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Leaving behind debt,
since my husband fled at night――
I was no longer allowed to hide my breasts,
nor to stop.
Made to wear clothes with my breasts fully exposed,
made to walk through the night streets,
every time I was exposed to the public,
my heart was eroded,
but he played with these breasts
like a toy,
grabbing, shaking, kneading,
and as if it were natural,
he dominated me, saying
'You're my onahole, right?'
Scary.
Embarrassing.
I want him to stop everything.
...But.
Every time my breasts are touched,
every time I'm paraded around,
I hate myself,
who feels a warmth spreading deep inside.
I hate it――
but the fact that I can't stop
is the scariest.