/jp/ - Otaku Culture

[Anonymous2007 !7AnImelIIg No.]

Some 19-year-old guy came over to my house a few times. He lived across the street, though I can't remember what his (alleged) intentions were in coming over. I couldn't tell what kind of race he was - part-Mexican, part-black, some kind of brown - but I remember him being fairly tall with one of those shitty half-assed mustaches those types of guys grow. You know, the kind where it's somewhere between ratty stray hairs and a full, well-groomed mass of hair.

Anyways, the only real memory I have of this guy was my grandpa walking in on him in my room with his jeans down to his ankles and the back of my head blocking the view of his genitals. All I heard was my grandpa's authoritative yet perplexed voice say, "What's going on in here?" The guy was stunned into silence, and I, for whatever reason, cheerily explained to my grandpa that he was teaching me how to zip up my jeans. And somehow he bought it.

That's where I received and gave my first blowjob. I didn't see the guy at my house anymore after that. I saw him on the street a short while later, and I waved and said hello, but he didn't respond. After that, I didn't see him ever again. I found out later that he was a registered child molester. I was four.

Cut to my next memory. I'm in preschool. It's recess, and I go play with a girl I'd befriended. What did we play? Why, house, of course. What girl doesn't want to play house? I could've played with the other kids, but I had other plans.

[Anonymous2007 !7AnImelIIg No.]

We sat down in the little play house, and she's blathering on about some pretend nonsense. I mention something about peepees. I ask her if she has one. She says no. I ask her if she's seen one. She says no. I ask her if she wants to. She's interested. I pull down the front of my pants and expose my PENIS. She giggles, saying something like, "that's weird."

"What are you doing?" Some kid must've heard the conversation and now he's interested. I yell at him to go away, that this is private, and he's not allowed in. He gets butthurt and runs off. I think I'm in the clear.

"Can I see yours?" I ask the girl. She responds, "But I don't have one!" She pulls down the front of her pants to show me. Just as that happens, I hear, "What's going on in here?!" Oh shit, it's the fucking teacher. Just my luck, too, that she's a woman. She goes on a tirade and I can't quite slip my way out of this one.

I get kicked out of preschool. My mom denies the whole thing, deeming the incident ridiculous. The girl got to stay in. I saw her a year or two later outside the preschool. We waved. I never saw her again after that. I was five.

Moving forward to kindergarten. I was increasingly having trouble containing my sexual urges. I began popping boners left and right, yet I didn't understand the mechanics of "getting off" at that point, so there was nothing I could do about them, other than reach down my pants and "adjust." That got me a lot of dirty looks. However, I soon found a way around this.

Second grade. The teacher is giving this long, boring lecture, and I doze off, daydreaming about things that got me hard. Sure enough, I got hard. This time, however, I decided to do something about it. I began rubbing my dick against my inner thigh from the outside of my pants, and it felt amazing. I was detached from the world in an overwhelming feeling of ecstasy. The feeling built and built and built until I ejaculated, though nothing came out.

[Anonymous No.]

It was me. I was the molester.