This is going to be a rambling post because I’m still a bit drunk but I really don’t give a fuck. I’ll get to the point eventually. I just needed to vent and this was the closest spot to what I needed now and I thank /u/PervOtaku for seeing that this place is somewhere I straddle as well.

I’ve just had one of the worst days of my life yesterday. Basically, I had my mom tell me that she feels she wasted the last 19 years of her life with me. So yeah. What’s funny is she is one of the reasons I’m in places like here, /r/rapekink. All my fucking life, I was her little mini-me. She was poor but scary smart and worked her ass off and now she’s got her own medical practice and lives well as a big fish in a small/medium pond. Dad was much the same story but he’s just normal smart and has his own tax practice. Of course, his past actions are also a major reason I’m here.

So, since they had excelled and risen up, I was supposed to match or surpass them, especially according to my mom. I still fucking remember being in the 3rd grade and getting a B. I was yelled at, told how disappointed she was in me, and how that wasn’t acceptable. That was the last B I ever got. All because I was fucking distracted by why my dad didn’t love me anymore. I did start getting panic attacks though in the exchange, any time I struggled. And I did sometimes struggle because I went to good schools and took hard classes and I’m not scary smart. I had to work my ass off for those A’s.

And I eventually started to learn new ways, as I hit puberty, to deal with those stresses. I’ve written about them elsewhere if you want to read them. It’s how I coped, and I met my Master, my love, my Daddy and he took care of me. Of course, that’s more now than then. And now, I’m finally getting to the point about what this fetish is to me.

I’ve only recently even processed it as a fetish, again, thanks to /u/PervOtaku. I would hook up with my guy to escape. I knew some people like me, high-pressure powder kegs waiting to explode because we never felt like we could be good enough and one mistake was the end of the world. Some of them did drugs and some were cutters. We all found our outlets though.

Mine was my guy. There wasn’t a budding romance, it was us both getting off in ways we needed and wanted. Venting I guess. I explained my needs and he helped me address them. I didn’t have to be Sammie, the 4.0 student with more extracurriculars than she had time for, giving up her social life just to be good enough so that her parents would love her.

Instead, I was Bad Sammie, most commonly a trashy teen slut, who liked to smoke, dress provocatively, and be used like a bitch. We didn’t have much time, often just a few hours every couple of weeks, but I could escape and be someone else. Someone that those on this subreddit can identify with.

I let him dress me (and still do), and I let him take control. I didn’t have to be perfect because I clearly wasn’t. I wasn’t inferior, but I was a cunt that needed to be used however he saw fit. Usually, we both had orgasms, but sometimes I was just a hole for him to cum in. It always fed the need, however. He told me I was a natural submissive and I loved it. I look back now and I think he was the only reason I survived without having a breakdown.