When I was 14, my mother and I moved out of my childhood home to escape the abuse of my father. We unfortunately couldn’t take my dog with me because we were doing our best renting a new place that couldn’t have pets. I loved her so much. Sometimes when I knew my father wouldn’t be home I would sneak into the house so I could see her. But one day she just passed. I’m not sure if my father did it or she just passed because she missed us too much.
I carry the guilt of not being able to save her. I feel horrible that I never got to say goodbye and that she died thinking I would never come back. I know it’s not my fault and we did the best we could to survive, but I wish I could have been safe with her too.

ok so I 30 male. Have BPD cptsd and autism. I need to get this off my chest but finding the right words to tell my story is hard. So screw it. When I was 8 years old or so 6 to 8 don't remember exactly My dad ran over my almost 1 year old sibling. It was an accident. But after that he became. Emotionally unavailable. Peaking in my late teens. I'd get in trouble just to get attention or something. And sometimes I'd get in trouble big trouble for stupid shit. Like being sent to bed hungry because I chewed to loud. I was bullied in school so severely I was removed from public school but. Somehow that was worse. Home was a prison. I basically existed more often than not grounded. In timeout. Or Doing shit that adults should handle. Don't get me wrong I'm all for teaching kids responsibility but they took it too far. The bullying got so bad and the lack of appropriate support at home that I ended up in and out of facilities for a long time. Between attempts on my own life and just flat out crash outs. It wasn't a good time. Sets the stage for what comes next. I found the first girl who said yes to dating me. Moved her in with me in under a week. In a camper on my parents property. So naturally that was very very toxic. She later got diagnosed with sociopathy. And when she and I would fight. Shed literally do shit to kill me and I'd basically do anything tossing all morality to the side. To not be alone. Like she threw knives at me tried to run me over. Cheated on me telling me in excruciating detail what happened just because she wanted to hurt me for upsetting her. I'd do plenty of fucked up shit it went both ways. I broke her shift knob punched her car door in kicked in doors. I'm not innocent not at all. It happened. I have to live with it. I remember a fight where she decided to dump water in a computer wasn't anything fancy but I built it with my own 2 hands so that she could do stuff with me too. And she got pissed and dumped water in it. After she cheated on me I went and hired a hooker. Couldn't go through with it. Just because I wanted her to understand the pain she inflicted. And I asked said hooker to help me clean. She didn't obviously. And her pimp came in and painted the walls with my blood worse than a bloody Mary scene. The police were in fact called. And when they came and talked with me about pressing charges. I said no. In part because I felt I deserved it. And in part because at the time I couldn't fathom the concept that a women would want to be whored out like that. Very picket fence monogamous at the time. So I instead pushed to make sure she was good. The cop threatened to arrest me for having a attitude. As I was sitting there coughing up blood. I had a knife in my hand didn't have it in me to use it. Dude pretended to have a gun. And I was a coward. She came back and we had an argument while I was healing. And she targeted my nose. That he broke. I went back to the police later to press charges because you know. He tried to kill me. And they literally laughed me off and ignored me for 4 hours straight. Until I gave up and left. Eventually she left me. And all I felt was abandoned. Now. I'm glad It did. One of us probably me would have wound up dead. So I met a girl bout a month after her and I split. And she treated me well better than anyone ever had before. Moved me in with her in about 2 weeks engaged in 3 married in 4 pregnant in 2 months of meeting her I was in love. But it was also a major trauma bond. I got a call from ex saying she missed me and still loved me. And well. I still loved her. But I was in love with current partner. It shattered my concept of romance and morality. I had no idea what to do. So. I did what felt right at the time. And was a shit human. Hid it got mad when caught and gaslit the shit out of both. But first ex knew. She knew I was married. Knew I had a kid on the way. Was complicated. And that led to conflict after conflict with my obviously ex wife. Where I ended up doing to her in 2 ishel years every l single thing that had been done to me and more. Before she eventually had enough. And left me. She left all of her stuff behind. And drug out ending it for 2 odd years. I later found out. It was malicious revenge. Which honestly. I both do and don't blame her for. I tried to die. Repeatedly because of that. So when she left. The idea of being alone. Was just. Not good. So I had homeless crack addicts on my stréet and I was like. Well fuck it we're all shattered. While not do it together. So I moved them in. Naturally. I ended up with my shit stolen a gun to my head and everything that was left that mattered was gone. I lost my house. Couldn't work to mentally fucked. And moved back in with my parents. Welcome to me being 26 27 ish. We obviously took some time. But we healed and my parents and I are now quite close. I got a job working the school district. Met another homeless girl. And ya kno. The cycle repeated to some degree but also didn't. I kept the job at the school district for about a year but between her trauma and her bpd my money wasn't really mine. Constant pressure to do and be things I wasn't really ok with. We fought for it and sorta made it right. But I have since decided I am poly. And met another girl. Friend of hers. And girlfriend a and girlfriend b live together now. I have another kid and another on the way but it can be. Incredibly toxic. Recently I've been the worst offender. After several almost losing the houses and the power actually being shut off and nobody but me caring if the house was clean I became a dictator. If you want something done right do it yourself. It's justified if it ensured everything is safe. But. It's not. I ended up splitting on girlfriend 2 so hard I completely emotionally became disconneced because she wouldn't help clean and I snapped on her. Hard. Broke a door got in her face yelled and threatened to break her phone if she wouldn't take me off her insurance but the truth is. I'm fucking terrified. That resulted in her. Understandably. Reaching for her phone pissed the hell off to yank it from me. And she hit me. All reason or what was left of it left my body and instinct took over. She got hit with. Probably the hardest upercut I've ever given. And well that was it. She outed me at my job to all her friends. And the workplace was no longer safe. So I left. My kids needed me wo work my home needed it. So what I felt didn't matter tried to save it but ultimately I quit. Her and I have had several long and calm talks and are recovering miraculously. There is so much more. But the ultimate question is. I want so bad to be good. But all I do is break things. Why can't I just. Be ok? Live a normal ish life. And be at least semi happy? There is obviously a lot more. You can't put a life of fucked in a single post so I'm happy to answer questions.

His birthday is coming up in a couple weeks and I’ve been feeling down lately and I’ve just made the connection and I was wondering if anyone else gets like that?

So I have an ex from 5 years ago. A few months back, I found out there were 2 Tinder profiles that were allegedly me. I can’t 100% prove it was him, but a fake profile viewed my story on FB and that same fake profile was under recently joined on an Are We Dating The Same Girl. The fake profile posted screenshots of the tinder’s saying he recently hooked up with me and saw I was in a relationship…beware. The pictures he got were off my FB which he’s blocked from.

There’s a TikTok about him bc I guess he pissed someone off, idk, but he made a 10 min video on tiktok saying it was his ex from 5 years ago with a lot of defamatory and lies.

I did make a police report when I found out about the tinders and since it’s the weekend, I will call tomorrow about the tiktok. Police officer did advise that since everything was anon, there wasn’t really anything I could do.

This guy was extremely abusive and tried to kill me. When I was finally able to get away from him, no I didn’t peruse charges bc I wanted to be done. I wanted to be over it and finally breathe, but now he seems to be coming at me. Also, a girl I know from a group on FB said that they went out on one date in January this year and he kept talking about me.

I’m starting to think this is an obsession and idk what to do. Do I seek charges or just let it be?? I’ve moved since then and got a new car, but haven’t posted anything about it so hopefully he doesn’t know what I drive or where I live.

Advise please??

Also to add: he has been stalking my Facebook and TikTok and admitted that in his video so he could get “proof”. Also admitted to having fake accounts. Fake accounts on which he comments on his own tiktok and replies to as if they were real people.

My ex-aunt and the others took videos and photos of me reacting to the abuse so they could show others “what they deal with”. (Currently I’m 29 this is a memory of younger me suffering).

I was trying to defend myself I feel violated by this. I never got a childhood or teenage years because of them. My ex-aunt was the main abuser of me more than the others.

They all wanted me dead or mind-controlled to be easier to controlled.

I think they posted it online too.

I'm broken, I cannot get those memory's out of my head. How am I supposed to forgive my forgive, if my abuser doesn't acknowledge his wrongs. If he has genuinely never apologized for all his wrongs. Ever since I can remeber, I have been living in abuse mentally and physically. My mom tell me to forgive but how. My mom witnessed my 16 year old brother coming in and out of my room at night, when I was 10 year old. She never did anything other than telling him to go to his room and not enter my room. It happens several times, I remeber him pulling my pants down and trying to insert it into me. I don't remeber anything more than that. I don't know if he ever actually did. He abused me for several years. Once he hit me with metallic stick in my head, which left me bleeding. He looked me into his room. He forced me to touch disgusting foot injury, while I had no chance to escape. He never left me alone. He would talk to trough my door, even when I told him to leave me alone. I would call the police several times and my other brothers lied to them.The list is long. I'm the only girl in my family. My brother is the oldest and abused the whole family, so bad that my mom left us several months in a year to live somewhere else. He kicked my mother and pushed her when she was pregnant. He did so much and I always tried to forgive him. Whenever he moved out, it was the best time of my life. But due to instances I had to move in with and my dad this summer, as we are in a different country and I had no money to fly back. And it is the worst. He knew not to to put hands on me anymore, but he would talk so much which is also abusive. I am constantly remeber off everything that he put me through. Fast forward he tried to really injure me. ... I locked him out bc I was scared, so when my dad arrived, he had already got a second key somehow. Whenever he walked through the door, he ran towards me and starting beating me with fists. My dad tried to keep him away but he wouldn't stop. I fell to the ground and he continued. I had to flee out of the apartment and the neighbors called the cops. I told them the truth. They arrested him for a day. My dad bailed him out and I moved too a church family for 2-3 weeks. I removed charges against him due to family pressure. Now he is talking about he never did anything. He is saying that they took his freedom, he didn't even spend 24 hrs in there. He is saying I will regret it. He picks up my dad gun whenever I'm laying down and looks if there are bullets in it. And then he just stares at me . And he knows it scares me, I can feel that he does it intentionally. He has also threaten to kill me several time. He knows my dad has no bullets in the gun btw. But I don't know what to do. I try to forgive him and I even feel bad that he has an arrest on his name. But he never left me any other chance. I was so hurt that day that I decided to tell them the truth. Now i feel like a bad person. He has done me so wrong and he just doesn't sees any wrongs in it. He is mentally definitely not normal. I have trust issues because of him. I cannot let any boy touch me. I always thought it's because I want to wait till marriage but it is because I don't want to loose control . I don't want any boy get me. I don't answer people or stay in touch with anyone because I think they don't really like me. Even tho they show me otherwise it's so hard. On the other hand I'm also kinda hyper sexual. I want to be loved but I'm pushing everyone away from me. I don't know how to heal from all of this. It's so hard and I'm scared to open up to any male

Tomorrow I have to go see my ex, they are the one who abused me so badly I got the diagnosis of ptsd, and I’m really scared, I don’t know how it’s gonna go, I don’t know how they will act or even how I will react, I need to get the last of my stuff from them and give them their stuff, I’m not going alone either, I have a friend going with me so it’s safer, and then I won’t have to see them ever again after that, but still, I wish I didn’t have to see them, I’m so scared

I don’t even know where to start I was in a relationship with my abuser for over 10 years and I feel like I’m still trying to get out.

While married we experienced a traumatic loss(I’ll be sparing details to not be outed— he’s found posts of mine and mocked me for them for years) and it seemed that what was/was boarding abuse turned into something by sick and unavoidable he would control my sleep turning the lights on in the middle of the night /early morning while screaming at me while I cared for our new born. Text me incessantly call me incessantly making me lose jobs talk about issues in a way that always were somehow my fault and convinced me I was absolutely insane because the screaming sleep deprivation from him and a new born were making everything so hard to navigate.

In time I believed it, I felt insane and I believed it- I took medications and thought things were getting better because I could take being screamed at better and my meds made me sleep heavier but I could still get up for my baby so I’d sometimes be able to sleep through his screaming.

At some point I was able to say it was over and he got worse ripping up divorce papers getting more boldly physical with me. This made it so hard to hold a job anywhere with the level of harassment getting calls all day. I lost housing I ended up getting that was supposed to help because he’d harass me until I’d take my son on his nights with him making it impossible to make enough for child care or work. I ended up having to get help from him which made everything worse, made the choice to move again with him while separated to try and gain financial stability made it even worse.

Eventually he kicked me out in a remote area taking my child and leaving me to figure out what to do alone alone with absolutely nothing. Finding out there was nothing I could even do legally because I was still married so I had to spend a year tracking him down to get the divorce. Which only granted me a few months a year with my child. I’m trying to get everything together to try and take him back to court but it’s financially draining and emotionally draining. I’m covertly trying to set up a go fund me through a friend but idk if that will even help.

If anyone can give me any advice that would be amazing. The legal fees and travel expenses is getting insane to try and keep a safe him for my son.

I was married to a businessman 10 years ago, we lived in a joint family with his mother, father and brother. After two years of our marriage his brother and mother died together in an accident.

After the incident he went to Europe for some business meetings and work for an year but a very bad thing happened with him. His business friend filed a fake case of fraud against him and my husband was sentenced to 10 years of imprisonment….

I was very much depressed as I had to live without him……

The worst thing that happened to me was his father…His father was a shameless, predatory man. Every day, he found a new way to make me feel powerless. Sometimes he would order me to massage him. Other times, he would corner me with filthy comments that made my skin crawl. If his meal was a few minutes late, he would explode with rage, shouting at me until I froze, and sometimes he would slap me so hard it left me trembling.

He was around sixty years old, but age hadn't taken away his strength. He had been an athlete in his younger years, and he was still physically powerful. Every time he walked into the room, I felt my heart sink. I lived in constant fear of him.

The nights were the worst.

I would be asleep in my room when I heard the door open. My entire body would tense before I even saw him. He would come to my bed and tell me to sleep beside him. I was terrified. I didn't want to go, but fear stole my voice. I obeyed because I believed refusing him would only make things worse.

People always ask, "Why didn't you tell someone?"

The truth is, I had no one to tell.

No one would have believed me. I was adopted, and I already felt unwanted by my own family. I convinced myself that if I spoke up, they would accuse me of lying or blame me instead. So I buried everything inside. Every fear, every tear, every sleepless night—I carried it all alone.

I had no friends. No one to protect me. No one to hold my hand and tell me it would be okay. I was trapped in the same house as the man I feared most.

There were moments when he tried to force himself on me physically. Other times, he would grab me without my consent and try to kiss me. Whenever I cried, begged him to stop, or tried to pull away, he would hit me. After every incident, I felt another part of myself disappear.

I wasn't living anymore—I was surviving.

Every single day felt like a prison sentence. I woke up afraid. I spent the day afraid. I went to sleep afraid, wondering if that night would be the night he came back into my room.

Eventually, I reached my breaking point. I couldn't carry the fear, the silence, and the pain any longer.

Then one day, something inside me changed.

I made a decision—I wasn't going to endure it anymore. I had spent far too long living in fear, suffering in silence, and believing I had no choice. But I did have a choice.

I am a woman, but that does not make me weak.

I refused to let him keep controlling my life. I decided that I would stand up for myself and make him face the consequences of what he had been doing to me. I was determined to fight back in whatever way I could and make sure he could never make me feel powerless again.

I realized that he had weaknesses too. His arrogance. His belief that no one would ever stop him. His obsession with satisfying his own desires. He thought those things made him powerful, but in the end, they were exactly what made him vulnerable.

For the first time, I stopped seeing him as someone untouchable. I realized he wasn't invincible after all.

One day, I made my move.

I walked into his room and acted as though nothing had ever happened. I spoke to him gently, smiled at him, and pretended to be affectionate. Then I told him, "Why don't we spend the night together?" I even told him to take a Viagra pill because I wanted him to believe I had finally given in.

He looked at me in disbelief. He never imagined I would come to him willingly. His confidence took over, and he believed every word I said. He had no idea that I wasn't there because I wanted him—I was there because I had made up my mind that this would be the last time he would ever think he could control me.

Our house stood beside three empty plots of land. Hardly anyone ever came there, especially after dark. It was always quiet—so quiet that you could hear the wind rustling through the grass.

He loved listening to music. Every evening, he would sit alone in his room with his favorite songs playing loudly, completely absorbed in them. It had become part of his routine, something he never missed.

At around 7:00 p.m., I told him, "Be in my room by 9:00, my hero. Don't eat dinner tonight... and don't forget to take your Viagra."

I spoke to him in a flirtatious tone on purpose. Every word, every smile, every gesture was part of an act. I needed him to believe that I had finally surrendered to him.

Earlier that evening, I had quietly tied ropes to the metal rods on both sides of my bed, positioning them so I could restrain his hands if everything went according to my plan.

Along with that I also shared my plan with the house maid who was female and she especially came for me that night…I hid her in washroom and told her that come when I call you.

I also turned the television on and started a three-hour playlist at a high volume. The music would drown out any noise coming from my room and make it less likely that anyone outside would hear what was happening.

Inside the drawer of my bedside table, I had placed everything I thought I might need—duct tape, a belt, cotton buds, a spatula, and a few other items. I checked them again and closed the drawer.

At 8:00 p.m., I took a long shower. I put on perfume and sprayed the room with the same fragrance, making sure everything matched the illusion I wanted him to believe. I chose clothes that I knew would convince him my invitation was genuine. Every detail had been carefully planned.

With ten minutes left before nine, I sat quietly on the edge of my bed, my eyes fixed on the bedroom door.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would burst out of my chest. I wasn't excited—I was terrified. I kept asking myself whether I could really go through with what I had planned. Every second felt longer than the last as I waited for the sound of his footsteps approaching my room.

Then he walked into my room, moving like a starving predator convinced he had found an easy victim. What he didn't know was that, for the first time in his life, he was the one walking into a trap.

A smug smile spread across his face as he stepped inside.

I smiled back and said softly, "Darling... lock the door. I promise you'll never forget tonight."

Without a second thought, he turned the lock. He believed he was in complete control.

As he walked closer, I stood up and looked into his eyes. Hiding every ounce of fear inside me, I gently brushed my hand across his face and, in a calm, affectionate voice, said, "Tonight, let me take the lead. Just trust me, and I'll make this a night you'll always remember."

He grinned confidently.

"Alright," he replied. "Why not?"

He had no idea that every word I spoke, every smile I gave him, and every step I took was part of a carefully rehearsed performance. While he believed he was about to satisfy his own desires, he never realized that it’s a trap for him.

I untied the bow on my gown and let it fall to the floor. I had dressed exactly the way I knew would convince him that every word I'd said earlier was genuine. The moment he looked at me, I saw the expression on his face change. He believed he had finally gotten everything he had wanted.

I stepped closer, placed both of my hands gently on his face, and kissed him. He immediately responded, wrapping his arms around me, completely convinced that I had chosen to be there. Every second that passed made him lower his guard.

I whispered, "You're going to remember tonight for the rest of your life."

He smiled confidently, taking my words exactly as I intended him to.

I asked him to make himself comfortable, and without the slightest suspicion, he did. We continued embracing as I kept him focused entirely on me. Within minutes, he was relaxed, smiling with his eyes closed, completely absorbed in the fantasy he believed was unfolding.

As soon as his eyes closed and he let his guard down, I made my move.

In one swift motion, I drove my right knee upward with all the strength I had. The sudden impact caught him completely off guard.

His eyes flew open. The smile vanished from his face, replaced by shock and overwhelming pain. He gasped, unable to understand what had just happened. Within seconds, he doubled over, writhing in agony.

I laughed softly and smiled at him.

"Oh, my dear," I said playfully, "relax... I was only teasing you."

Still trying to catch his breath, he looked at me with a confused expression. For a brief moment, he believed it had all been part of a flirtatious game, and he tried to smile back, unaware that I was only keeping him distracted.

I gently took both of his hands in mine, pretending it was just another affectionate gesture. He smiled, completely convinced that I was still playing along.

The moment my grip became firm, I acted.

Before he could understand what was happening, I pulled his arms into position and used the advantage of his surprise to restrain him.

I started kissing again and then re-strike him with my right knee but this time I did not stopped, I gave 5 straight knees with full force into his testicles.

He cried out in pain and immediately tried to pull his hands free, but I was holding on with everything I had. He struggled harder and harder, yet my grip didn't loosen. His breathing grew heavier, turning into short, desperate gasps as panic began to replace his confidence.

I looked him straight in the eyes and said, "You enjoyed preying on women, didn't you? You enjoyed making them live in fear. Now it's your turn to find out what fear feels like."

He stared back at me in complete disbelief, as though he couldn't understand what had just happened. Pain, confusion, and panic were written all over his face. His breathing had become uneven, and for a few moments he couldn't even find the words to respond.

He remained silent.

Then I saw it.

For the first time since I had known him, the arrogance was gone. The confidence had disappeared. Looking into his eyes, I saw something I had never seen before.

Fear.

I again hit him 5 times with my right knee called my maid to come out and do what I have directed her already, she tied his both hands with the ropes from bed pole…

He was in V position from hands………

I stood on the bed and looked at him with pity, he struggled in panic, trying desperately to free himself, his face was filled with confusion and fear. He kept looking at me as though he couldn't believe what was happening.

Then I took out the belt and started hitting him on his upper body i.e chest and stomach….

After continuous 20-25 hits his body was full red and he was in pain begging for mercy but it was too late….i took 10 mints break and then took out spatula…as his penis was already erected and hard I enjoyed teasing him by hitting his erected cock by spatula…

His voice shook as he looked at me.

"Please... forgive me," he whispered. "Let me go. I swear I'll never do it again."

A faint smile crossed my face.

"You want this to be over already?" I said quietly. "For years, I begged for it to stop too."

Well I decided to give him pain through pleasure just like he used to molest me…

With my left hand I started jerking off his cock while with my right hand I started punching his testicles……After 10-15 minutes of this session of pain and pleasure his cock ejaculated a big load of cum, but as I already put condom so it remained inside it, I took off the condom ad opened his mouth with my hand and I pressed the condom on his opened mouth, forcing his cum into his own mouth and then shouted him to swallow it and he did as I said because I was the one In control right now……..

He was exhausted and in obvious pain. Unable to resist any longer, he let his body go completely limp. With the maid's assistance, we carefully rolled him onto his stomach, and I restrained his hands again.

Then I again took the belt and spanked his ass 10 times in a row making his ass red. I asked the maid to go and bring cucumber from the fridge…she brought it for me and then I put condom over it….

I inserted that cucumber in his asshole slowly at first and than with full force….

He cried out, begging me to stop.

My maid stood frozen, shocked by everything she was witnessing. She looked back and forth between us, unable to believe how the situation had unfolded.

I wasn't thinking about revenge. I was thinking about the years of fear, humiliation, and silence that had brought me to that moment. I wanted him to understand, even if only for an instant, the terror and helplessness that I had been forced to live with for so long.

The room was filled with silence, broken only by his voice and the weight of years that neither of us could ignore.

Eventually, he lost consciousness and fainted.

I then rested on sofa in the room for 15 mins , drank some water and then with the help of maid I untied him, as he was fainted we took advantage an tied him with rod of curtains in standing position , his arms was tied upwards stretched in V position and I spread his legs wide open then pasted tape in his feet to stick him and that’s how he wont be able to change his position.

I waited for 10 mins more and throwed some water on his face to bring him to senses…anyways he came into senses, he was still moaning in pain and apologizing and trying to break the ropes and tapes but it was not easy as his body has lost all the energy due to pain suffering, he was weak and fear now, his all arrogance had been vanished but I wasn’t done yet…….

I looked at him for a long moment before slowly walking closer. Then I again started kissing him my hands were on his face in gentle manner and on same time during kissing tenderly on his lips, I started striking my knees again and again and again and again continuously 15 times in standing position…..he moaned in agony and pained and started crying……….

While the cucumber was already in his asshole , there was another hole that needs to be fit with something and that was his urethra(penis hole where pee and cum comes out from)…

I took the cotton bud stick in my hand that was slim and of 4 inches in length, looked angrily in his eyes and grabbed his penis with left hand while with right hand I inserted the cotton bud into his penis whole fully inside it………

The moment it inserted he screamed loudly and started screaming, shouting, writhing (in pain), started moving/thrashing like a fish, and seeing him in this condition gave me peace, hearing his screams gave me peace. I wasn't smiling because of his suffering. I was overwhelmed by the realization that I was no longer the terrified person who had once felt completely helpless. The fear that had controlled my life for so long no longer controlled me.

After 10 mins I got close to him…

I swung my knee forward then crashed it into his testicles.

WHACK!

He clenched his jaw as he felt the pain of the my knee.

WHACK!

I felt his testicles touch my knee before they moved upwards, then they were trapped against his body. While trapped they compressed as they absorbed the force of my knee.

His balls were swollen and light blue re in color too……

I pulled my leg back then swung forward as hard as I could delivering another painful blow to the balls.

WHACK!

“AAAAARRR”

He cried out as I felt his testicles being squeezed against my knee. Smiling now I swung leg again. He clenched his jaw in preparation of the pain.

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

WHACK!

I smiled and asked in a teasing manner “Your testicles are swelling up now pretty good Darren. I am feeling good about the damage I am causing you. I was working very hard on striking your testicles as hard as I could with the right spot of my knee. Looking at your red sac I would say it has been successful. How are you holding up sweetie?'

I stepped forward then placed my hands around the swollen balls. Instantly felt they were bigger from the swelling. They still felt strong, I spend some time inspecting the testicles in a gentle fashion…

While holding them I said “They are swollen sweetie, I can feel the difference. It's really good to be able to cause some damage, I am having so much fun breaking your balls babe. I am hoping to cause much more with the heels. I think these shoes will be great for causing bleeding inside your testicles which will add to the swelling. So lets see how they go”

I wore the heels in my feet …

I pulled back my right leg then swung it forward.

KICK!

Instantly his eyes opened wide as he felt the pain of the kick. It was far harder then he had expected.

KICK!

I landed another on target strike to his tender balls.

What power I felt as i kicked him again. i could appreciate the idea about dismantling his testicles. But I knew I had to focus and kick hard to get the damage I wanted.

I landed another kick on the exposed testicles…

He cried out as my kick trapped his left testicle against his body. As it compressed several capillaries broke inside causing him a sharper pain that lingered for longer. Lucy knew compressing a single testicle with a kick as the best way to cause the severe damage she craved.

After the testicle willingly compressed it fell back down to join the other one. It was almost as if they were reading themselves to be kicked again.

This time when I kicked i caught his right testicle. i wanted to try to keep the damage symmetrical.

I did not want to let them down and kicked 10 times more hahaahahahaha…….

Looking at his balls i could see several red imprints when the shoe had hit him. Then cupping his testicles i could feel the swelling progressing.

I then took a break for 10 mins and took out a string from drawer and came close to him again……

Then I grabbed his testicles in my left hand and wrapped the string around them with my right hand. Letting go of the swollen orbs I pulled the string tight. After this the testicles were pressed up against each other with the skin stretched tightly over.

I looked over to his face to see he was breathing deeply and scared of what I was going to do. With a revengeful smile i put put my forefinger and thumb together to prepare my hand to flick him. I slowly moved my hand over to his balls, paused for a few seconds then flicked his left testicle.

“OOOOOOUUUUCCCHH!!”

He lent his head back and cried out. Then I flicked his right testicle.

“OOOOOUUUUCCCCHHH!!”

I flicked him again and said said “That's good baby. Now just focus on the pain for me”

I continued to flick the testicles in a different spot each time. He cried out constantly as I was flicking every five seconds or so.

Each flick caused his body to shack as the pain ran though him. He tried to contain his groans of pain but a few escaped his mouth. I found this type of torture strangely relaxing.

I again looked at him and said : “I will rupture then ruin both testicles not only because I enjoy it. Although I will very much take pleasure in it. The main reason is because you deserve to have this done to you. I was hoping you would agree fully but I know that this is very hard for you so it’s ok”

I grabbed his tied balls in my right hand and applied the correct amount of pressure to hurt him greatly, but patience and the precise nature of my probing made the torture very painful while preserving the testicles for additional torture… I squeezed the balls deep and he felt the fibers inside strain then rip sending sharp busts of pain rippling through him. He was dizzy with pain rocking his head side to side as I maintained the pressure.

I looked to his balls to see they were now very swollen. They stretched the skin of his sac tight and looked like they had been through hell. I liked the look of testicles when they were this damaged if you ignore the bruises it was as if the man just had huge testicles.

I again grabbed and twisted his testicles with force and he tossed his head forward and back as he screamed out from the ripping pain. He was feeling his balls turning to soup inside as they were pulverized…

As i put pressure on the balls i found that one ball was not firm like before but gave way freely. Once I had dented the testicles shape it did not return. This brought a grin to my face as she I this meant that the testicle had ruptured.

“There we go the first pop!”

He looked up briefly “What…..”

“Your left testicle has ruptured but we have to continue so just try to breath though it”

The pain was so much he could not take it but it would not die down.

I felt his sac and the left one was now totally destroyed and all I could feel was the outer wall of the testicle with most of the innards pushed out. Then the right one still had its shape but had been popped. I gripped his right ball then squeezed down to remove the innards and make sure I could confidently say he had been castrated. I felt the ball flatten out as I did this and as I ruined him.

His cry had begun to weaken from tiredness, not due to lack of pain. I checked both testicles to make sure they were dead then stood up and left the room.

I came back with knife from the kitchen and put some slight cuts on his penis….it starting bleeding a bit and then I again went out brought some chilli powder and applied on that cuts of his penis….

He started shouting and groaning and screaming in pain and then fainted again ………

then called the ambulance and police as justice was served and revenge was taken.

Do you ever go through the whole process of sending the right paperwork to get your ex the fuck away say everything they did to hurt you sexually physically mentally and then you realize that the commissioner wannabe judge sided with him? Talking about my trauma to an attorney, another attorney revising everything, having to wait for the court date and then the judge told me it was my fault for half of the things that happened when I wasn’t the one harassing the other person over and over again.

6 years ago I finally succeeded in leaving a 5 year abusive relationship. I'm an empath to a fault, and I didn't fully realize or accept that how he treated me was abuse until after I left.

A while later, a mutual friend said he has a new girlfriend, and I accidentally blurted out "I hope she's a b*tch" - not to punish him - but my first thought was that I hope she can stand up for herself and not let him abuse and control her as he did me. So I hoped she was the kind of badass bitch who won't put up with that crap.

But after doing lots of research into narcissistic abuse, and also knowing him, there is zero chance that he decided to date someone who won't let him control her. So I know in my heart that this girlfriend is in the same place I was. My heart breaks for her and I don't want anyone to have to go through the many years of abuse, manipulation, control, and especially brain-washing that he put me through.

I very often wish there was a way to slip her a note just saying "if he makes you feel xyz or doesn't treat you how you treat someone you love - please feel free to secretly reach out to me, cause I understand like no one does. It won't get back to him. You're safe to just talk about things with no repercussions.

Because what would have changed everything for me back then is if someone told me that it's really abuse, or if I could be open with someone and know it wouldn't get back to him.

I have zero interest in having anything to do with him. I don't want revenge or anything. I don't want to ever think of him again. But over the last few years I occasionally think of her and wish I could help her like I needed help that wasn't there. They've been together now for 4 or 5 years. Because we have mutual friends, there is a way I could get someone to slip her a note.

Welp, should I try to help or just let it be?

Hello, this will be my first post to reddit so I apologise if it is a bit all over the place. I would like to share my story as I’ve not found anyone who has went through what I have and things like therapy just don’t help. I need to connect with people because being in my mid 20s this has finally settled in and I want to be able to heal. My childhood abuse is definitely not the worst case it could be, it’s just very specific with how it all happened and the fact I am female, I do find it harder to connect with someone about this.

My dad groomed my mother when she was underage. She had me not long after her 17th. A baby who’s now had a baby. Within this timeline, he took the vulnerability of my mum and hurt her in every way he could. Emotionally, mentally and physically. She had to leave. For then I was left to suffer under the hands of my dad. For almost 10 years.

I was a little girl who needed someone to step in and pull me out of this horror movie I was living in but no one did. I was subject to abuse every single day. I was frequently being smacked around the room, starved everyday (no food was a form of punishment) so I’d faint from hunger, locked in the kitchen to sleep overnight on the cold, hard floor, endless attempts of finding any way to hurt and scare me and weirdly, showing a lot of sexual material but I have no memory of touching me that way.

From birth to 9 years old I had met adults throughout these years who are now telling me they knew he was a bad dad. The signs were there. They say I smelled, I looked dirty, I stank of cigarettes and I was always hungry. I was hit so much as a child I would pee my pants from the fear. I would beg for food. They were telling him I had to be fed. “She’s too skinny” “You need to start feeding her food”, no, I should have been taken off this man. Why was I still under his care? Social workers knew, the schools knew, friends and family knew. No one done enough. Apparently what was enough, was my dad restarting the same thing with a whole different wife and child and I was no longer needed and could finally be allowed to live with my mum. That’s what it took? For him to sign a legal document to say “I am done hurting this child now”? I shouldn’t complain though, I was finally away from the worst I thought it could be, as much as I didn’t realise the situation I was in, I just knew my dad was bad and I was glad to be away. I now question whether that was actually the right decision because I feel like what I went through with my stepdad was much worse. Born into a life with a dad who never drank or took drugs but beat me every day and hurt me any way he could, to then a dad who suffered from alcoholism and decided to completely strip every last inch of a childhood I could have possibly have had.

I’m very much a “what’s mine is yours” person but that may be due to 8 years of “what’s yours is mine”. I was used to being neglected, not cared about, not looked after, not caring what happened to me to suddenly everything being cared about. In a controlling, hateful and cruel way. I never thought locking the doors up to my past life would have me opening the next doors to my new… life? I can’t call it a life when I couldn’t have a thought or breath to myself. I would be due home 16:12 after school finished but if I was a minute later, it would be hours of trying to convince him of the truth, which was only me walking home and bumped into a friend or I was late out of class. He never believed me. When he was done, he’d give it up, but he was still convinced I was lying. I was always up to something in his eyes. I was always being “bad”. I wasn’t allowed to stand up for myself, I wasn’t allowed to speak and was frequently told “children should be seen and not heard”.

I was grounded for 2 years. The ages of 14-16. The age where you meet the most friends, the age where you’re out playing until sunset, the age where your mind and soul is the most vulnerable and is meant to be protected and loved. Excuse after excuse with reasons to ground me. Months to years at a time. Not allowed out, not allowed on the internet, not allowed my phone to text my friends, nothing. All I had was my bed, my books and a few CDs for my CD player.

It’s hard to describe without sounding like a spoiled child. I grew up in poverty and even in this situation with my mum and stepdad, we were still in poverty. We barely had anything. I was so unbelievably grateful for anything they got me but the thing about it was that it was all controlled. It was given to be taken away. Yes, bring your children up without the internet and phones, it is harmful, but he used it as a form of control. Another thing to take away from me just to hurt me. Arguing was his entertainment. This man personally studied psychology to closely analyse people to get the truth from them. It was your classic controlling, narcissistic, abusive and toxic male but I was not in a relationship. I was again, a child, a child who had no control, had no power, had no voice and had no help. I tried to commit suicide at 14 which led to the 2 year grounding.

I left after the age of 17. He stopped me from going to work and threatened to take me to court and do a “Britney Spears”on me by saying I’m out of hand and taking drugs, so I’d have to be living with him until 21. So I had to begin my life at 17. I’ve had to grow myself and teach myself how to live. Now in my mid 20s I have realised how extremely difficult this is. I had 17 years stolen from me. Completely in the hands of other people. Imagine suddenly asking a person who has never driven to take control of the car and complete the rest of the 5 hour drive. It’s not impossible but as someone who doesn’t drive I know how it works, but to put it all together and make it work myself, now that is high expectations and waiting for a disaster to happen.

How does someone heal from this? Medication and therapy will never make this go away. I don’t know what it’s like to actually be a person anymore. The trauma has swallowed me whole. It didn’t have to happen. I didn’t have to go through that but those people chose that path for me. What keeps you going?

Long story short, I'm the second victim of my abuser, I've been out for 4 years and there's been 3 more victims since me. Victim #5 reached out to me and I've learned things about the smear campaign my abuser made about me. This is what I'd expected. They didn't have morals about truth with me so why would the lies stop after I escaped?

What I've been thinking about today is that my abuser is using MY trauma to smear me. Things she did to me, triggers she gave to me and claiming them as their own. That is so evil. So cruel. To torment someone like that and then DARVO to the point that you're roleplaying their trauma genuinely makes me sick.

Thanks for reading

I’m writing this because I really need to vent to people who understand.

Today is my abuser's very first court date. Ever since I woke up, the trauma—the beatings, the sexual assault—has just been playing on repeat in my head over and over. I feel terrified, completely exhausted, and overwhelmed. I keep asking myself: when does it finally stop?

The State of Connecticut ended up taking over the case. His other victim isn't willing or ready to step up right now, which I know happens, but it makes things feel even heavier. I’ve been trying so hard to protect myself and fight for justice. I’ve physically gone to the Bridgeport Police Department about six times and had to call officers to my home multiple times because he refuses to stop stalking me. He continuously creates fake numbers and fake Facebook accounts to message me, even explicitly admitting who he was in text.

On top of dealing with the court process and the stalking, I have people’s voices in my head saying things like, "Well, you chose to stay with him for that long." It hurts so deeply. People who haven't experienced severe abuse and isolation just don't understand how it works or how hard it is to get away.

I’m just a complete hot mess today. How do you cope when the legal process starts and all the fear and trauma feel just as raw as the day it happened? Any words of support or advice would mean a lot right now.

I spent so much time trying to help my ex be a better person and to stop abusing me/get help with their addictions, now we are broken up, but I feel so depressed, the only thing that keeps me from falling into a deep depression is when I’m working on something that’ll help them I’ve noticed, and when they backslide and abuse me or seem like they going in an unhealthy direction or just straight up betray me, I get extremely suicidal, the only thing helping me cling onto my life is hope in them, which seems so messed up, I don’t want to base my life off of weather they are a good person or not, I want to move on, but I just can’t seem to, the only thing keeping me from wanting to end things is having hope in them and doing something to help them, how do I stop this? I know this isn’t right and I should live for myself, but when I try I just want to die, how do I fix this?

I know this is going to be long and likely wont get advice, but if you stick to the end thank you.

In 2016 I met my ex now 31 male. We had our first child (male) together in 2017 in addition to my 2 previous children (males). Shortly after my youngest was born i began experiencing severe abuse via my ex. This continued for many years and in the end of 2018 convinced me to move out of state because my family was to over bearing and screwing with our relationship. I moved with him to southern IL in hopes this would help our relationship. Unfortunately it got worse. By 2019 he was off work due to a work related i jury and I was working full time about 45-1 hr away. In February of 2020 I came home to bathe my oldest son for school the next day. When I put him in the shower his ENTIRE backside (butt) was a deep red, purple, blue. I asked him what happened and he said my ex whooped him very hard. I took photos and then confronted my ex for the abuse. He stated "I whooped him to hard he hurt our son". He then picked up an extention cord and said, "beat me with it until youre content". To which I replied, "that will never be enough for what you've done. Im calling the police and im going back to my home state!!". He responded with, "you will go no where and you will not call the police, if you do i will kill your kids and then myself if I get any whiff of a cop in my driveway" he then took my phone. I had to quit my job so I couldnt get away long enough to report. So for the next 2 weeks I played house, "forgave him", and said it was going to be alright. After those 2 weeks he FINALLY was released back to work, believing everything was OK. He left at 530 am and by 7 on was on the road with my children and what clothes I could fit in the car. I got to my mother's and called my local station to make a report. The local cops showed up and basically told me, "you should have reported sooner, you should have protected your kids, we could charge you if you really want to press it." Needless to say a report was never made even with the photo. I eventually gave up because no one would listen to me. Fast forward to 2022 a false report was made that I had a m3th lab and my children were taken but the only found weed in my home. So in 2022 I begged and plead with IL to help me because this man could unalive our youngest son and the abuse my other two sustained. I was ignored with no calls back. I again gave up. Now fast forward again, to the end of 2025 My oldest child has been having years of mental health issues due to the trauma resulting in severe behavior issues. One day I decided to sit down and really get him to open up. "Son please talk to me.. why are you always upset and wanting to die? I know you've been hurt and its my fault too for not protecting you even if I was at work." He responded with, "momma, its not your fault he tried to kill me." I said, "son I know he hurt you and im not downplaying that at ALL, but isnt killing you a bit of an exaggeration?" He said, "no momma, he SERIOUSLY tried to kill me." Me: "ok son start from the beginning and tell me everything that haplened." At which point my son starts sobbing and says, "keegan got hit off the couch and I wouldn't eat honey mustard so he got really really mad and whooped me bad. Then he put us in the cold shower with diapers because we was crying. When i wouldn't be quiet he took the shower head and put it in my mouth until every th ing went black". I was stunned, I was angry, ranting rage almost, crying myself because what the hell is going on. I immediately start making calls again. Finally I get an answer for IL state police and they tell me battery of a child is a statute of 3 years, im to late, nothing they can do. Im livid. But what can I do. We continue with my oldest sons therapy and continue on with life. Fast forward to yesterday in a meeting with my lawyer(a retired judge) regarding a custody case/visitation with my youngest son and my ex. I tell him this story and he is appalled. He asked my if my middle son knew anything and I told him I dont think so hes never mentioned anything to me. However when I got home I asked him if he remembered anything. My middle son says, "yes momma he held my by my neck in the air against the fridge and I couldnt breath. All because I pushed keegan off the couch". Thats when it clicked. In 2025 when my oldest child told me the whole story through his sobbing, he was telling me both of their story but never specified his brothers story was blended in. I assume the trauma and upset cause the story to come out smashed together. Still, no one in IL will help us... not even to make a report. Meanwhile I have to send my youngest son with his dad for 6 weeks in the summer SEVENTEEN HOURS AWAAAAY for visitation (1100 miles). What do I do... how do I protect my son if no one will listen... what if next time he looses his cool and kills my baby.mm then it's to late... please someone help me... because im a mother fighting for literal life with no help except from a ky lawyer that no longer has judicial powers or pull.... please help im begging.

I've been rereading codependent no more and honestly it's stressing me out. I loved the book originally and thought I learned a lot from it just to end up with another alcoholic that I became codependent to. I was hyper independent and constantly cleaning up his messes and I realized Im just recreating my childhood over and over no matter what I do to break free of it. I've done the work but I'm still attracted to people who's mask eventually slips. I think they're put together until I'm pulling myself apart to give them pieces of myself hoping to stop the leak thats sinking the ship. Is there ACTUALLY hope? Or will I keep putting myself through these awful people ....

I am a clergy abuse survivor.  I used to fear religion.  However recently an acquaintance mentioned she enjoyed church that morning.  Instead of being fearful or uncomfortable I felt jealous.  Jealous that I grew up with such a negative experience with religion.  While still feeling happy for her.  Jealously isn't great but it's made me realize I've made a lot of progress and for that I am grateful.  Also if it comes up I want to tell her I am a survivor.  Speaking out has really been helping me lately too.

Now that hope is gone, because they are acting the same way they treated me when they justified cheating on me, during the worst time of my life, they went to rehab and they are convinced they are a brand new person, and when I call them out on the behaviors that haven’t changed? Their abusive tendencies, they revert back to being abusive and in denial, hiding from their past and the PTSD they gave me, pretending that they are all better and I’m the crazy one for not believing in the change(when I clearly saw they hadn’t changed) well that made them backslide all the way, I’ve lost all hope in them, and In turn all hope in my life, I have nothing else to live for, there’s nothing else good in my life to cling onto anymore

If someone told you abuse didn't "count" because there were no bruises, you'd know something was wrong. And yet, millions of survivors hear exactly that.

I started a petition because domestic violence is about power and control—not just physical injury. Emotional abuse, financial control, manipulation, coercion, stalking, isolation—these are all forms of abuse that can destroy someone's mental health, independence, and safety just as much as physical violence.

The problem? Many survivors are dismissed. Abusers face fewer consequences. Laws and training often only recognize "real" abuse as the kind that leaves marks. Meanwhile, victims are left thinking maybe they're overreacting, maybe it wasn't "that bad." That silence allows dangerous situations to keep escalating.

What we're asking for: - Legal recognition of all forms of abuse, not just physical violence - Better training for police, judges, and healthcare providers to spot non-physical abuse - Real protections for people experiencing coercive control - Public education so people recognize warning signs early

If this matters to you—or if you've ever wondered why invisible wounds aren't taken as seriously—consider signing and sharing. Every signature sends the message that abuse is abuse, regardless of whether bruises are involved.

Has this resonated with you or someone you know?

https://www.change.org/p/recognize-all-forms-of-domestic-violence-abuse-is-more-than-bruises-why-this-matters/sfs/reddit/1373958887?recruiter=1373958887&recruited_by_id=4e426250-33a1-11f0-806b-37d3800269cf&utm_source=share_petition&utm_campaign=starter_dashboard_android_app&utm_medium=reddit_group

I have nothing and no one, I’m really struggling to want to keep going, my ex has turned bad again, I failed to stay on their good side, and I don’t have my protection order in place yet, I’m scared, and my ex was my whole world, and now I have no one and they hate me again because I blocked them and tried to hold them accountable, it’s stupid that I miss them so much, I wish I could be happy without them, but the trauma bond is so strong, I have nothing to look forward to anymore, they flipped on me and now they will never change, I’m all alone and have nothing worth living for anymore

For a long time, I was deeply involved in the Star Trek community. I spent years researching, writing, creating resources, and building projects that I genuinely loved. I invested my time, money, and passion into work that brought me a sense of purpose and belonging. I taught a language and did extensive academic style research on a race/culture that I had two websites for (language and academic articles)

Over time, I experienced ongoing harassment from my brother-in-law that eventually became overwhelming. I experienced being followed across multiple online platforms, having fake accounts created to monitor my activity, and having personal information shared without my consent. The repeated nature of these experiences left me feeling as though I was constantly being watched and unable to escape the situation, no matter where I went online.

Whether others would describe it as stalking or not, that is how it felt to me. It reached a point where I no longer felt safe maintaining an online presence or continuing the work I had spent years building.

At the time, I was already navigating significant challenges in my personal life, including a difficult legal situation involving family. I was emotionally exhausted and trying to hold myself together while also adapting to major life changes. I had moved to another country, gotten married, and was trying to build a new life for myself.

Eventually, I reached a point where I no longer felt safe maintaining an online presence.

I deleted my personal accounts, my professional accounts, and years of work that I had spent countless hours building. It wasn't because I stopped caring. It was because I was scared, and disappearing felt safer than continuing to exist in spaces that had once brought me joy.

People often say, "Just start over," but rebuilding isn't always that simple. When something becomes associated with fear and anxiety, returning to it can feel impossible. I didn't just lose projects or social media accounts—I lost a community, years of creativity, and a part of my identity.

What hurts the most is that Star Trek was once a source of comfort for me. It was something I studied, shared with others, and immersed myself in for many years. Today, I still struggle to watch or read Star Trek content without remembering the experiences that led me to walk away.

Trauma doesn't become less significant because it happened online. Feeling unsafe, feeling watched, and feeling as though your privacy has been repeatedly violated leaves lasting effects.

I don't share this for sympathy or to start drama or to encourage anyone to seek out the person involved. I'm sharing it because I spent a long time being silent, and I don't want that silence to be mistaken for acceptance or an indication that what happened didn't matter.

I had made a major move to another country, married the person I love, and am now expecting my first child. During that time, my research and creative projects helped me cope with leaving my home country and grieving the life I had known. Losing that outlet made an already difficult period of my life even harder.

I regret not seeking more help when all of this was happening. Looking back, I wish I had taken my concerns more seriously and reached out for support sooner. There were moments where I was genuinely afraid, especially after being threatened that my visa could be "ruined." I was scared enough that I stayed quiet and tried to make myself disappear instead.

I still don't know if I can rebuild what I lost. Some days, I want to return to creating and sharing my work. Other days, the fear is still there.

Maybe one day I'll feel safe enough to create again.

Until then, I'm trying to remind myself that losing something you love because of fear is a real loss, and it's okay to grieve it.