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The girl had just turned 14 years old. Like barely by a week. The sub was 31 or 32 and had gotten divorced and fired after a DWI. His ex wife had enough of his b******* so she left him. Then he got fired and had his license suspended for a year

The guy sold his house and kept his half of the money. He used his insurance money from his totaled car to pay cash for a used POS and keep a few thousand. His car insurance carrier dropped him, and when he was fired the week after his DWI – the week after his wife left him – he lost his health insurance too

He almost killed himself in spring 2011. He tried quitting drinking but it didn’t work. He tried quitting smoking cigarettes but it didn’t work. He had hidden his smoking addiction from his ex wife, but now it was coming out and taking over. He always thought about cigarettes now. About how badly he needed them. He couldn’t get away from his obsessive thoughts.

He tried going to the gym. Or being proactive in something. He tried moving back in with his mother for a while but couldn’t deal with her. He tried living with a friend, but that didn’t work either.

Eventually within six weeks he knew he had to leave. he sold most Of what stuff he could gather. Several guns, and rifles, made about $3,500 from theguns and everything else. He kept one revolver for himself, and a backpack with camping gear, survival knive, hiking clothes, jacket, boots etc.

There wasn’t much else left. He closed his Facebook and social media accounts, canceled them. Cancelled his phone plan – it had been on his ex wife’s cell plan since college – he wiped the iphones memory and sold it for cash

For the first time since high school he had no cell phone in his pocket. He had no phone at all. No computer either. The laptop had belonged to the company so he had to give it back the day he was fired. His ex wife kept the computer he’d bother herthe year before for Christmas. He had no computer. No internet. No phone. No tv. He let her kept the plasma tv too since he obviously had no place for it. He had no place for anything really.

He had kept several boxes of old books, moved them to his father’s garage for storage. he had one suitcase and two other gym bags packed with regular street clothes and toiletries and so forth he kept there too, to pick up sometime later whenever he was ready to move On.

But first he needed to get a way into the Wild for a while

May of 2011 was time to go away for a while. He had hired a lawyer and was on probation. So he went camping. Would check in with hisnparole Officer. That summer of 2011 was long and hot.

Scorching hot.

Burning in Texas. He rode through east Texas in a car a friend sold him and found fields and trees burned to ashes.

The fires took everything the alcohol had not already.

In September his probation was lifted. He was free to leave the state. He had even

He had heard of a possible job opening in town – but he had to leave. The town was full of ghosts. His ex wife, her family, his old company, his own family, all disgraced by him

So the day his parole was lifted, he went to get his temporary drivers license, and also reported into the licensing board lawyer. The lawyer told him to submit a request for a two years voluntary suspension and then he could reapply; so he sent in the paperwork like the lawyer told him.

Later that afternoon in September, he swung by his father’s garage and picked up his clothes and a few books, put it in the trunk of the old used car with his camping gear and he headed out

Heading north

He made touch with an old friend in Chicago

The. He headed on up to Michigan where he lied about his background and got a job as a substitute teacher at a rough urban high school in Detroit

He found a small one bedroom garage apartment to rent. Flat $300 a month, with water and power.

He loved it. It was at the end of a street in a rundown neighborhood of 40s wooden houses falling into disrepair with mostly empty houses

There was nobody in the house that the garage apartment was located behind, and he yard was overgrown with thick bushes.

You couldn’t see into the garage from the street. There wasn’t an inhabited house for two blocks.

It was dark and quiet.

That’s where he took the young 14 year old girl

She had wanted to run away

She had talked to her teacher after class one day and he offered to tutor her privately

That’s how she ended up there

They left on a Friday afternoon around Christmas time not long after school had gotten out

I can’t believe it’s been 7 years now

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I lost my virginity to my mother, but it was not like it was loving or e***** or passionate. It was not a loving thing. I was a late bloomer and knew nothing about my own body or s e x. It was just her and me. I was 14 and had recently experienced my first w********. I was confused by all that but afraid to ask her. She found it on the sheets and waa disgusted and derogatory about it. She accused me of whatever m a s tur bation was (i did not know) and got otk bare bottol spanked. I was made to wear diapers to bed so that i did not mess the sheets. This was in cloth diaper days, so guess what, as soft as they were i accidentally discovered how it felt to sleep on my stomach and grind my hips against the mattress. An important point is that my g e n i t a ls had not really developed as far as growing larger, so a cloth diaper easily contained me when aroused. She just kept getting angry and spanking me. Ended up forced to sleep in her bed because she was tired of washing diapers and did not trust me not to abuse ot degrade myself. So over time i began to attach to the brief glimpses of her dressing or u*********. What little i saw was fascinating. I could not risk grinding to get off sleeping in her bed. And the spankings were rough. Rarely bruised but extended and very painful, i usually ended up in tears. One day i was walking down the hall to the bathroom and passed her (“our”) bedroom door, it was half closed. I saw her standing in front of a full length mirror, only in panyhose, her back was to me at an angle but i saw her reflected in the mirror. Bare breasted modest breasts, very large prominent n******, broad hips, classically shaped bottom. I stood there frozen and gawking as her hand was fondling her breasts and one of her hands slid down into her pantyhose and was moving. I felt something i could not describe and instinct had me opening my pants and touching myself. Not stroking just fondling myself. No surprise she notices me and gets angry, storms over to me, snatches me into her room, angtily calling me dirty filthy etc. Tells me it was not fair that she had to go without because of being a single mother and she wasnt going to go without any more because of me. Said i was hopeless and an abomination and she was sick and tired of having to watch over me when i would nevrr change. Told me to stand there and watch like a dirty sicko if i wanted to watch so bad and could not control myself. So i stood there afraid to touch myself with her right there in front of me and i watched confused as my mother resumed pleasing her body as if i were not there. I went back and forth between directly watching her and watching her reflection. She only noticed me again when she had caught her breath and saw i was fondling myself still, and she mocked me and called me pathetic for being whatever a dirty little j******* was and not being able to even do that right. She screamed at me to get out and i ran crying. She only ever mentioned it by telling me i was going back to my bed and still sleeping in diapers. I ground myself to climax over and over night after night and she ended up making me do all my laundry. Things changed after that. She fed and clothed me but i only existed after that. She pretended i did not exist and began no longer caring about closing doors or what she wore or did not wear. Told me i was going to be dirty and look so why should she not get to act as she wished and hidjng herself as a woman from my disgusting peeping. Over time it was not uncommon for me to walk by her open bedroom door and see her openly mas tur bating in many ways. Yes i always watched. Yes i always fondled myself. But i had not actually mas tur bated to o r g a sm yet. That came one day when i stood watching an extended period of her self pleasure as i was still fondling myself watching from her bedroom door. She got angry and called me pathetic that i couldnt even be good at abusing my body like a creep. She got a bath towel and laid it on the floor and made me stand on it and instructed me to take my p e n i s between my thumb and finger and directed me how to pleasure myself with my own hand. It was earth shattering as i had that o r g a sm and barely kept my feet. All she said was to make sure the towel was in the laundry. After that it was unspoken. If i saw her mastur bating, i got a towel to stand on when i watched. She would sometimee be naked or nearly so in the house and i would get a towel and do my thing and she paid veru little attention to me. It evolved to me even standing right by her bed and even kneeling on her bed watching closer. One day i forgot to get a towel and was kneeling beside her and came so fast it was on the sheets and across her stomach. She was very angry and i had to get a towel and clean her then change and wash her sheets too. We went through a period where i was pleasuring myself so much that i would watch but did not finish myself and would go to my room to finish. One day she found me touching myself and seemed genuinely worried that i was isolating myself and was degraded with the threat that i was never going to be a man. That hurt and angered me. There came a day when i was atypically bold and knelt between her legs watching very close and curiousity got the best of me. I reached out and touched the dark hair between her legs. She froze looking at me but did not say a word and i began to touch snd investigate more. She continues to fondle her breasts and even reached down and spread herself wide open. See that she asked me? That is what a real man wants not always jerking himself like a little boy. She even instructed me as i touched her. I assisted in her climax for the first time. After she even said it was a shame i did not have a real man’s body. She even tolerated me touching myself and squirtng on her belly and between her legs. This time she was gentle verbally. Asked me to get a towel and clean her up. The next time i did not act fearful. I got just as close and touched like i wanted. My world changed when she reached for me and pulled me onto her and had me rub against her. But she also mocked.me for how fast it happened and for not even being big enough or last long enough to get it inside. I was so hurt and angry. That night she woke when i climbed on her bed while she slept. I still remember how i hated her words. Look at you trying to be a man and take what you want. Just do what you are going to do with that dirty little thing and let me sleep. Not a word as i lay on her fumblimg for entry until she reached down and guided me into her. I was only just big eniugh to enter and get past the ring of muscle. It was unreal amd draining as i quickly climaxed inside her wet heat. Wben she told me to leave and go back to bed i knew i would be back. I was never allowed to stay the night in her bed but most nights i would walk in and she would just open her legs and tell me to do what i needed to do. I cannot imagine how many times this happened day after day. Silent resentful s** with grudging consent. All during high school. Frequently on the way to and from work when i got a job and moved out. Holidays. I would go over and she would be in the kitchen cooking and not even miss a beat. She would be wearing a dress and i would enter and stand behind her g**** her breasts and grind my hips against her and she would put her elbows on the counter, and i would grind against her spurting between her cheeks or thighs since even as an adult i am too small to enter from behind at all. Always told just do what you are going to do. All of it silent even as i cleaned her of my pathetic sin with a towel. Evem now when i pleasure myself i still see her looking at me with contempt, hear her telling me to just do what i need to do with that dirty little thing. I got therapy and finally broke free of my s***** addiction to her. But she is still the only one that i have had s** with and i am in my 40s now. I pay an e***** to hold me and be momny as i touch myself and she calls me her pathetic dirty little sicko and j*******.