Foreskin's Lament A Memoir Mga Nobela at Kwento

It's uncomfortable! It felt strange yet shamed, my hands quivered but I tried my best to take my handkerchief from my pocket and slowly went close to him. I tiptoed and raised my hand slowly aiming to clean the mess I made when his hands rose in the air clamped my wrists to halt. I stared at his eyes, they're frightening, deep inside you could see the fire, fire of something I couldn't figure out. "Just go back to your quarter," Capo Cole sighed interfering, he looked at me with authority.

Look at you. The thought was a venomous whisper. Look at what he did. What you let him do. What you begged for. Shame, hot and suffocating, washed over me, warring with the simmering anger that had begun to ignite beneath the humiliation. Used. Discarded. I couldn’t bear the sight. I tore at the ruined lingerie, the delicate lace tearing further in my haste. It pooled on the pristine tiles, a pathetic, expensive casualty. Turning the shower to cold, I stepped under the punishing spray. It shocked my skin, made me gasp. I scrubbed. Hard. With soap that smelled of nothing, trying to erase the sandalwood, the salt, the memory of his touch. I scrubbed my neck, my breasts, between my thighs where

My skin prickled with goosebumps, my ass still sticky with his cum, drying uncomfortably where I couldn’t clean it. The shredded lace of my lingerie lay in ruins across the floor, mocking me, while all I had left on was a damn garter belt. The neglect stung worse than the cuffs. The cold seeped deeper than the AC as it clawed at a memory I’d buried so far down I thought I’d killed it. Turns out I just pressed pause. •••••••• SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO.

I stepped into the freezing water, shivering as it stabbed into my skin. But I welcomed the cold. I needed it. Needed to feel something that wasn’t fear or pain or disgust. I scrubbed until my skin turned raw. Until the dried blood and sweat and filth were gone. But the shame? That stuck. Like rot beneath the surface. I kept going—hoping I could scrape the memory of his hands off me. But there’s no washing away that kind of filth. Not really. I should know better. Andrew’s filth is still stuck to my skin even after all this time.

David Pov I sit up, and that's when I see my torn shirt on the floor, and clothes scattered everywhere. The memories come crashing down. The heat, the shame, the desperate moans. My eyes widen in a silent scream. I look down, and my dick is already hard, a betrayal of my disgusted mind. Fuck. I scrambled for my jeans, putting it on and it all came rushing back: the knock on the door, the boy with the wild eyes, the taste of his mouth. It was a mistake.

I was just as filthy as the two people I had just walked in on. Was I even allowed to be angry? Or was I just mourning the loss of the lie? I stumbled back to my own dorm room, moving like a ghost. I stripped off my clothes and stood under the shower, turning the water up until it was scalding. I wanted to scrub the smell of the police station, the scent of Miguel’s skin, and the memory of Leo’s hands off my body. I stayed there until my skin was raw and red, but the feeling of being used up wouldn't go away.

he whispered. Joe’s expression darkened immediately. “How many reports did you manipulate?” The doctor hesitated. “How many?” Joe thundered. The doctor put his hands together as if pleading. “The major is the pregnancy results please.” All those years, Jasper looked at me like I was the problem while these people quietly planned and rewrote my life. My chest started hurting. I turned and walked toward the window, staring at the empty outside space. Memory after memory surfaced. The condoms in his pockets and in his car.

Whenever I remember that traumatic event I will always start to get paralyzed and feel disgusted with my body. But somehow, my tears dropped to Hugo's hand on my face which made him stop and not go further. He looked at me with terror in his eyes and immediately moved away from me. He took his glass of wine and left the living room to his pool area. He sat down on one of his bathing benches and just leaned over his knees while covering his head with both hands. I realized that he regretted doing that. He didn't choke me or do anything that could kill me any minute though it was just his approach was different. In doing intercourses, it should be both bodies that will desire it not one.

Forrest has long shed his once arrogant and overbearing attitude, then carrying himself with as much humility as his subordinates. Forrest was kicking himself. All because of a woman and a few hundred thousand bucks, he had crossed paths with Liam, a man who might as well have been the angel of death. He cursed Zane under his breath. If only he had not listened to that snake, he would not be in that mess with Liam.

I wait for the painful ache between my legs to come, This is what my friend told me when I met her after her marriage, That it was painful and for days she was unable to walk properly but it was pleasurable too. but it doesn't hurt. So he didn't rape me. I'm relieved. As I throw the Bear skin covers off of my body, I notice how scantily dressed I am. The cloth doesn't do much to hide my breasts or shield my legs. I understand that it's hot where we are, but to dress like this is a complete disgrace to me.