For 25 years I was my father's sex toy. From age 7 he used me sexually. Making me give him head. He took my virginity when I was 9, he demand sex several times a day. When my periods started my ass was fucked. He forced me do every disgusting sex act you can think of. Using my pussy, mouth and ass for what ever got him off. He passed me around to other men, made me fuck dogs and made me do porn to earn money turn me in to a BDSM slave. The worst part is he trained my body to always cum while doing these fucking things. It got to the point that no matter how he used me I began having squirting orgasms. One time in a mall I was 15 and looked at another boy, he pulled me aside and slapped hard several times and I came soaking my mini skirt. He never let me wear panties so my skirt was completely wet, then he made me walk to parking lot . I was so humiliated stand there waiting for the elevator I came again as he had trained me to be a bottom how craved humiliation. Last winter he died, and I was free. But at 33 I'm completely fuck up. I never went to high school or had friends. And have no family. I've tried sex with a dozen men since he died, but I can't cum or get wet. The bastard has made it impossible to cum without him. I hate him for making me this way. But I hate myself even more for wanting his touch again, for wanting to be abused by him for being a worthless slave in love with her master. Why did you have to die Daddy, I miss you so much.

Family, For better For worse My Family means the world to me. I'd probably do anything for them. When my parents decided to migrate to US, my family was very happy and excited. I was only 9 years old back then. My parents always had the mentality, that US is better than any other country. But when we got there, we were in constant need of money. My father who had a hard time keeping a job as a aircraft mechanic would also argue and beat my mother almost every night.My mother would lock us in a room ,and my brothers and I were left listening to her horrifying screams and crashing sounds through the thin cheap apartment walls, as he pounded his fist onto her flesh ....thump...thump...thump. I experienced much discrimination in school,.... or wherever, and my brothers also felt it too. The pressure also got to my oldest brother... so he liked to molest, and eventually rape,me whenever no ones around. It started shortly after we arrived in US, meaning I was still 9 years of age. I remember not understanding the situation. As I grew older, I constantly felt disgusted of my self. But I could never push him away...Who else feed me when my mother was to tired to even bother with me...Or my father who only sits on his obnoxious ass all day drinking and smoking his life away?? Who else would help me when I don't understand something? Who else would hug me and say it was all going to be alright? So to YOU...Oh reader, I confess that I always let my brother do as he wishes with me even today... No matter how disgusting I am...As he nonchalantly f** and c* in me like a dog in heat, careless of what I feel inside... , I will always smile and tell him I love him. One day, 12-year old me, confessed what was happening within my household, it was to much, I could not take it anymore.I was so young so delicate... My Middle School's Psychiatrist promised me that it was all going to be confidential, That she was only doing this to help me feel better. But I was wrong, the next day, the police came to my front door, looking for my father. I was away during this time, and so was my father. My brother told us that they would return tomorrow. Once my mother heard of the news, She sends my father away. My father, cursed me as he left my life for 4 years. Due to US's recessive state, eventually my family and I returned to our home country. And the funny thing is...My family and I still act the same... I'm now 20 years of age. Still acting like that delicate little girl that was only trying to reach for help. I can't believe that I confessed. So If you reach this far, I thank you from the very bottom of my heart.For I have asked for none-more but for someone to hear my story, to find relief. Thank you...

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