taboo, but I don't feel guilty for it. Not one bit. In fact, I so much loved it. Who would regret having hot sex with a guy who has a big dick and knows how to fuck very well? ‎**Author's note** ‎Are they going to keep doing it till their parents come back? ‎Let's keep going. ‎Thanks so much for your support 💯 ‎

As if looking into my inner soul, Staring right at me was a pair of blue eyes so vivid it felt like I was looking into the ocean's depths. Could those eyes belong to Alpha Grayson? Why was he studying my interaction with the warrior? Why not just come down and greet me himself? I felt my anger start to rise. I was angry that nearly thirty years later, my family was still being treated like garbage. I was mad that Alpha Grayson had time to meet with me, but he pushed me aside like I meant nothing; and I was livid that he was forcing me to go to the banquet, knowing that the pack females would torment me for being a Macafee.

Sobs rip out of me, the smell of my own burning flesh fills the room. He holds it there. One second, two, three. Long seconds of pure fire. Then he lifts it. A perfect tiny wolf now seared into my skin forever. The pain does not stop. It throbs and pulses. I scream until my voice is gone, only broken sobs left. I shake hard. The burn is fire. Tears flood my face. My legs tremble. But between my legs I am wet. Shamefully wet. My body betrays me again. I hate it. Hate him. Hate myself.

When it was finally over, I sat there shaking, covered in my own juices, tears streaming down my face. The guilt was worse than any physical pain I had ever felt. I confessed everything to Dr. Voss the next morning, voice trembling with shame and self-loathing. “I can still feel it,” I whispered. “The stretch. The fullness. The power. It’s like my body has muscle memory for being a whore and it refuses to forget.” Dr. Voss listened without judgment, then gave me the hardest assignment she had ever given. “Tonight, I want you to write two letters.