Confession of a Rapist – Why I did That and My Regrets

Confession of a Rapist
Confession of a Rapist

You Can Also Read This Story In: hiहिन्दी (Hindi)

I am a simple person. I like simplicity in return. These pictures people post online with make-up, fake friends, useless quotes added frustrates me. I wonder where is the real world? Do we really enjoy living this farce of a life that we have created for ourselves? I don’t. But the truth also is that I like attention, which is exactly what I don’t get very often- because I am simple. I don’t pose for pictures, post selfies or throw trash around online about my life and its lessons.

When I get to work I realize that I don’t fit in. School was different, so was college as it was all about our education. When I get to work I don’t feel alive because my existence is not valued. So I have taken it up as a task to make my mark, make myself noticed. All my good work does get me appreciation, but that doesn’t win me respect. So I demand respect, attention and everything I want when I meet my target. Oh, I mean people who live fake lives, behind facades. My partner loves me and I get what I want. Sex, respect and attention. At times though, my family and partner make me realize that they give me this only when they want to, not because I deserve it. I will show them what I deserve.

When I choose my target, I do so wisely. Someone who is so fake that is it essential to remove their mask, so egoistic that they need to be shown the ground reality and so full of themselves that they cannot think of anyone better than themselves. I fix my sight on what they do, where they go, their weaknesses, and their likings. I don’t get violent, that is just really crass. I get them to give me what I want lovingly and without regret. Sex for me is instant gratification and I have it in a way that it gains me respect and attention.

My targets are never the same also, some don’t want to protest when I demand sex thinking I will have them exposed for something (they aren’t innocent you know!), some protest and yet can’t get over my magnetism so they give in, whereas some feel they’d rather get this dealt with, but I don’t care about their feelings. I don’t care a fuck. I want what I want.

Verbal consent, pleading and crying, foreplay-what’s that? I coerce, cajole and get them to sleep with me, pleasure me and move on. They can’t do anything about it- either they listen to me, or I make them listen, feel me, want me and bam! I’ve got what I wanted, by the time they can even breathe. The feeling of power at the end of it all is full bodied. Once I’ve had them, they tend to become normal people without those masks, some shame and a real life, whereas I remain the bitch I am and go back home to my boyfriend.

Written by Girlopedia Staff

Techie by profession blogger by hobby, founder of Girlopedia.

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