House-Wife Sexuality

Real Masculinity inspires a woman's worship – without using force, violence and ignoring emotional needs.

My childhood with my father/mother, father, father/step-mother

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Where to start? The last thing I remember from my early early childhood was when I was 3. I had a pacifier in my mouth and it was Christmas Day. I received a teddy bear with a hat over one ear. I remember trying to see if the ear was under his hat. I kept trying to take the hat off. He was soft. I loved him very much. Christmas days for some reason are the one things I remember VERY WELL.

Ever since that memory I remember there was always a power struggle between my parents. We had happy memories. but, the constant feeling I always had was I just felt bad, sadness and confusion majority of the time.

The avoidance of Pain has been the greatest driving force for my reason for accepting polygamy and submission.

My father when disciplining us would spank us hard. Using, rulers, paddles; his hands hurt the most. My father was a gymnast and in karate. Massive muscles and very very strong. I now know that the reason he spanked us was because my mother always undermined his authority in front of us or never allowed my father to follow through with consequences for unruly behavior.

My mother was very emotionally unstable. She threw child tantrums.
One time I had made special no eat cookies that were drying on the window sill. A therapist was over to try to help my mom. She lost control at the mere thought that she was the one who needed to change. She kicked a glass mug which bounced off a window. Breaking my cookies and the mug.

There was a another time that I remember one of our neighbors came over and my mother was screaming hysterically; throwing her arms, legs and body around. Pacing around the house in a frantic rage. I was chasing after her saying ” i love you mommy, i love you mommy” I was about 6.

To show how much of a mommies girl i was the in last argument before it all ended. She took me to a hotel where we stayed and she used me to talk to my dad. She called him on the phone and told me what to say etc. I always did what “mommy” said.

The last memory I have of my father and mother is when i was seven. They were fighting in the kitchen. She was angry at him for spanking us kids so hard, so often and very rarely sometimes left marks. She got so angry that she picked up a knife and threatened to slit his throat. I saw the last thread of connection between her and my father disappear. The next morning she was gone.

Next chapter to be continued

 

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