Should I Permit Him?

My boyfriend only made love to me when I am on my peri0d. Now I look like a living Skelton.

Each time, he would squeeze the bl0d from my stained p@d into a cup adding some water before drinking it.

Whenever I refused, he would stop giving me money or completely ignore me.

My name is Mabel.

I met Jonathan when I was 18, in my second year at the university. I came from a very poor background. Life was hard, and I struggled to survive on campus.

So when Jonathan,one of the richest boys in school—asked me out, it felt like a miracle. Dating him felt like a privilege, a turning point in my life. I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Within just two months of dating him, my life changed completely. I went from poor to comfortable. My friends admired me and wished they had a boyfriend like Jonathan. I felt like I was finally winning in life.

Jonathan spoiled me with gifts, money, and attention. I felt loved, pampered, and valued.

But there was one strange thing about him.

He kept asking me when I usually saw my period.

At first, I thought it was a harmless question. Maybe he was planning a surprise, as he often did. I shyly told him, and he only smiled without saying much.

Then one day, my period came.

Before I could even tell him, he called and asked me to come over to his house. When I arrived, I was surprised. He had already bought pads, yogurt, snacks, and even medicine for cramps.

I felt so special. I thought I had found a man who truly cared.

He made me comfortable, boiled hot water, and gently pressed it on my stomach to ease the pain.

That night, after I had bathed and changed my pad, I was about to sleep when he said something that shocked me.

“I need to make love to you,” he said calmly.

I froze.

“What?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied. “This is the right time. Making love during your period will seal our love perfectly.”

I felt irritated and scared. I told him it was wrong and forbidden to make love to a woman during her period.

He laughed and dismissed my fears, calling them superstition. He kept persuading me, refusing to listen to my objections.

When I insisted on leaving to return to my lodge, he threatened me.

“If you leave, don’t ever call me again,” he said. “I’ll block your number and delete you. There are many girls ready to take your place.”

My throat tightened.

The fear of returning to poverty overwhelmed me. I told myself it would be just this once. I convinced myself it was a small sacrifice compared to losing everything I had gained.

So I stayed.

That decision remains the worst regret of my life.

After that night, I thought Jonathan would change.

He did—but not the way I expected.

Instead of becoming distant, he became sweeter. Every month, immediately after sleeping with me during my period, he would shower me with attention like never before.

Money would drop into my account without me asking. Written by Gracious Folktale

Expensive gifts would appear.

He would call me “my queen,” “my lucky charm,” “my blessing.”

I was confused.

The pãin I felt inside didn’t match the way he treated me outside. While my heart was heavy with fêar and shãme, Jonathan looked happier, more relaxed, and more successful each time.

It became a pattern.

Whenever my period approached, he would suddenly become extra caring. He would ask about my health, remind me to rest, and promise me surprises. Afterward, the love doubled. The gifts increased. The money came faster.

People around me started talking.

“Jonathan really loves you,” my friends said.

“You’re glowing,” some added.

But I wasn’t glowing.

I was fading.

My body grew weaker with each passing month. I lost weight. I tired easily. Sometimes I would feel dizzy for no reason. Yet Jonathan looked stronger, richer, and more confident than ever. Written by Gracious Folktale

When I complained, he would smile and pull me close.

“You’re just stressed,” he said. “School life is hard.”

I wanted to believe him.

I told myself the suffering would end someday. I told myself the love meant something. I told myself the money was proof that he cared.

But late at night, when he slept peacefully beside me, a question haunted my mind:

Why do I feel like I’m losing myself… while he keeps gaining everything?

That was when fêar slowly replaced confusion.

And deep down, I knew this was only the beginning. Written by Gracious Folktale

But it didn't last for long until Jonathan made a silly request

Just when I thought it was over,just when I believed Jonathan only wanted my body—he made another request.

One evening, he asked me to keep my used pãd for him. Written by Gracious Folktale

I was shocked.

I demanded to know why.

Jonathan smiled softly and held my hands.

“You mean so much to me,” he said. “Keeping something that belongs to you is like keeping a part of you… a memory.”

His words melted my doubts. Written by Gracious Folktale

No man had ever spoken to me that way. I felt special. Chosen. Loved in a strange, deep way I couldn’t explain.

So I agreed.

Each time I gave it to him, he would disappear into the kitchen, warm water soak the used pãd in a tea cup, then add some milk and hot water and drink it like tea, afterward, he became unusually generous.

He would return smiling, relaxed, fulfilled.

Then the rewards came.

Expensive dresses.

Luxury wigs.

Shoes, bags, perfumes—everything a “big lady” wore. Written by Gracious Folktale

My wardrobe changed. My appearance changed. My lifestyle rose higher.

But my body told a different story.

While Jonathan flourished, I weakened.

Yet I ignored the warning signs.

Because every time fear tried to speak, money silenced it..

I stop visiting home for holidays to avoid my parents boring Christian talk. All I ever wanted was money and as long as Jonathan keeps giving me the money then am fine