After my husband skipped town leaving debts behind—I wasn't allowed to cover my chest or stop. Forced to wear clothes that expose my chest, walking down the night streets, every time I'm exposed to public view my heart feels chipped away. He plays with my breasts like they're a toy, grabbing and shaking them, kneading them over and over. 'You're just my fuckdoll, right?' he says, as if it's obvious, dominating me. It's scary. It's humiliating. I want him to stop everything.... But. Every time my chest is touched, every time I'm taken around, heat spreads slowly inside me. I really hate this about myself. But what scares me the most is that even though I hate it, I can't stop.
