Child Abuse Story From Robert
by Robert
(Texas, USA)
My parents were very strict and controlling when I was growing up. I had to eat what was put in front of me no matter how much I hated it. If I didn't eat it I would be brought into the bedroom and paddled. The paddling was on my bare bottom and would leave bruises. I would then be brought back out to the table. If I still didn't eat I would be brought back in and spanked again over my already sore bottom. This would go on until I finished all the food. If I threw it up I would get spanked, I then had to clean it up and then would be served the same food again. They were also obsessed with table manners and the slightest infraction such as touching the food with my hands or eating with my mouth open would get me spanked.
Every aspect of my life was controlled. I had to be totally submissive and could never talk back. I was rarely allowed to play or act like a kid. I was expected from a very young age to act adult like.
My mom picked out all my clothes till I was in high school. She always made me dress to my shoes and socks everyday even if we were not leaving the house. I had to stay fully dressed including my shoes and socks until bedtime. No matter how hot my feet got I couldn't take the shoes off. She was obsessed with me dressing nice and wouldn't even let me wear shorts or sneakers nor white socks. They had to be dress or casual shoes and the socks had to be dark. The shirt was either bottom down or polo. The pants were either dress or a nice pair of jeans. This wasn't very comfortable in the hot southern heat. I was allowed sneakers by middle school, but was still required to stay fully dressed till bedtime.
My worst memories were never being allowed to use the restroom in public. My parents reasoning was that public restrooms were dirty and to teach me discipline. I have memories as young as 3 having to use the bathroom really bad in a public place and being told I had to hold it until we got home. I would then be threatened with a spanking if I didn't be quiet or didn't keep it in. I remember my dad holding me in his arms and telling me to hold it and not think about it. This was happening all while I was crying in total agony. This lead to me wetting my pants a few times and as punishment I got spanked. I would then be made to stand in the corner or made to kneel in uncooked rice for several hours when we got home. This fear made me keep it in no matter how painful it was. I was also randomly made to hold it at home and was told it was to teach me discipline. I had to stay still and couldn't touch myself down there. I had to act like everything was normal. I couldn't use the bathroom at church or any other public place until we got home. If we went on a trip I had to wait till we got to the hotel or the house we were staying at. Even when arriving I was sometimes told to wait a bit and not be rude. Even when visiting other people's home I wasn't allowed to go as using other people’s bathrooms was rude. I sometimes had to wait all day before I was allowed to go and even asking would get me in trouble. I would be in so much pain and agony, but my parents didn't even care and would tell me things like "holding it builds character". Sometimes my bladder would feel like a hot poker was being stuck in it. It was a very painful stinging sensation that would consume my whole body. Everything I saw and heard would be overwhelmed by the sensation. I was also forbidden to use the bathroom at school and my mom would follow me to the bathroom when I got home to make sure I did a nice long pee. If I didn't she would accuse me of going at school and would make me hold it the rest of the night. I became so fearful of public restrooms I didn't even want to use them after awhile. So many of my memories away from home were distorted by having to urinate so badly. I would start to cry knowing it would be several more hours before I could go. I was sometimes brought to a toilet if we were out a really long time, but as I got older this was less and less common. I was never allowed to go outside.
I was paddled a lot as a kid. I would sometimes get as many as 20 swats. I wasn’t allowed to yell, had to stay still and had to cry softly. After the paddling I wasn’t allowed to rub where I was paddled. The pain was unbearable like a hot iron was being pressed on my bottom and with each hit like it was being pressed harder and made hotter. There were other things like being sent to school no matter how sick I was that I will not get into now.
I have a sexual fetish for being made to hold my urine against my will and for being spanked. My theory is the only way I could deal with those situations was to become aroused by them. I feel so much guilt and feel like such as pervert. I have only told one friend about this and it’s like a dark secret of mine.
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