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How do we make good on a wrong doing that we have inflicted on another? Is the thought “Im gong to hell!” enough, or is there a plan to redemption? A good deed, followed by further good deeds….

I’ve contemplated this plenty of times and one act of mine has had me he today reflecting on something i did 17 years ago..

Back then I was in the army, in great physical condition and full of arrogance and bravado. On holidays back to Brisbane where I was from prior to enlisting. It was a Monday or Tuesday night, a night where finding a partner in crime for the night would prove hard and everyone typically stays in those nights, receiving from the weekend and preparing for the remainder of their working week. However this didn’t apply to me, on holidays everyday is a Saturday night and any activity could prove to be an exciting adventure.

The Treasury Casino was the destination, open 24hrs with drinking and gambling would be suitable for a solo journey. Hours of time in there results in intoxication and loss of money, though i wasn’t concerned at the time i just wanted more excitement and felt that this place running on empty. I had a fire cracker on me at the time, a few friends of mine had been fooling around with them a day or so earlier and i found myself with one on hand while I was there. At that moment of realising that I had the cracker and being in a less that sound state I began to consider letting it off. I knew that the fuse would provide 3-4 seconds head start and providing i didn’t look suspicious i would have a further few seconds to make my get away. I positioned myself close to exit and lit the fuse and dropped it o the ground, began my brisk walk to the door and heard an almighty bang. the enclosed room amplified the sound and the people whom i could see we rather shocked and had that typically flinch that occurs when frightened. As I got to the door, head down and full or adrenaline i turned for a split second to see was was unfolding behind me. A security guard/ doorman had seen me and had an instinct to have me. He wasn’t the typically mall type guard whom was mature aged and in less than good condition. This guy was quite muscular and wore a look of determination to get me, a look that left me in no doubt that if he caught me I would be in trouble! I ran like the wind, the thrill/ nervousness was like a power boost that had me off and gone into the distance with the sound of cars around me drowned out by the sound of me beating heart.

Once back at my car, yes I didn’t mentioned I drove into the city. the first poor decision of the night and followed up again when getting back to the car after consuming enough alcohol to well and truly exceed the legal driving limit. Not deterred I turned the key and off I went, unsure of what was to be next off I went. Late/ early morning at this point and my first though was to get laid, and nearby a place called Fortitude Valley was the place to meet the type of girls that hang out on the street (if you know what I mean). Driving along the street I saw some girls and decided to stop and chat with a girl who looked similar age to me and wouldn’t describe as unattractive. After I brief conversation and verbal contract I guess you could say she got in and off we went.

Not long after getting in the car I asked her where her place was, she said that she didn’t have one and that we would do the deed in the car. Shocked, excited and up for it I just asked where that spot should be and she directed me to the top of a hill. Quiet suburban street with plenty of trees and dim lid street lights. We both got into the back seat and removed our clothes, getting into the act. The back seat proved more than difficult to move in and I found myself out side the car, standing naked at the rear door and her all fours on the seat as I pounded away. The narrowness on the seat, the arch of the door frame, the door itself all made things awkward and finally I suggested her get out and lean over the rear boot. At this time all she had on was a sports tyre bra and Im still naked. This was a much better position and thus I get right into it and climax.

At this point I walk around to the drivers side of the car and get in, waiting for her I am looking back in the mirror and puzzled at why she is taking so long and what it is she is doing. Milliseconds seem to feel like minutes and at that point I decided to commence driving. I look back in the mirror and can see her frantically running towards the car. Even twice tapping the rear boot trying to keep up, 400 meters down the road I stopped to throw her back out of the car after taking back my money, then headed home for the night. The next day to find all of her clothes still in the foot hold of the passenger seat.

Its a crazy story i know and completely true, truly I feel guilt about my actions and a small piece of me laughs and thinks the immature behaviour has the excuse of being a harmless joke. I tell the story on occasions to friends (obviously only guys!) and I consistently get a even split result of incredibly horrified and blatant laugher. I always being the story with, “tell me? and I going to hell?

I do think about the girl often and if I had my time again I wouldn’t do it!

Can I ask you guys? Am I going to hell???

Thanks for reading

Steve

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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*******.