Fellows, I am curious to know what the tech diving scene is in Seattle and nearby area? I heard you guys have shore dives to 150 - 200 ft? Where do you all go for your tech training? Id love to connect with people from there for open circuit tech diving. Any advice? Suggestions?
I am looking to buy one without breaking the bank. Any good recommendations and warnings on what to avoid? What has been your experience so far?
I'd like to get a US made AK-47 clone without breaking the bank. Your good experiences and bad ones?
When we got married, my wife ordered a pretty expensive bed. It had 4 sliding drawers underneath that we used as storage. It lasted us for a long time but there was this one night when I was taking her to town when the bed broke. The two drawers under her side separated and collapsed completely but that did not deter me from giving her her rights.
Anyway, my wife comes from a culture where it is believed that when a bed breaks in such circumstances then that means that Allah SWT is about to bless your marriage! She started taking pictures of the broken drawers and sent it to a few of her friends who were all saying "MABROOK" and "MASHALLAH" recite four Quls specially Surah Falaq which is about hasad and evil eye etc.
My wife and I from two different cultures and in my culture we have never heard of any authentic tradition or hadeeth which would say that when a bed breaks during such circumstances then Allah SWT will bless the marriage???
It has been a few years and my wife does not allow me to to fix the bed even though the collapsed drawers can be repaired. When it happened, the drawers were under warranty but she would not allow them to be fixed. In their culture there is a saying "Very few women are fortunate to sleep on a broken bed!"
I am reaching out to Muslims from all cultures. Have you ever heard of this and what is the Islamic source of this?
I am quite strong as I lift weights. My bench is 230 for reps. Squat is 320 for reps and dead lift is 350 for reps. I weigh 210 lbs and I am a blue belt in Brazilian Jiujitsu with a lifetime of experience in martial arts. When I am rolling on the mat, you would have to be a much higher belt to deal with me because I can smash 160 lbs purple belts with strength even when my technique is bad.
My wife is a powerhouse who lifts weights but has no martial arts experience. She is 5.2 and solid. Her poundages are not what mine are but she but she can rep deadlifts at 220 lbs. She does not do squats due to knee issues but can bench press 45 lbs on incline. She does not do straight bar so I do not know how much it would be but she can rep with 45 lbs on incline.
She weights 220 lbs and trust me when I say this. None of it is flab! She is exaggerated hour glass with very large boobs, very round butt and a waist that is very small compared to the rest of her. If you looked at her, you would never be able to guess she is 220 lbs. You would think she is 175 max but nope. 220 lbs of solid mass.
If you ever wrestled with her, you would realize that this woman has no martial arts experience but is freakishly strong. Wrestling strength is different than weight lifting and she is like an immovable rock!
There was a time when we were at a barbeque. We were spraying each other with water blasters and things got physically playful We wrestled over a water blaster and it turned into a husband and wife wrestling match. Being 5.2, her center of gravity is much lower than mine as I am 5.10. I tried to push her but did not match the head level. She started to push me and I could not drop my level to match hers.
She pushed me a good 12 - 15 feet and threw me into the pool. I laughed it off but deep down it was embarrassing. People had their cell phone cameras out and it was shared in facebook as a funny moment. I did not have the courage to ask anyone to take it down as that would show that I am bothered. I pretended a convincing laugh.
To most people, it would not matter but as a grappling athlete and a man known for strength being rag-dolled by my wife is frustrating and humiliating. If she looked like a powerlifter then it would be easy to digest but she is all woman. You would never be able to look at her and say that this ultra feminine woman pushed her muscled up husband 10 feet and into the pool and he could do nothing about it.
Can I win a grappling match? Yes. I can take the fight to the ground and do whatever I want. But the stand up and the take down is one heck of a battle. We have play wrestled. It is quite unsettling the effort it is needed to submit her. Yes she is the woman I love so I hold back a bit. But it is a BATTLE! Even though it ends in victory, wrestling with my wife is still an emasculating experience.
The only way I can cope with it is to take her to bed and have sex with her. I am not the BDSM type and never been. But now I understand why people do all this femdom and paid wrestling with strong women. It is humiliation manifesting itself as something deeply erotic.
But once the sex is over, you have to deal with the fact that you even after years of martial arts training, jiujitsu and being physically stronger, this woman who has no martial arts training can show you your place. Sex is great but after that, you have to deal with the fact.
At times, it bothers me. I know people will have all sorts of things to say but this is a "confession" page so here I am.
Arguments happen in a marriage and then you kiss and make up. What if your wife tells you "I would totally leave you had it not been for your (expletive) here. You are such a jerk but you know how to (expletive.) That is what is keeping you in this marriage (wink)."
Would you take this as a playful compliment and blatant disrespect?
Serious question.
Opening Note: I was thinking whether to put this story in the category of “Personal Experience” or “Erotic NSFW,” because it is both. The lock out incident mentioned below is real, and so it the sex. But I have taken some creative liberty in re-telling of this memory so calling it “Erotic NFSW” instead of non-fiction or “personal experience” would be more appropriate.
This happened when we were staying at this beach property next to the sea. It had a door that would open with a magnetic card the way most hotel doors do. The difference was that it was a bungalow resort with all units having this single entrance with a curving walkway that would lead straight to the sandy beach. There was no lobby that was manned 24 hours. Instead the main office was a quarter mile walk down a paved sidewalk that tracked along the sandy beach.
Since it was our anniversary get away, my had gotten this lingerie piece from Amazon that was meant to be a surprise for me. She had a body that I worshipped and she loved displaying herself to get a reaction out of me. That night, she wanted to shower and prepare herself so to give her that privacy, I walked out the door and sat on one of the beach chairs at the back, overlooking the sea.
The moon was out and the breeze smelled of the ocean as I lay back on the chair relaxing to the sound of the waves during the night. Then I heard the door open and close and there was this sound of familiar footsteps. She came around the curing walkway, wearing this silky, black robe that was meant to conceal the surprise. I remember smelling pheromones mixed with the salty fragrance of the ocean nearby.
We chatted a bit, and then she stood up to open her robe. Underneath I could see a plunging neckline cut low to display her milky white orbs. They were coming together to form this deep cleavage, and their mass was lifted upwards to put on display the upper swells of her breasts. The woman had a rack that I could never get over, even after eight years of marriage. And, necklines like those were meant to make it seem like her boobs were trying to leap out. I got up thinking, I would take her to bed and fuck her brains out.
But, when we got to the door, she realized that she had left the entry cards inside! It was the biggest “Oh $hit” moment of our marriage because there was no reception desk nearby and we were not even sure if the main office was manned 24 hours. Having no choice, we decided to take a stroll along the sandy beach with waves occasionally splashing our feet.
When we got to the main office, it was closed with a sign that said, “For after hours arrivals and emergencies, call (XXX-XXX-XXXX) It never occurred to them that if someone had forgotten their card inside then their phones would also be inside and that note would do nothing for you.
We were locked outside! There was absolutely nothing to do till morning so we made this quarter mile walk back to our unit and found ourselves sitting in the lounge chairs looking at the stars. Once the initial shock of the situation went away, we realized that the night outside was really not that bad. It had a serene feel to it that started to grow on us.
I wanted to see what that new lingerie looked like and I asked her to reveal herself. She looked around and then stood up. Seeing no one in sight she pulled the robe off and dropped it behind her.
My wife is not a fragile woman but build solid, with quite an exaggerated hourglass silhouette. In her daily life, she dresses a bit loose and the clothes conceal her curves while making her look a little on the heavier side. But the world does not see what I get to see.
She was standing in front of me in a black one-piece sleeveless lingerie set. Her waist was not taking much space and when you have an inward curving waist, topped with an outward leaping bust line and a round butt then what you get is a shorter, sturdier, and bustier version of “Jessica Rabbit.” With a strong jawline, square face and a shoulder length blonde bob, she appears to be the sexy woman you do not want to piss off.
I sat up on the lounging chair and pulled her towards me. Her bust was in line with my face and as my arms went around her waist, I found my face moving into her cleavage. “Looks like you like the lingerie top, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yes it seems like it was built for your curves.” I replied and buried my face into her cleavage. Then I started kissing the upper swells of her breasts. The neckline was cut really low, and had it been any lower, you would see her nipples. But it was a tempting cut, that may be covered only a quarter of her lower tits while leaving almost all the top exposed.
“Dude, you are not even looking at me. Did you marry me or did you marry my boobs?” she asked.
“You have wrecked me,” I told her. She pulled down her neckline allowing the mass of her breasts to leap out in my face. I took my time kissing and sucking them. We had walked half a mile in total, to the main office and back and she was sweaty moisture on her that I loved to taste. It was just a bit salty perspiration that was mixed with the pheromones she had put on. I took my time tasting her fully exposed orbs before I took a hardened nipple in my mouth. My right arm embraced her from around the waist while my left hand went upwards in search of the mass of her breasts.
It found a heaving breast and I felt the weight of it in my palm. My fingers rolled an erect nipple while my mouth sucked on the other. She dropped her head back and moaned until my mouth released it and found the other one. I held her in my arms and worshipped each breast with my mouth. I could sense my wife getting aroused in my arms but I took my time with her.
“Oh my god, I want you to fuck me. .. now,” she said.
“Right here?”
“No. Somewhere more private.”
I looked around and there were two other units on our side. The one to the left we did not care about as it was a bit further out, closer the shoreline. The one on the right was in the direct line of sight. It was around 4 am and I was sure they were sleeping. Yet we were under the light of the patio and if anyone looked out, they would see us.
My wife and I are conservative and show very little PDA. Yes we have a good bedroom chemistry but one thing we are not is exhibitionists. We like to have sex for our own pleasures behind closed doors and do not like to perform. “Lets go in the dark, towards the water.” I suggested.
The next instant I was following my woman as she walked ahead of me her huge bosoms fully exposed and catching sea winds. I chased her all the way into the water where waves splashed against us. By the time I caught her we were in waist deep waters. I looked around and the units were all lined up along the sandy beach, mostly identical. They all had this back light that illuminated the back area of the house but once you moved out of the light pattern, it was dark except for the moonlight.
We were in the shadows, but could see each other well in the moonlight. Standing in waist deep waters, I pulled her into me and her exposed breasts pressed into my chest as we kissed, out tongues intertwined in a wrestling match. I kissed her neck, tasted the salt water down her neck and shoulders and then off of her heaving breasts.
“Fuck me! Lay me on the sand and fuck me,” she said.
I followed her out of the water and she turned around, dropping to her knees in sand. Then she pulled down my Bermuda shorts and sucked me. I was already hard but the woman knew how to suck. Over the course of this marriage I had trained her well in it and I can proudly say, most men would not last long in her mouth.
She knew her powers. She took me to the point of maximum hardness and said, “You are so ready!” Then I watched her lay on her back and spread her legs. I noticed that all this time, she had worn no panties. I went on my fours and crawled on her. We kissed and then I rose up to insert myself into her. Holding my erection in my hands, I traced myself down her slit until I sensed the sweet pleasure spot. It was tight and moist, and I heard her mutter, “Yes … that is it. Take me.”
I pushed myself in. It took me a couple of thrusts to bury myself into her to the hilt. Then I started fucking her. There was sand and sweat and stickiness in our bodies and that felt dirty and animalistic. I pumped in and out of her and she threw her head around in pleasure as I rocked her world. “Yes … like that. Fuck me like that!” I kissed her neck and shoulders while I fucked her raw. She was on fire that night.
My cock went in and out of her and with each thrust, I saw her massive breasts move up and down. I caused them to sway with each thrust and enjoyed the way they danced on their own to my movement. I know her body well enough to know when an orgasm is coming. “Oh my God I am gonna cum!” she said and then I held her in my arms as she tensed and shuddered.
When it was all over there was this look of bliss on her face. “Did you cum?” I asked.
“Yes but … I can cum again.” She said.
My cock was still hard and throbbing eager for its own release. I looked around and realized that the darkness was starting to leave us and the sky was definitely lighter. Though the sun had not come up, a few more minutes and we would be quite visible to anyone looking down towards the waves. We both felt naked and exposed.
Fortunately, a few feet away from us was an abandoned life guard watch station. It had a ladder that went up into a roofed shelter that was covered only from one side. The back which faced the line of beach huts. I went up the ladder and positioned myself on the leather padded chair. Then I looked down at my busty wife who had followed me up, her big tits rising and falling with each step with which she pulled herself upwards.
Once inside, the roof of the shelter was barely high enough for her to stand. She looked down at me sitting down on the chair and she straddled me from standing position. With my eyes enjoying the sight of her breasts, I watched as she descended down onto my erect cock. Both my hands went up her ribs to stabilize her as she went down, taking me in.
She took a moment, pulling down both the straps of her lingerie top until her shoulders were free, and the lingerie now heaped around her waist. With both her hands placed on the back rest of the chair, she rode me. I held her from the curve of her waist as she claimed me at her own pace. Her breasts flew up and down while she fucked me moaning loudly.
After all these years in marriage, she can look at my face and tell when I am about to cum. Every time she would sense that, she would slow down and come to a halt, with my throbbing cock still inside her. I would take this moment to suck her nipples and after a moment of breast worship, she would French kiss me deep in the mouth. Then she would start claiming me again, rising up and down on my cock.
I held my wife in my arms as sensations grew stronger, and she brought me closer and closer to my own release. Sensing that I had reached a point of no return, she let go of the back rest of the chair behind me to embrace me tightly. She held me in that right embrace with my face buried in her tits as her vagina tightened around. “Yes … give it to me now,” She said in a voice that was so self assured that I could not hold back.
I exploded holding her naked body in my tight embrace. We both convulsed holding each others nakedness against our bodies, and spasms after spasms of raw pleasure rocked us. She held me tightly claiming me load after load until I was all hers. After owning me completely from my body to my soul she relaxed her weight on me and we just stayed like that feeling each others breathing.
Then we came down and spent the next few moments enjoying the waves and the time just flew so fast. Soon I was heading to the main office to get a duplicate card so that we could go in and sleep.
That memory remains one of the best memories I have with this woman.
Infantry is trained for assault warfare. They get bombed out while holding the trenches. Up until Rambo, most military movies glorified the infantry. What happened? Since when did special forces became "badder?" and what did they do to earn their "badness?"
Infantry squads carry more firepower. They do more "dirty fighting," Why is every hero in Hollywood a "former special forces?"
If you were to ask me whether I had a happy and normal childhood, I would tell you yes. I believed I did until I went for therapy.
My earliest memories are not wanting to be around my mother. We lived in an apartment and every time my dad would leave for work, I remember wanting to go to work with him and crying when he left. I had severe anxiety around my mother for reasons I do not recall. All I recall is a cold and distant woman who caused me anxiety.
I remember the school bus what would come to pick me up. It was scary! There was overcrowding sitting with kids I did not know and I had severe separation anxiety. When the bus would come, I would run to hide behind my mother.
She beat me up! I was hiding behind her begging to not put me on the bus because I was scared of being alone and she took a toy gun (water rifle) held it from the barrel and beat me severely with the butt. I recall explosions on my butt as I was being taken to the bus by the maid. My mom continued to follow me all the way to the door to hit my butt repeatedly till I was out of the house.
A few days later, I tried to bring it up over the dinner table explaining that I get anxiety in the bus. She said, "You said that again? Where is the rifle!" She said in a threatening voice and I said "No I did not say that!"
Then came grade 3! I once left the house without saying bye to my mother. I walked to the school which was in our neighborhood and all the kids were gathered in a playground where we would have the morning assembly and national anthem. A few minutes later I saw my mother walking with long determined strides like she was coming to sort me out.
She pulled me aside next to a pillar and scolded me in front of the whole school. I recall kids looking at me and it was humiliating. She told me to not have an attitude with her or she would sort me out. I had left without saying bye because she was not a pleasant woman to talk to. Here she was putting me in my place in front of the whole school watching.
When she saw me tearing up she walked away and I fell down near the pillar and cried in fetal position with all the kids gathering around trying to console me. I was too embarrassed to show my face. The word went around that his mother made him cry and left him on the floor.
The therapy I got at a later part of my life made me question why she was like that. The therapist asked, "Can you do all this to your child?" I told her no. I had to do some digging and found out the disturbing truth. Multiple family members confirmed what I write below.
Everyone in our social circle thought that my mother was a very pious woman. The truth was something else entirely. My mother could not experience sexual urges. She was a woman who never felt sex drive. She was also disinterested in motherhood. When I was born, she developed problems with her uterus giving birth to me. She blamed that on me and that, couples with a pre-existing repulsion towards motherhood caused her to not want to see or hold me when I was born. "Take him away! I do not want to see him!" she said when I came out.
Everyone told her that that is your baby and you should be grateful to Allah but she avoided holding me. When she took me home, she would refuse me breast milk and starve me. My dad called my grand mother (her mom) and told her that he thinks the my life is in danger and my mother is very capable of hurting me. My grand mother moved in to live with us just so that she could protect me from being killed by my mother. She had to watch me all the time.
One day, she was not successful. I was learning to walk and about to take my first steps when granny went to the bathroom. All hell broke lose! When she came out my mother had beaten me up very badly causing bruising and marks. My dad came home, saw the bruising and the injuries and got physical with her. He had to be peeled off. I have no memory of all this as my memory begins with not wanting to be alone with my mother for reasons I do not recall.
She did not want to have sex with my dad. I recall him bringing cake and flowers and repeatedly asking her for something I did not understand then. I remember a few fights and did not realize what they were about. She refused him sex because the child had been born and she did not owe it to him anymore after that.
He finally had to make a choice. Divorce and leave. This the society would understand but it would cause me to be raised in a broken home by a mother who would not longer be supervised into not hurting me. She did not have a professional degree and was incapable of earning for herself. Divorce, as much as it would be morally and Islamically right, would put her out on the street.
He was too compassionate to do the Islamic thing and leave her. He started cheating on her. This ensured that she would still get all the Islamic rights of a wife without having to do the Islamic duties in bed. She did not like that. When she found out they started fighting. He said, "I am doing you a favor by cheating on you! If you want a "moral, Islamic husband" then get out of my life. Divorcing you is the "Islamic" thing."
She had info on him now. She threatened that if he ever left her, she is going public! This he got trapped in a sexless marriage! Unable to cheat, unable to leave, forced to watch porn and masturbate while she lived off of his income. She trapped him.
There is a word for "cheaters," but I wish languages of the world had a term for evil wives like my mother. We have none!
When I reached puberty, my dad started to hate me. I do not know why but it was pure hate and envy. On one hand he thought that it was my birth that caused my mothers uterus problems causing her sex drive to collapse so his miserable marriage was my fault. Secondly, people mention that I was entering a youthful age and he could not see a man with rising sexual energy, something he had wasted.
Short is that one day I woke up and he was no longer the father I recognized. He was a monster who enforced the three second rule! When he called, I had to answer in 3 seconds. If there was a second call, then it would never be gentle or polite. It would come as vicious verbal abuse. I had to remain alert all the time waiting for a call that never came. But when it did come, I would never hear it and then there would be all out verbal abuse.
How long can you stay constantly alert in your own house! I could not listen to music or do anything but wait for the call. It was constant mentally exhausting torture that caused me anxiety disorder that I never recovered from.
We went to Disney World for the first time. He gave me a video camcorder and told me that I was there as a camera man and he wants every second to be recorded. If I relaxed the camera even for a minute he would ask if I captured that scene? Id say no and it was all out abuse! Imagine holding the camera for 8 hours and then the second day and the third day.
That was Disney World for me.
Then he cheated and I took the hit for it. I remember my mother beating me up severely when I was 16 and I do not recall what it was even about. My younger brother had complained about me over something silly and my mother started punching me. These were not symbolic but Mike Tyson style blows delivered in my stomach and face to do damage. She asked me to apologize for something I do not even recall. I did not because I had become defiant. She took a broom and then a belt and hit me in the face repeatedly. Maid and the gardner both had to peel her off of me.
I had fever that night. She came, felt my head, left a glass of water and a tablet and walked away.
Then came my 20s. I was in a very high paying job but I was not allowed to date or get married. This was a culture where dating without the intent of marriage was frowned upon and marriage was initiated by your older generation.
"I have seen people get married in their 60s!" she would say. In other words, forced celibacy! This was a woman who never had sex drive and could not understand what it is like to crave it. Any discussion on the topic would bring out the hateful rejectionist because she would see my cheating father in me.
Dad died. She lived and turned me into a younger version of my dad. Porn addict!
I finally left my home country at the age of 33. By that time I had developed serious anxiety disorder and erectile disfunction. Celibacy is not healthy and I learnt why. It caused ED! I was put on testosterone injections and all sorts of medications to rectify that. Now, I have to inject myself twice a month with TRT to claim the days that I lost to the morals and values of this mad woman!
I went back home and confronted her with medical paper work. I told her that is what you did to me. She had no remorse, no shame. Kept pointing out family members who married late and said that they never complained. "Because the were getting it behind your back just like dad!"
As a woman who has never experienced sexual urge, she continues to believe that my pain is not real. It is made up and exaggerated.I hate my mother! When my father died, I did not cry. When she goes? I do not believe I would. I owe my parents no tears.
They say paradise is under the feet of your mother but her??? Are you sure about that now?
If you were to ask me whether I had a happy and normal childhood, I would tell you yes. I believed I did until I went for therapy.
My earliest memories are not wanting to be around my mother. We lived in an apartment and every time my dad would leave for work, I remember wanting to go to work with him and crying when he left. I had severe anxiety around my mother for reasons I do not recall. All I recall is a cold and distant woman who caused me anxiety.
I remember the school bus what would come to pick me up. It was scary! There was overcrowding sitting with kids I did not know and I had severe separation anxiety. When the bus would come, I would run to hide behind my mother.
She beat me up! I was hiding behind her begging to not put me on the bus because I was scared of being alone and she took a toy gun (water rifle) held it from the barrel and beat me severely with the butt. I recall explosions on my butt as I was being taken to the bus by the maid. My mom continued to follow me all the way to the door to hit my butt repeatedly till I was out of the house.
A few days later, I tried to bring it up over the dinner table explaining that I get anxiety in the bus. She said, "You said that again? Where is the rifle!" She said in a threatening voice and I said "No I did not say that!"
Then came grade 3! I once left the house without saying bye to my mother. I walked to the school which was in our neighborhood and all the kids were gathered in a playground where we would have the morning assembly and national anthem. A few minutes later I saw my mother walking with long determined strides like she was coming to sort me out.
She pulled me aside next to a pillar and scolded me in front of the whole school. I recall kids looking at me and it was humiliating. She told me to not have an attitude with her or she would sort me out. I had left without saying bye because she was not a pleasant woman to talk to. Here she was putting me in my place in front of the whole school watching.
When she saw me tearing up she walked away and I fell down near the pillar and cried in fetal position with all the kids gathering around trying to console me. I was too embarrassed to show my face. The word went around that his mother made him cry and left him on the floor.
The therapy I got at a later part of my life made me question why she was like that. The therapist asked, "Can you do all this to your child?" I told her no. I had to do some digging and found out the disturbing truth. Multiple family members confirmed what I write below.
Everyone in our social circle thought that my mother was a very pious woman. The truth was something else entirely. My mother could not experience sexual urges. She was a woman who never felt sex drive. She was also disinterested in motherhood. When I was born, she developed problems with her uterus giving birth to me. She blamed that on me and that, couples with a pre-existing repulsion towards motherhood caused her to not want to see or hold me when I was born. "Take him away! I do not want to see him!" she said when I came out.
Everyone told her that that is your baby and you should be grateful to Allah but she avoided holding me. When she took me home, she would refuse me breast milk and starve me. My dad called my grand mother (her mom) and told her that he thinks the my life is in danger and my mother is very capable of hurting me. My grand mother moved in to live with us just so that she could protect me from being killed by my mother. She had to watch me all the time.
One day, she was not successful. I was learning to walk and about to take my first steps when granny went to the bathroom. All hell broke lose! When she came out my mother had beaten me up very badly causing bruising and marks. My dad came home, saw the bruising and the injuries and got physical with her. He had to be peeled off. I have no memory of all this as my memory begins with not wanting to be alone with my mother for reasons I do not recall.
She did not want to have sex with my dad. I recall him bringing cake and flowers and repeatedly asking her for something I did not understand then. I remember a few fights and did not realize what they were about. She refused him sex because the child had been born and she did not owe it to him anymore after that.
He finally had to make a choice. Divorce and leave. This the society would understand but it would cause me to be raised in a broken home by a mother who would not longer be supervised into not hurting me. She did not have a professional degree and was incapable of earning for herself. Divorce, as much as it would be morally and Islamically right, would put her out on the street.
He was too compassionate to do the Islamic thing and leave her. He started cheating on her. This ensured that she would still get all the Islamic rights of a wife without having to do the Islamic duties in bed. She did not like that. When she found out they started fighting. He said, "I am doing you a favor by cheating on you! If you want a "moral, Islamic husband" then get out of my life. Divorcing you is the "Islamic" thing."
She had info on him now. She threatened that if he ever left her, she is going public! This he got trapped in a sexless marriage! Unable to cheat, unable to leave, forced to watch porn and masturbate while she lived off of his income. She trapped him.
There is a word for "cheaters," but I wish languages of the world had a term for evil wives like my mother. We have none!
When I reached puberty, my dad started to hate me. I do not know why but it was pure hate and envy. On one hand he thought that it was my birth that caused my mothers uterus problems causing her sex drive to collapse so his miserable marriage was my fault. Secondly, people mention that I was entering a youthful age and he could not see a man with rising sexual energy, something he had wasted.
Short is that one day I woke up and he was no longer the father I recognized. He was a monster who enforced the three second rule! When he called, I had to answer in 3 seconds. If there was a second call, then it would never be gentle or polite. It would come as vicious verbal abuse. I had to remain alert all the time waiting for a call that never came. But when it did come, I would never hear it and then there would be all out verbal abuse.
How long can you stay constantly alert in your own house! I could not listen to music or do anything but wait for the call. It was constant mentally exhausting torture that caused me anxiety disorder that I never recovered from.
We went to Disney World for the first time. He gave me a video camcorder and told me that I was there as a camera man and he wants every second to be recorded. If I relaxed the camera even for a minute he would ask if I captured that scene? Id say no and it was all out abuse! Imagine holding the camera for 8 hours and then the second day and the third day.
That was Disney World for me.
Then he cheated and I took the hit for it. I remember my mother beating me up severely when I was 16 and I do not recall what it was even about. My younger brother had complained about me over something silly and my mother started punching me. These were not symbolic but Mike Tyson style blows delivered in my stomach and face to do damage. She asked me to apologize for something I do not even recall. I did not because I had become defiant. She took a broom and then a belt and hit me in the face repeatedly. Maid and the gardner both had to peel her off of me.
I had fever that night. She came, felt my head, left a glass of water and a tablet and walked away.
Then came my 20s. I was in a very high paying job but I was not allowed to date or get married. This was a culture where dating without the intent of marriage was frowned upon and marriage was initiated by your older generation.
"I have seen people get married in their 60s!" she would say. In other words, forced celibacy! This was a woman who never had sex drive and could not understand what it is like to crave it. Any discussion on the topic would bring out the hateful rejectionist because she would see my cheating father in me.
Dad died. She lived and turned me into a younger version of my dad. Porn addict!
I finally left my home country at the age of 33. By that time I had developed serious anxiety disorder and erectile disfunction. Celibacy is not healthy and I learnt why. It caused ED! I was put on testosterone injections and all sorts of medications to rectify that. Now, I have to inject myself twice a month with TRT to claim the days that I lost to the morals and values of this mad woman!
I went back home and confronted her with medical paper work. I told her that is what you did to me. She had no remorse, no shame. Kept pointing out family members who married late and said that they never complained. "Because the were getting it behind your back just like dad!"
As a woman who has never experienced sexual urge, she continues to believe that my pain is not real. It is made up and exaggerated.I hate my mother! When my father died, I did not cry. When she goes? I do not believe I would. I owe my parents no tears.
They say paradise is under the feet of your mother but her??? Are you sure about that now?
If you were to ask me whether I had a happy and normal childhood, I would tell you yes. I believed I did until I went for therapy.
My earliest memories are not wanting to be around my mother. We lived in an apartment and every time my dad would leave for work, I remember wanting to go to his work with him and crying when he left. I had severe anxiety around my mother for reasons I could never recall. All I recall is a cold and distant woman who causes anxiety.
I remember the school bus what would come to pick me up. It was scary! There was overcrowding sitting with kids I did not know and having severe separation anxiety. When the bus would come, I would run to hide behind my mother.
She beat me up. I was hiding behind her begging to not put me on the bus because I was scared of being along and she took a toy gun (water rifle) held it from the barrel and beat me severely with the butt. I recall explosions on my butt as I was being taken to the bus by the maid. My mom continued to follow me all the way to the door to hit my butt repeatedly till I was out of the house. A few days later, I tried to bring it up over the dinner table that I get anxiety. "Again? Where is the rifle!" She said in a threatening voice and I shut up.
Then came grade 3! I once left the house without saying bye to my mother. I walked to the school which was in our neighborhood and all the kids were gathered in a playground where we would have the morning assembly and national anthem. I saw my mother walking with long determined strides like she was coming to sort me out.
She pulled me aside next to a pillar and scolded me in front of the whole school. I recall kids looking at me and it was humiliating. She told me to not have an attitude with her or she would sort me out. I left because she was not a pleasant woman to talk to. Here she was putting me in my place in front of the whole school.
When she left, I fell down near the pillar and cried in fetal position with all the kids gathering around trying to console me. The word went around that his mother made him cry and left him on the floor.
The therapy I got at a later age made me question why she was like that. I had to do some digging and found out the disturbing truth. Multiple family members confirmed the same story.
My mother could not experience sexual urges. She was a woman who never felt sex drive. She was also disinterested in motherhood. When I was born, she developed problems with her uterus. It was either that or her repulsion towards motherhood that caused her to not want to see or hold me when I was born. "Take him away! I do not want to see him!"
Everyone told her that that is your baby and she avoided holding me. When she took me home, she would refuse me breast milk and starve me. My dad called my grand mother (her mom) and told her that he thinks the babies life is in danger and she is very capable of hurting me. My grand mother moved in to live with us just so that she could protect me from being hurt by my mother.
One day, she was not successful. I was learning to walk and about to take my first steps when granny went to the bathroom. All hell broke lose! When she came out my mother had beaten me up very badly causing bruising and marks. My dad came home, saw the bruising and got physical with her. He had to be peeled off. I have no memory of all this as my memory begins with not wanting to be alone with my mother for reasons I do not recall.
She did not want to have sex with my dad. I recall him trying to bring cake and flowers and asking her for something I did not understand. I remember a few fights and did not realize what they were about. She refused him sex because the child had been born. He finally had to make a choice. Divorce and leave, which the society would understand. It would cause me to be raised in a broken home and he did not want that. My mother did not have a professional degree and was incapable of earning for herself. Divorce, as much as it would be morally right, would put her out on the street!
He was too compassionate to do the moral thing and leave her. He started cheating on her. This ensured that she would still get all the rights of a wife without having to do the duties. She did not like that. When she found out they started fighting. He said, "I am doing you a favor by cheating on you! If you want a "moral husband" then get out of my life. Divorcing you is the "moral" things."
She had info on him now. She threatened that if he ever left her, she is going public! This he got trapped in a sexless marriage! Unable to cheat, unable to leave, forced to watch porn and masturbate while she lived off of his income.
There is a word for "cheaters," but I wish languages of the world had a term for evil wives like my mother. We have none!
When I reached puberty, my dad started to hate me. I do not know why but it was pure hate and envy. On one hand he thought that it was my birth that caused my mothers uterus problems causing her sex drive to collapse so his miserable marriage was my fault. Secondly, people mention that I was entering a youthful age and he could not see a man with rising sexual energy, something he had wasted.
Short is that one day I woke up and he was no longer the father I recognized. He was a monster who enforced the three second rule! When he called, I had to answer in 3 seconds. If there was a second call, then it would never be gentle or polite. It would come as vicious verbal abuse. I had to remain alert all the time waiting for a call that never came. But when it did come, I would never hear it and then there would be all out verbal abuse.
How long can you stay constantly alert in your own house! I could not listen to music or do anything but wait for the call. It was constant mentally exhausting torture that caused me anxiety disorder that I never recovered from.
We went to Disney World for the first time. He gave me a video camcorder and told me that I was there as a camera man and he wants every second to be recorded. If I relaxed the camera even for a minute he would ask if I captured that scene? Id say no and it was all out abuse! Imagine holding the camera for 8 hours and then the second day and the third day.
That was Disney World for me.
Then he cheated and I took the hit for it. I remember my mother beating me up severely when I was 16 and I do not recall what it was even about. My younger brother had complained about me over something silly and my mother started punching me. These were not symbolic but Mike Tyson style blows delivered in my stomach and face to do damage. She asked me to apologize for something I do not even recall. I did not because I had become defiant. She took a broom and then a belt and hit me in the face repeatedly. Maid and the gardner both had to peel her off of me.
I had fever that night. She came, felt my head, left a glass of water and a tablet and walked away.
Then came my 20s. I was in a very high paying job but I was not allowed to date or get married. This was a culture where dating without the intent of marriage was frowned upon and marriage was initiated by your older generation.
"I have seen people get married in their 60s!" she would say. In other words, forced celibacy! This was a woman who never had sex drive and could not understand what it is like to crave it. Any discussion on the topic would bring out the hateful rejectionist because she would see my cheating father in me.
Dad died. She lived and turned me into a younger version of my dad. Porn addict!
I finally left my home country at the age of 33. By that time I had developed serious anxiety disorder and erectile disfunction. I was put on testosterone injections and all sorts of medications to rectify that. Now, I have to inject myself twice a month to claim the days that I lost to the morals and values of this mad woman!
I went back home and confronted her with medical paper work. I told her that is what you did to me. She had no remorse, no shame. Kept pointing out family members who married late and said that they never complained. "Because the were getting it behind your back just like dad!"
As a woman who has never experienced sexual urge, she continues to believe that my pain is not real. It is made up and exaggerated.
I hate my mother! When my father died, I did not cry. When she goes? I do not believe I would. I owe my parents no tears. It still makes me wonder if what I went was "normal" and I am just reading too much?
I have been married for almost 10 years now and my wife used to be my direct supervisor at a previous job. She had interviewed me for that job along with two others and had direct input in hiring me. I joined her team and she trained me and was also my first mentor at that job.
During those years, I started hinting indirectly that I had hots for her. I would initially tell her that I appreciate her very much and I was very lucky to have her. These comments are professional only up to a certain level and if they are reworded and given constantly, then there is a romantic connotation.
She confronted me politely, asking me where did I intend to go with such compliments? I asked her if I had her permission to open up to her? She said that she has always had an open door policy so that her team can discuss any matter.
I let her have it! I told her that she was graceful, attractive and I would like to take her out and have sex with her. If the nature of our professional relationship makes it inappropriate then I would like to resign, if she promises to go out with me.
She said she would not like to lose my as an employee and I would not get a job offer that I have. This back and forth continued and she tried to discourage it but I would not quit. I was quite fearless because I felt even if HR kicks me out, I will get a job but I may not get a woman like that so I will try.
During those months, my conduct was not professional and had she reported me, Id get a boot! She told me that too but I told her that she is worth the risk. This led to us having a off work relationship that we kept secret. During the time that I was sleeping with her at her place, I was still reporting to her at work.
Then I proposed to her and quit the job. She accepted and a few months later she also quit. We started out own private company and also got married. We have run that business together for almost 10 years now and we have a small team of employees.
I found out that during those initial years when I was "hitting" on her, she was noting down everything. Each word! She was not sending it to anyone but making a record of it all with dates. Journaling.
I asked her about it and she confessed that there was a time when she had intended to send all those conversations to HR had I pressed it any further. I asked her why? She said it would have been the right thing to do. I asked her why she didnt. She said she still does not know why she allowed those advances! She wanted to have me kicked out for inappropriate sexual misconduct but she could not because she loved it and hated herself for loving the attention. She says it was her fault as much as it was mine.
I asked her if she regretted it? She said she is glad to be married to me. In her own words, what I did was "fucked up and reckless" but she is glad I did it. She has been a very loving wife, and a very good business partner and we have a perfect marriage but I do not know how to process this. I sometimes wonder if I married someone who thinks low of me?
Just uncluttering my mind.
tl;dr wife thinks I was inappropriate towards her at work and the right thing would have been to report me and destroy my career. She is glad she didnt.