Mr. Rogers

Everyone keeps blaming me for what I am doing, but they forget I was not like this, someone made me like this, and that person was no other than my mother.

Yes, my mother, you see, when I was fifteen, my mother would come to my room and touch me. At first, I wanted to tell my father, but I loved the feeling of being touched by her.

Nobody wanted to play or be close to me since I was a result of a rape. Yeah, my mother was raped, but my father loved me nonetheless. She always came to my room every night to suck me till...