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In honor of Black History Month I will post a song by a black artist every day, except yesterday because I forgot and was busy.

First up

Locked Away, Adam Levine

If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I showed you my flaws
If I couldn’t be strong
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
Right about now
If a judge for-life me, would you stay by my side?
Or is you gonna say goodbye?
Can you tell me right now?
If I couldn’t buy you the fancy things in life
Shawty, would it be alright?
Come and show me that you’re down (uh-huh)
Now tell me, would you really ride for me? (Would you really ride for me?)
Baby, tell me, would you die for me? (Tell me, would you die for me?)
Would you spend your whole life with me? (Wassup?)
Would you be there to always hold me down? (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Tell me, would you really cry for me? (Would you really cry for me?)
Baby, don’t lie to me (baby, don’t lie to me)
If I didn’t have anything (Wassup?)
I wanna know, would you stick around?
If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I showed you my flaws
If I couldn’t be strong
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
Skiddly dong, dong, dong, dang
All I want is somebody real who don’t need much
A gyal I know that I can trust
To be here when money low (low, low, low, low)
If I did not have nothing else to give but love
Would that even be enough? (Tell me, tell me, tell me)
Gyal, me need fi know (uh-huh)
Now tell me, would you really ride for me? (Would you really ride for me?)
Baby, tell me, would you die for me? (Tell me, would you die for me?)
Would you spend your whole life with me? (Wassup?)
Would you be there to always hold me down? (uh-huh)
Tell me, would you really cry for me? (Would you really cry for me?)
Baby, don’t lie to me (baby, don’t lie to me)
If I didn’t have anything (Wassup?)
I wanna know, would you stick around?
If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I showed you my flaws
If I couldn’t be strong
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
Tell me, tell me, would you want me? (Want me)
Tell me, tell me, would you call me? (Call me)
If you knew I wasn’t ballin’
‘Cause I need a gyal who’s always by my side
Tell me, tell me, do you need me? (Need me?)
Tell me, tell me, do you love me, yeah?
Or is you just tryna play me?
‘Cause I need a gyal to hold me down for life
If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I showed you my flaws
If I couldn’t be strong
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I got locked away
And we lost it all today
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
If I showed you my flaws
And if I couldn’t be strong
Tell me, honestly
Would you still love me the same?
Would you still love me the same?

New Confession

Related Confessions

Living with aunt…..i found out why special surprise the next evening. That morning she again welcomed me to the shower and allowed me to touch myself. But when i got close to finishing she inatructed me to stop and to dry off and get out of the shower. Very frustrating and i pouted some and pleaded, and she was very angry. I ended up right back where i had been a couple of days ago, getting the hairbrush on my cheeks and thighs for a protracted time. She did not use the belt but after i was sobbing and pleading again she snapped at me, that this was why i needed to be cured of my addiction, i whined the minute i did not get to enjoy my body. While i did not get the belt, after reducing me to sobbing and begging, she turned the brush around and i got several agonizing minutes of the coarse bristles on my already burning backside. I was trembling and hurting and was nearly dragged back to the shower, ordered to stand there letting cold water spray on my aching backside and then facing it until my g e nit als were shrunken to near invisibility. I was a wrecked blubbering pathetic mess, and as she held me afterwards she again stressed that my behavior is what made me weak and she wanted to be proud of me for good behavior. She said she was proud of me for accepting her direcrion and punishment but she wanted me to be well behaved and not self destructive to begin with. She said these things in a loving way but there was no mistaking her when she said that punishments could be far worse than they had been. That she did not want me to force her to be that harsh but that it was up to me whether it happened.

At bedtime that day she instructed me to lay on my stomach, and she spanked me by hand, stinging and making me tear up but nothing like the hairbrush. As i lay there shivering and sniffling, she left and came back with wet towels to lay on my cheeks and backs of thighs to ease the pain. Once i was calmed down, she had me turn to spoon me and her hands gently stroked my skin. Dangerously close to my groin and arousing me but she said that just as punishment could get worse, the pleasure could get better if i behaved. So i vowed to myself to try harder to behave, because while i knew she loved me, i was also now frightened of her.

The next morning began a new morning ritual. She showered with me and let me play with myself but to reinforce her rule over me, every shower began with a standing light spanking by her hand, then bathing and allowing me to self pleasure, and then another standing shower spanking, this time with her hairbrush. As each day after day started this way, mas tu rba tion started becoming something that was associates with her control and the discipline, and my urges were dropping quickly. I began to see the morning showers as a duty or exercise in self discipline rather than a pleasure.

This was also when i had to make a daily report phone call to my mother by my aunt,’s direction, reporting whether i had disobeyed and confirming i was being spanked proactively. My mother was skeptical at first so thwt call i had to stay on the phone with my mother so she coulr hear the soanking and my crying as i was bent bare bottomed over the back or a living room char as i knelt on it.

The next door sisters/landlords, my aunt’s lifelong lovers, also began to drop in regularly and my aunt required me to report to them as well. My aunt started a calendar to track how often i had urges or waa allowed to and able to successfully play with myself.

To be continued.