rSlash - r/Offmychest My 50-yo Dad is Marrying His 21-yo NIECE

Episode Date: July 9, 2025

0:00 Intro 0:11 Stuck in the rear 3:04 Comment 4:52 Sold my body 7:20 Homeless bully 8:58 Bio teacher 12:03 Mom 14:13 Age gap 15:56 Comment Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

No Frills delivers! Get groceries delivered to your door from No Frills with PC Express. Shop online and get $15 in PC Optimum Points on your first five orders. Shop now at nofrills.ca. Welcome to r slash off my chest, where OP has to go to the hospital because he gets something stuck where the sun don't shine. Our next Reddit post is from historicalcycle. It happened to me. I was the man in the hospital with something stuck up his butt. I'm a 30 year old guy and I got really drunk and was playing with a dildo, which had no

balls or a flare. I was doomed from the start. I don't know what happened. I kind of flexed my muscles because I was enjoying it and it just disappeared up there. I was so embarrassed and almost cried so many times, but all the nurses and doctors were completely unfazed. The last case of this was a few days before with a guy that had basically a whole care package up his butt because he was being sent to prison. They were also super discreet too. During handover, they were pretty loud and casually described what patient was there and for what reason, but I never heard anything about mine. It happened around midnight. They put

me under anesthesia to take it out. Luckily, no surgery. Around 12 hours later. I told no one, and I got an Uber home for 120 bucks because I live in the middle of nowhere. I slept all day after getting home. My car insurance payment got declined because of the money that I spent on the Uber. It was yesterday, and I'm still effing mortified. I know I'll get over it eventually, but man, the shame of it happening to me and wasting resources that could have been used on patients in real need is so intense.

I had a major accident a few years ago which resulted in surgery slash coma slash recovery, and I've always been so judgmental of people going to the hospital for trivial things since then. I'm so mad at myself. Wild stuff, lol. Another funny part of it that I forgot is right before I went under I saw the surgeon. He recognized me and I him. We both said, hello, enthusiastically. He's been in my booty hole before as he was a primary investigator in my long term issues after a bowel resection.

Car crash, not dildos. This brought back the memories pretty hard. And to answer a few questions, I was offered the dildo back, but I declined. I didn't want to see that thing ever again. It has no balls because it was meant to be attached to a machine, but I was just using it with my hands because I wanted to be in a better position, and I just assumed that I wouldn't vacuum that thing into my chocolate starfish. This is also why I specified that I was drunk, because I would absolutely not insert anything ball or flairless sober. This whole thing gave me the courage to confide in a friend, and he thought that it was the funniest thing ever, and perfectly fitting for Pride Month.

Thank you all for laughing along with my story and offering words of comfort. My beehole will be out of commission indefinitely while I recover mentally, LMAO. Down in the comments we have this story from Common Tiger. I'm a woman, and I got something stuck up my lady bits many years ago. The hero of my story was the grizzled overnight emergency room doctor who was completely unamused and calmed me down by telling me that he had pulled weirder things from weirder places in the human body. I was too mortified to tell my story for a lot of years, but now it's a funny story I tell to my friends.

It's funny to me that in both of these stories the doctors are like, eh, weirder stuff happens all the time. Which means there is a weirdest scenario. There is a patient who they can't say, eh, weirder things happen all the time, because they've got, I don't know, a bicycle stuck up there. And yeah, that's the weirdest one yet. Also, someone linked an article that has all the weirdest things that doctors have taken from inside of male body part urethra, from inside of girl body parts, and from inside of buttholes. I'll read some of the weirdest ones. Dildo from four days ago. A bag containing 20 hydroxazine pills into his rectum for street cred. I don't know what hydroxazine pills are. They're probably dangerous, I'm guessing.

Triple A batteries, double A batteries, one D battery. The tail of a toy dinosaur. A baby shark toy. Do do do do. A light bulb. Then also a light bulb, comma, broken. Quote, took vibrator out of butthole, noticed battery had fallen out. Darts?

No! A fake banana, a jello mold, a knife? All right, that's enough of this. Finger puppet. Our next reddit post is from Melanie Curly. I sold my body to feed my family. They spent the money on parties. I think I got tired of living for everyone else.

At 23, I decided to completely distance myself from my family. I didn't say anything. I didn't explain. I just disappeared. Ever since I was a teenager, I had to take on a role that was never mine. My father was absent, and we never got support from his side of the family. As the oldest sister, the responsibility of taking care of my mom and siblings fell on me. There was no choice. It was either that or watch them fall apart.

Out of necessity and my own survival, I ended up working as an escort. It wasn't for pleasure or out of curiosity. It was pure desperation. What I earned covered food, bills, school supplies, clothes, everything. And I also had to survive. Eat, pay rent, stay afloat. Whatever I had left after sending them money was barely enough, so I kept going even though I hated every second of it. I hated my job. I hated how it made me feel, but I convinced myself that it was worth it for them,

for a better future. But eventually, the emotional weight started killing the love that I had for them. It stopped being about love and became about guilt. A constant sense that if I didn't sacrifice myself, no one else would. One day, I picked up and moved to another part of the country. I didn't tell anyone, I just left. From there, I kept spending money.

But the more distance I put between us, the more detached I became. I stopped feeling connected. I didn't want to hear from them. I was just the source of money. Then I found the truth. While I was breaking myself piece by piece, doing something that destroyed me, they were spending money on alcohol, parties, and unnecessary things. Like it was normal.

Like my sacrifice meant nothing. That's when I broke. I cut them off completely. No more money, no more messages, no explanations. I disappeared. Not out of revenge, but because I finally understood that no one was going to protect me if I didn't. Now I'm alone, yes, in a new place starting over.

I don't know if I made the best decision, but it was the only one that kept me emotionally alive. I had to disappear just so I could begin to exist. Our next Reddit post is from South Instance. When I was 14, I used to fantasize about the girl who bullied me falling off a cliff. She used to call me Roach Face in front of everyone in the locker room. She would toss tampons at me and joke that my face could never be saved by puberty. I ate lunch in the bathroom for months. I hated her. Today, almost ten years later, I saw

her at a train station with a sign that said, Hungry, Cold, Anything Hel helps. I only recognized her because she still had that same gold nose ring and eyes that I swore I'd never forget. She looked thinner, hunched over, lost, and I didn't feel victorious. I didn't feel karma hit. I just felt hollow. I walked past her, then I walked back, then I bought her a sandwich and handed it over without saying a word. She looked at me. There wasn't a single hint of recognition, just quiet, tired gratitude. It hit me that maybe I'm still holding onto something that she forgot long ago. Maybe I became someone I wish she could have been to me. I don't know why I'm writing this.

I guess I just needed to let it out. I thought I'd feel some poetic justice, but I just felt sad. To make it even sadder, it sounds like the likely reason of why she was bullying is that she probably had some horrible home life situation of like neglectful of abusive parents, and she was lashing out in school as a response to that. And also as a result of that neglectful of abuse of parents and she was lashing out in school as a

response to that and also as a result of that neglect and abuse she ended up homeless years later. Our next reddit post is from deleted. When I was a freshman in high school I had this teacher who absolutely hated me. She was my biology teacher and was also my homeroom teacher. I never did anything to her yet she hated me. She accused me of being on drugs one time, when I'd never even seen drugs in my life at that age. I had just finished eighth grade, going on ninth grade.

I was just a tired, sleepless teenager that moved from the north to the south. I was also going through my parents' divorce. I was just depressed. Everyone down there treated me badly, just because I looked different. I had no friends here. I missed just depressed. Everyone down there treated me badly, just because I looked different. I had no friends here. I missed my friends at home. So I did really badly in high school academically. I had to take summer school. She told me I was academically

challenged. But I'm not. I was tested for that back in middle school. I don't have any disabilities. She even called me stupid in front of the entire class. One time I raised my hand to answer a question since no one else was raising their hand, and she was so persistent on getting someone else to answer. And I got the answer right, and she said, Wow guys, even OP got this right. You guys should have known the answer. Anyways, fast forward more than a decade now.

I'm a nurse. For a long time, my high school teachers made me start to believe that I was stupid. But I wasn't stupid. I ended up doing well in college. I just had a tough childhood. I was depressed. I went through a lot during my teenage years.

Last week, my former teacher from high school came into the clinic that I work at, and I took her vitals and got her ready to see the doctor. She didn't recognize me. I looked very different, obviously, lol, and I got married so I changed my last name. When I told her my first and last name, the name she knows me by, and I told her I was in her class, her eyes widened and she was shocked. She remembered me. She actually looked like she was excited to see me. She told me she was proud of me and she was shocked. She remembered me. She actually looked like she was excited to see me. She told me she was proud of me, and she never thought in a million years

that I would be her nurse. She joked to me and said, I would have thought you'd be a receptionist. I never would have imagined running into you at a clinic wearing scrubs. And she started laughing. I didn't think that was funny. Quite offensive, actually.

I was a receptionist for some time, and I hated it. They deal with more flack than doctors and nurses do. Anyways, my former teacher is still a B-word, lol. One time my wife and I went to the doctor together and we had to get our blood drawn for something. And the nurse who was drawing my wife's blood stabbed her arm like five or six times. I guess she wasn't a nurse, she would have been a phlebotomist technically. And I don't know, maybe it was her first day because she sucked.

And afterwards my wife was complaining and I made the joke, jeez, you must have pissed her off sometime in your past and forgotten about it. Kinda reminds me of this post-OP. Oops, my bad, I accidentally spilled the jar of your own pee all over your blouse. Oops, my bad. I've got to stab your arm 10 times to find the vein. It would have been a decent opportunity for some petty revenge. Our next Reddit post is from Autistic Chelson.

My mom is a recovering alcoholic and an overall piece of human excrement. This happened when she was drinking and I was a teen. My mom always favored my sister over the rest of us. Then my older brother, then my little brother, and she hated me most of all. She also was jealous because she never had a father figure growing up and I was close to my dad. So because she hated me so much, she couldn't conceive of the idea that anyone, even my own father, could love me unless they were screwing me.

So she accused me and my dad of incest multiple times. There's some Mormon stuff going on between you two. You're his second wife. She's an effing disgusting freak to even think that, let alone say it, and I'll never forgive her for it. She apologized a few times, very mildly when she got sober. I'm sorry I said that. I never had a dad, so I couldn't understand that what you two had was normal. It was all stuff that makes her out to be the victim instead of the

effing disgusting pervert that she is. I effing hate her, and I can't wait for her to die so I can finally start visiting my dad in my hometown again without having to see her. Down in the comments OP adds this. She was an effing monster when she drank. She'd tell me to kill myself, tell me she wished she could kill me, hit me and my dad. One night I told her to stop hitting my dad, so she screamed at me that if I wanted to be a part of her marriage so bad, I could be a part of it. And she yelled the graphic details of her love life with my dad at me. I'm still unpacking a lot of that stuff in therapy and realizing just how

much they skewed my perception of what a normal amount of being wished dead by your family is. The normal amount being zero times. I thought it was just in the category of people say things they don't mean when they're angry or drunk until my therapist said, yeah no, that is definitely not something you just say when you're mad. Also op clarifies that her father is still married to her mother, which just why? Why would you want to be with someone who treats your own children like that? Our next reddit post is from FlakyArticle. My dad is 50 and is planning to marry his 21 year old niece.

I'm 21 years old, disgusted and heartbroken. My dad has bipolar disorder and refuses to accept his diagnosis. My parents got divorced when I was 12. My dad left us to go to England. We would visit him about three times a year. He would play victim that he was lonely even though he left us. That's when my cousin, his niece, would go over and visit him and bring him food. Starting at the age of 12.

Oh geez. We didn't understand the extent of the situation, but he basically groomed her into being the perfect wife. He asked me two months ago if I would be okay with this. I said that he was a pervert and a creep and I would never talk to him again. He played the victim and was like, you guys never visit me. Even though we are in university, he would never reach out. My cousin manipulated him to telling him his kids don't care about him

and that no one cares about him because she's also crazy. However, he's the adult and knows better. The worst part is that in our religion, it's technically allowed, but people don't do it and her parents are celebrating what? It's sick. I'm so hurt that he chose her over me and my sister. However, at the same time, it's a weight off my shoulders that I'm finally done with his abuse. I haven't been able to stop crying that he turned into a monster. I've lost my father and now it's the

grief stage that I'm grieving my whole life. Also, if they do proceed with it, I do believe it's illegal, but I don't want to be involved in the legal process. I agree with this post from links left. What the hell did I just read? That was r slash off my chest, and if you like this content, be sure to follow my podcast because I put out new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.