Leaving behind debt, since my husband fled at night―― I was no longer allowed to hide my breasts, nor to stop. Forced 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 really hate myself for the heat that spreads slowly deep inside. I hate it―― but the fact that I can't stop is the scariest.