This story began some time ago, during my freshman year. I was coming out of 3 years of prep school. Needless to say, those 3 years had been filled with work and only work. No parties, no friends, no hobbies, no sex.

After this dry spell of 3 years, I finally entered college were everyone were horny and fucking like rabbits. I met this girl. She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t clever. She didn’t have anything worth mentioning beside two things : she had a vagina and she was ready to give it to me. I fucked her like hell. Before her I had sex with only one girl so I fucked her like my life depended on it.

Soon, though, my behavior began to change. The alpha traits I was displaying were gone and my beta conditioning appeared. I asked for commitment. I saw her flirting with other men, even grinding some of them in front of me. I told her I would not flirt with any other women. This was a covert contract : I expected her to say she would do the same but she said nothing.

Like I have been taught, I slowly began to show her my weaknesses. It was a process that would allow me to become more and more intimate with her, I thought. You know, showing her who I really am and being true to each other. This lifelong partner, this perfect female that would support me whatever happens. Strangely, though, she began to make mention of other men. I visited her one night and woke her up and she said to me “shit, it’s the wrong man”. Sex began to be less fun. What she was doing was laying back and spreading her legs in the missionary position, waiting for me to cum in her. She would moan a little. I was convinced. On the inside, I knew there was something wrong but deep down I knew, thanks to what I’ve been told, that from the very moment her lips touched mine, she became my soul partner and that she would love me forever. I knew her “mistakes” were just that: mistakes, and that she was doing whatever she could to not make them anymore.

On Christmas, she was visiting her parents in Paris, where I was during the holidays too. “I don’t have time to see you”. I was frustrated : why couldn’t she find at least one hour for me? She was living an hour from my house, she was staying during one week in Paris, how in the world could she not find time? I asked her to send nudes to me. She said no. While I was staying at home, laying in bed, she was going out and getting drunk. I was very insecure in regard of alcohol. I didn’t knew why. She sent me pictures of her doing pole dance for other guys “I would have liked to give you some pole dance too”. She was living an hour from my home.

After the holidays, we came back to college which was in another town. Something had changed. She would talk about her ex-boyfriend who was coming into town. She said she knew it was to bang her but that it seemed he finally couldn’t make it on the scheduled week-end. However, I didn’t see her this week-end. She wasn’t answering phone calls or text messages. I was feeling worse and worse. I have been giving up my friends, my family, my hobbies and my passions and my classes for her. On the other hand, she was still studying and partying with other people. “You would be a lot more jealous if you were to see me in a night club”. I went out with the friends I still had. A guy from my school came to me on the dance floor and asked me if I was still in a relationship with the girl. I felt really insecure. A feeling that something were wrong, that I wasn’t being treated the way I wanted and that she had a negative influence on my life began to rise. But I needed her so much. Then, she began to ask me to get engaged. But before that, she insisted to see some photos of the boat and the second house I told her my parents owned. She began to talk about a baby too.

I failed my freshman year but we moved together during the second year. There, she bought me a TV, a PS4 and I spent my days playing, looking at films. I was mentally ill : my world was filled only with this girl but our relationship was driving me insane. But it was not her fault. Whose fault was it anyway? Mine, according to her. But I didn’t knew. So I hid in video games and virtual world. I got expelled from college. I would bang her when she come back from college, every night. But, in fact, no. Not every night. She began to say she had to work with some friends at school every night. But I knew well the school was closed after 6pm. And she could do her homework here! I would help her! I was not a dumb kid after all. All my teachers once had high hopes for me. But that was when I still was in high-school or college.

She began to come back home later and later. Some time, she would not come back at all. I didn’t know why and every time I asked she would slap me in the face. One night, I came back from the bar where I got drunk and I found her naked with another woman in our bed. There was a video camera in front of the bed. With horror and fear, I opened it and realized she had been filming her making love to this girl. My heart sank. It was like I was being stabbed. She was sleeping so I turned the camera off and left. I came back next morning and she was as usual. She had spent the previous evening doing her homework. I agreed and came to the bar more often. I felt deep down something had to be done. But this girl was all I had left. Losing her would be losing everything. She became pregnant. It was weird because we only had sex without a condom once but hey, it was luck!

She began to transform completely. She told me to get a job to support “us” financially while she would get her degree. Then, she would be the one having a job and supporting us. My friends were long time gone. My family was against this marriage so I cut contact with them.

One night after coming back from my shitty job, I went crazy. It was too much. I took her phone, her computer and stalked her. I found photos of her with other men. There was nudes of her sent to other guys on the phone. I recalled those Christmas holidays when she didn’t wanted to send me nudes. Then I checked the computer. I found some photos of her sucking other guy’s dicks. It was like a hall of fame. She had a sex list. In horror, I found a word document where she described the encounters she had had with the men on her sex list. Comments like “his dick were juicy”, “he fucked me like I’ve never been fucked” and even one “fucking him and knowing my husband were sleeping on the other side of the wall was incredibly exciting”. I recalled how often she would go to the neighbor’s apartment to get a massage. I didn’t have her facebook password. I entered her bedroom (I was sleeping on the couch now) and searched everything. I found nothing. There must had been a mistake. Or a bad joke. When she came back that night, we had an argument. She told me to hit her if it could help me feel better. I was practicing martial arts before I met her. I had been practicing for around ten years. Part of me was saying not to hit her, reminding myself of my teacher’s teachings. But her screaming in tears that she was a slut and that she deserved to be hit and that she would be happy to be hit by the man she loved, by the man she didn’t deserve because she was such a piece of filthy shit compared to him made me act in anger and despair. And I hit her. All the anger. All the frustration. All the things I didn’t understood in our relationships, all the nights spent torturing myself because of her. With all my might, I hit her with the most destructive punch I learned during my Kung-Fu training. I broke her shoulder and I kept slapping her on the face, asking her in tears why she did that. She went to the hospital and got healed without saying anything about me hitting her.

After that, things began to change. Our baby was about one year old, I was devoured by shame and regrets of what I’ve done and the authoritative and angry wife turned into a still person that would avoid me. She began to go sleep to some other places with our baby for periods of one week or two. I would say nothing because I understood how much of a monster I am. Then, she graduated. I came back one night and she told me she had just been having a threesome with two other men. She showed me the video and told me “Now, hit me. Hit me to punish the dirty whore I am”. I hit her again. She went to the cops. She is now filling for divorce, moving to another town with her degree and her baby. I am un-employed, alone and isolated from anyone else including family, I don’t have any money anymore and I have child custody to pay, I don’t have a degree. I have been diagnosed with severe depression and I stay at home all day doing drugs and taking my antidepressants, waiting for the cops to force me to get out of the apartment which bill I didn’t pay. I tried to reach out for my family but they don’t want to have anything to do with me.

So. This is a partly fictional story. Everything is true until the part where we moved together. Thanks to God, things went differently. But I thank God and everything on earth that things didn’t ended up this way. I often think about what would have happened and this kind of story often comes to mind. Here is what actually happened instead :

This story began some time ago, during my freshman year. I was coming out of 3 years of prep school. Needless to say, those 3 years were filled with work and only work. No parties, no friends, no hobbies, no sex. After this dry spell of 3 years, I finally entered college were everyone were horny and fucking like rabbits. I met this girl. She wasn’t beautiful. She wasn’t clever. She didn’t have anything worth mentioning beside two things : she had a vagina and she was ready to give it to me. I fucked her like hell. Before her I had sex with only one girl so I fucked her like my life depended on it. Soon, though, my behavior began to change. The alpha traits I was displaying were gone and my beta conditioning appeared. I asked for commitment. I saw her flirting with other men, even grinding some of them in front of me. I told her I would not flirt with any other women. This was a covert contract : I expected her to say she would do the same but she said nothing. Like I have been taught, I slowly began to show her my weaknesses. It was a process that would allow me to become more and more intimate with her, I thought. You know, showing her who I really am and being true to each other. This lifelong partner, this perfect female that would support me whatever happens. Strangely, though, she began to make mention of other men. I visited her one night and woke her up and she said to me “shit, it’s the wrong man”. Sex began to be less fun. What she was doing was laying back and spreading her legs in the missionary position, waiting for me to cum in her. She would moan a little. I was convinced. On the inside, I knew there was something wrong but deep down I knew, thanks to what I’ve been told, that from the very moment her lips touched mine, she became my soul partner and that she would love me forever. I knew her “mistakes” were just that: mistakes, and that she was doing whatever she could to not make them anymore. On Christmas, she was visiting her parents in Paris, where I was during the holidays too. “I don’t have time to see you”. I was frustrated : why couldn’t she find at least one hour for me? She was living an hour from my house, she was staying during one week in Paris, how in the world could she not find time? I asked her to send nudes to me. She said no. While I was staying at home, laying in bed, she was going out and getting drunk. I was very insecure in regard of alcohol. I didn’t knew why. She sent me pictures of her doing pole dance for other guys “I would have liked to give you some pole dance too”. She was living an hour from my home. After the holidays, we came back to college which was in another town. Something had changed. She would talk about her ex-boyfriend who was coming into town. She said she knew it was to bang her but that it seemed he finally couldn’t make it on the scheduled week-end. However, I didn’t see her this week-end. She wasn’t returning phone calls or text messages. I was feeling worse and worse. I have been giving up my friends, my family, my hobbies and my passions and my classes for her. On the other hand, she was still studying and partying with other people. “You would be a lot more jealous if you were to see me in a night club”. I went out with the friends I still had. A guy from my school came to me on the dance floor and asked me if I was still in a relationship with the girl. I felt really insecure. A feeling that something were wrong, that I wasn’t being treated the way I wanted and that whe was of a negative influence on my life began to rise. But I needed her so much. Then, she began to ask me to get engaged. But before that, she insisted to see some photos of the boat and the second house I told her my parents owned. She began to talk about a baby too. I decided it was too much and that she was making my life miserable. I broke up with her. During the next few weeks I discovered TRP and went onto the anger phase. I was diagnosed with severe depression and couldn’t go out of my room anymore. But I somehow managed to go to some classes. My blue pill conditioning has made me addicted to this girl. The pain of losing the only thing I had left in my life (her) and the pain of swallowing the pill made my life a living hell during the last few months of freshman year. I cut contact with anyone but my family who supported me like no one ever supported me. I got medication for my depression and I am now working my butt off to build my life back once again. I began to work out, I picked up acupuncture and martial arts training and I work every day to get back on tracks in college. I have finals at the end of August to not get expelled from college.