She was trying to have another baby and had suffered several miscarriages. ... I’ve started to open up to some friends and family about having an abortion. Three years ago, my sister, a young ... Before you even attempt to convince me that abortion isn't murder, just save your breath because I do consider my sister in-law to be a murderer and I'll never forgive her for taking my niece's life (she was 5 months pregnant and had a 3rd trimester abortion, so she already knew the gender and everything.) There was nothing wrong with that child, she was having a perfectly healthy pregnancy ... Hi everyone, I had my son on September 7th...he is the light of my life. My sister told me a few weeks ago that she had an abortion last year because she's in PA school and the time wasn't right, she didn't want to have to drop out of school and disappoint our family. During the final bender I nursed her through, I had to recruit her sister to help me get into her apartment. After we talked her down from her despair and her sister left, she cajoled me into hooking up with her before we both passed out. The next day, I was working on my computer and helping taper her off when she suddenly came to. I wanted to tell my family I had an abortion — my entire family — because it was a vital life decision I wasn't ashamed to have made. But, looking back, I still could have used some help ... Justification does not depend upon our sanctification. In other words, our salvation is not dependent on our works in any way. Justification (salvation) is based upon what Jesus did. Jesus bore our sins in His body on the cross (1 Pet. 2:24). Jesus paid for our sins--all of them. They are gone because He removed them. Abortion is a big deal to me I was dating a girl many years ago. We had an intimate relationship but we were not in love. One night, after sex, as we laid on the floor, the TV flashed some story about a local politician who lost an election. She ...
2020.10.22 20:08 talithadraven Secret sister sex
Let’s start from beginning: I did several home pregnancy tests, which turned out faulty/very faint results. I didn’t know what to think about it, so I messaged about it my older sister since I know that she is way more experienced in this than me.
Besides giving me nearly no advice on the result, our conversation went something like this:
Sister: “so who’s is it?”
(Such question quite honestly insulted me, because I’m in stable relationship with my bf(24) of two years and I don’t sleep with anyone else. )
Me: “my bf, who else?”
Sister: “idk who you sleep around with..... why didn’t you use plan B pill?”
Me: “and after which of those ~20 PROTECTED (condom) intercourses in past month should have I taken it?”
Sister: “20? jeez, I’m jealous. What you gonna do if you’re pregnant tho?”
Me: “well, abortion”
Sister: “are you fucking serious?”
Sister: “it is a child tho. A whole ass living child you are about to kill!!”
Me: “sorry, but it is not a whole ass child. If my calculation is correct, the fetus in me is like 2-3 weeks old and it doesn’t even have a heart yet or any organ for that matter.”
Sister: “it is a child since the moment you let your bf shoot it in you”
Me: “no offense, but none of this sound right from you since I know you’ve had abortions”
(I know this information because years ago, when I was about 13 and was dealing with health problems, at the doctors office the nurse pulled out paperwork for my sister instead of mine and she asked “ummm, you’ve had 3 abortions?” And I was like “uuuh? No I’ve never even had sex” and then the nurse double checked and said “oh sorry, that was your sisters document...”. So basically when she was even younger than my age, she already had several abortions done.)
Sister: “that’s absolutely not true, I’ve never had an abortion in my life. If anything I’ve only used plan B, which is way before the egg and sperm connect”
Me: “even that doesn’t sound right with your philosophy of shooting it tho”
Sister: “whatever, anything can be handled. You can birth it and give it to me”
Me: “ye sure....”
Its been about 2 weeks ago and I am still absolutely fuming from this conversation, how she insulted me and how hypocritical she was. I nearly didn’t talk to her at all after that. I also decided to not let her know that I know she’s lying because I didn’t want to push the fight any further. This situation is difficult as it is, mentally and very much so physically since the pregnancy symptoms kicked in. I thought my sister can be trusted with anything, but now I feel like she threw our relationship through the window with the fact that she doesn’t respect my decision. And tries to lecture me on what is happening and what will happen with this fetus.
Besides that, she couldn’t keep a secret and probably told our parents about it. since I arrived home today to visit them over weekend, they are talking to me only about finally being ready to have their first grandchild and how excited they are, how amazing it will be to buy toys, etc. I don’t know for sure if she told them or if they are just having a grandbaby fever, so I rather didn’t say anything to them and just listen to that dreamy talk.
Anyway, my sister lost my trust on all levels possible. Right now I know I’m raging so much I don’t wanna even see her, but in future, I don’t know if I should try to salvage our relationship or trust. At the moment I feel like I could never talk to her again, because such topic is a big deal, it was not a fight over who’s gonna play with dolls now. I know that she is fighting hard for me to keep it because she is trying to have a child for years and is unsuccessful. But I had my time to decide and I am not keeping it.
She betrayed my trust many times before, she did now, she revealed my secrets to parents and I know she’s gonna do it again. Is there even point in trying to keep any relationship with such person?
Sorry if this was too long, I guess that’s it. Thank you for any advice on how to approach the relationship with her now
submitted by talithadraven to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
2020.10.22 17:17 RealityIsRestless Follow up to : "Enthusiast Sex programming cults on Reddit are using advanced conditioning hypnosis to experiment on willing participants utilizing triggers, behavioral modification, and mkultra style techniques. This is a vast intelligence operation!"
I received some eye opening comments on my post the other day, so i've highlighted some bellow for this follow up (CLICK FOR PREVIOUS POST)
"Everything you have covered is right, I've been trying to get out of it for years, its legit porn on crack. Got pretty deep for a while and fortunately moved home for a period which made me purge and broke my addiction.
It all started with Binaural Beats... there was loads which you listen to for a while and its effect generates a level of brainwave, so you can blast delta waves to get a super deep sleep or beta waves to bring your mind to high focus - some to aid in astral projection etc.
Bwgen and its presets kinda opened the door there I think, it wasnt long after there were some kink things available and then, boom, fdhypno (tread carefully on this path).
Goes way beyond reddit, you havent mentioned the Discord groups, huge servers of people hooked on this stuff (in the thousands), before that across tumblr and skype. These are networks trading in exploitation, data and money out of the intended effects of 'sissy hypno'-and all its myraid of forms. Its massive.
Its real entrapment slavery and blackmail at the end of it, of which I became a willing victim for a while. Probs will have something wreck my life one day, or it already has. It ingrains it in you to seek it out, its really messed up.
My minds done though still after a good year of cold turkey, even reading the post here has been a bit risky but I feel emboldened for the first time in a while its being recognised. My ambition, confidence, motivation still gone but its stepping stones.
As someone else said, definitely my darkest secret."
"So I can speak from experience on erotic hypnosis.. I found a guy on YouTube while I was exploring meditation & a bunch of other ways to control my consciousness. I have done some therapeutic hypnotherapies online & I can be put fully under hypnosis by a video. There was a big difference between the erotic hypnotist & the hypnotherapist. The hypnotherapist always said you can choose to take my suggestions or leave them, only absorb what holds true to you. The erotic hypnotist spoke of obedience. I fell for his voice & I found myself watching his videos constantly. He would tell me to leave this particular comment and then without any thought I would. I have never felt such sexual satisfaction in my life. He made my body tremble by his voice, an orgasm that is stronger then you’ve ever felt before.
I knew this was wrong. I knew he was manipulating me. He wanted me to be his good girl. He made sure to reply to your YouTube comments to keep you coming back. Maybe he wasn’t pure evil, maybe he wanted women to feel pleasure & I did.
Here’s the theory I’ve had for AWHILE! I used to rave a lot lsd, candy flip, pure mdma. It got to the point I noticed these visuals would put the people around me & even myself into a hypnotic trance. One day I went alone on some LSD I was in the front of major lazors stage & all of a sudden I was hooked I was aware I was under hypnosis & I had to get out. My free will and inner consciousness clicked in and I left as soon as I could. Why does the rave industry promote the use of these mind altering drugs? Why are the visuals hypnotic? The sounds are also under 432 hertz you can look up sound frequencies & how they affect the frequency of you and your consciousness. We have been under mind control for years. No need to fear it. Just strengthen your mind. Meditation will free you seriously. Connect with your higher self. But yeah anyways everything you said is true I’ve forsure experienced it.
Acid is not the answer nor the key to life. These psychedelics should only be used with a higher purpose. Take this from someone who has taken well over 100 tabs of acid. There’s a reason why I will never touch it again. Life is a big ass time loop & you are in control of your consciousness. Don’t give it away." "Having researched Eriksonian hypnosis AND reviewed a few files myself, I feel I can speak to this. The books I’ve read (or skimmed, at least) have suggested there is overlap between the techniques of recreational hypnosis, NLP, and mk-ultra type techniques. In fact, some sources I’ve read have suggested to any survivors who are able that we learn about these things to get a better idea of what’s going on/to know when we’re being played with.
Understanding how this shit works makes it so much less terrifying (or would, I imagine).
There are low-cost courses on NLP available through Udemy. Nimja also has a file to remove cues/triggers from other sources, but I cannot vouch for the safety of using it as an mk survivor. I had only partial, temporary success with it myself.
"Freemasons . The days of Baal worship they were burning babies to Moloch , but at the same time at this ritual they were sacrificing souls to Asteroth . The souls sacrificed were priests (trannys) and priestess (sluts) , the term sacrificial losers . Anal sex black magic . Priests and priestess is a bit of a joke considering the low slavish rank they had in that community . The lowest of the lows . Animals with one prime purpose to be vampirised for their life force from their souls . Sissy Hypno is no accident . Mind control programming combined with actual astral travel to be raped by demons & the soul changed into a transsexual being . They intend to make this a lot bigger than people know with the intention of harvesting victims soul energies for dubious purposes of war weaponry and to depopulate by ensuring the victims family tree stops oand targeting their kids to ensure the same . A type of castration extermination . Under the - "We are just trying to save the planet by depopulating" . The black magic is Kabbalah magic . So you get who's behind this ."
"I fell into that rabbit hole whilst searching for "motivation to work out", expecting the majority of personal trainers giving good tips. I ended up on a YouTube hypnosis video, where I found out I am susceptible to hypnosis. Terrified at the effect I found one video that had been posted to help out people, but which also drew you into their web of Hypno videos.
I was at the point of suicide after two weeks. I literally couldn't speak about it to anyone. If I didn't have the spiritual beliefs and practices that I do, I would still be there.
The Hypno files had names like "stopping anxiety during exams" and "stopping anxiety about flying". Things that people with these issues might search for. One listen and they have you 'addicted' to listening to the files.
I have spoken to professional hypnotists about this, but noone in the industry believes you can be hypnotised against your will. I have refuted that, to no avail. Noone seems to take it seriously and the one hypnotist who spoke to his organisation in London hasn't had any effect.
I keep watching the subscriptions for these channels go up constantly, and have even seen two online articles speaking about them, which could get people interested in having a look and maybe having a go at trying it. It is scary."
"I'm trying to think of how I can help people who may be caught up in all this, but the main block is that I have to think of my own safety. One word from these people and I could be targeted.
You have no idea how much relief flooded into my system when I saw this post. This is the first time I have seen anyone talk about this online.
Look into it, but don't listen. It's not the audio itself that is dangerous, but the subliminal messages buried in the file that you cannot hear (but your subconscious mind can).
Thank you OP for bringing this up.
"Hypnosis is very real, I certainly came from that skeptic background that though it was just a fun magic trick or something obscure that was fun to think about, but nothing serious.
Hypnosis is not a theory, or an idea, it is a science, If you place a subject (and you can be the one placing yourself) into a trance state, (which is a natural state of mind that borders between awake and asleep) Where you drop your brainwaves from beta to theta, you are in a state that is more suggestible. This actually happens when you watch TV too, Your brain calms down from the rapid fire beta state, where you’re no longer producing several ideas, you’re mind has “turned off” and relaxed.
In this theta state you are very suggestible, and absorbing everything, this is where people get deep rooted political views that they don’t even understand why they have. But since it was embedded in their subconscious mind in the theta state, it is now brought to the attention of the beta state/conscious mind through the inner voice. Why wouldn’t you trust yourself?
This is where it gets crazy, because you can very much program peoples inner voices. You can program your own inner voice. And it’s not something to be taken lightly. Thoughts are real. Everything that is physical came from a form of energy that was like a seed from thoughts.
“Watch your thoughts, as your thoughts become words. Watch your words as you words become actions. Watch your actions as your actions become character.”
It’s like compounding interest. You don’t watch a hypnosis and that is immediately who you are. It slowly unravels from thoughts, to words, to actions, to your whole personality.
There are theories that the whole porn industry is funded by people like George soros. I have no proof for this. These programming techniques have been known since ancient Egypt, it’s nothing new. MK ultra may have broke out to the public knowledge in the 70s 80s (and yes it is still happening today) But they weren’t some niche experiments in the 60s. These are experiments that have been heavily researched during WW2 when the nazi’s, and have now entered the modern world through operation paper clip. And the nazi’s didn’t invent the experiments, as I’ve said, these mind control experiments have existed since as early as ancient Egypt.
Media is propaganda, when you realize that thoughts do indeed create reality. Imagine how much power you have when you control peoples thoughts. Your very desires can be manufactured by thought control, and unknowing victims will think it was of their own free will.
Mind control, hypnosis, brainwashing. It is all very real. Instead of being completely fearful of it, I suggest you study it. You can apply the same techniques in positive manners. And truly transform your life. It’s completely fascinating to learn about."
" I’m a somnambulant, I fell into the world of hypnosis at 11, it started innocently. My older sister who was 13 said she would watch hypnosis videos online to get high without drugs with her friends and they would eat ice cream. Well, when I got my first phone, I sat down by myself and did just that. I found out something wonderful, the human brain is powerful, I felt relaxation stronger then I ever have before. It wasn’t long before I found erotic hypnosis, before I even saw porn I was listening. Humans have a natural attraction to hypnosis, especially women who often rely on psychological stimulation in order to orgasm. The MKUltra people know what they are doing, they are out for your children. Out to program your children. It had effected me so much, that I had to undo the programming. Hard work, dedication, self love and hypnosis is the cure. Remember it’s not hypnosis that’s bad, rather then issues we see in our external reality reflect in the world of sexuality, paired with Remaining anonymous this leads to a slippery slope of people abusing people in the name of a nut. It’s a really lonely place to be... it takes your power away. Hypnosis can be erotic, but with it comes great responsibility, enjoy erotic hypnosis with actual people, not online files. The person on the other side of the screen could never care for you as good as you deserve. 💙 "
submitted by RealityIsRestless to conspiracy [link] [comments]
2020.10.22 13:55 ChristianWallis Secret sex sister
A/N - this was removed from NoSleep so I'm posting it here so if anyone else wants to read it they can. It didn't have a great reception, but hey, it's here if you want it.
I met her at school when we were just eight. A few years later, when I was 15, I asked her to be my girlfriend and we’ve been together ever since. It was a real highschool sweetheart situation. Sometimes when I tell people they say I’m lucky but that’s not true. Selina has had a troubled life in some ways and it comes through as an emotional distance and, yes, maybe even a physical distance. I’ve had to work, to fight, to get through to her. Our relationship, especially as adults, has been defined by my persistence in loving her. That isn’t to say she doesn’t love me. Of course she does. She always finds little ways to reach out to me and show me that. But when people say I’m lucky they’re wrong. I worked for this. I fought for it.
I’m owed it. Because where other guys would have turned away, or gotten fed up and bored, or even impatient, I never did. And in some ways looking after her has been the single most important job of my life. I don’t always know what she wants from me. It can be confusing. But when she has a hard day I’m there, watching her, looking out for her. I love her. I always have and I always will.
Love hurts. It’s not always clean. Selina has, at times, pushed me so far away I’ve felt like Pluto freezing on the outer edges of the solar system. But some orbits can’t be broken, no matter how hard she may try to hurt me, and herself by extension. And just like Pluto, my orbit is elliptical and while there are times I must love her from far away, I always come back. She doesn’t mistreat me, I suppose. She isn’t always faithful but you have to understand when you love someone like Selina, someone so easily swayed and manipulated by others, someone so prone to irrational outbursts and dangerous decisions, well that comes with a cost. Love isn’t defined by the physical though. I get that. It hurts to know she has strayed in the past but love is a cosmic force binding us together and it won’t get derailed by a couple of one-night stands, or even a few short-term boyfriends.
And like I said, she isn’t abusive. She isn’t exploiting me. There have been times I’ve drawn lines in the sand. We may not be physical yet, but I’m only human. Some part of our life must overlap, even if it’s small and insignificant. It’s not like I look at porn, is it? Why would I want to? Or need to? The cameras I installed were definitely a line I refused to compromise over. If she wouldn’t let me stay with her then I had to take some measure to make sure she was safe and, yes, also so that some effort was made to meet my needs. She kept taking them down, smashing them in her yard, screaming at the darkness in the hopes it would scare me off. But I kept replacing them and sure enough, with time she saw sense and left them well enough alone. She spent days tearing the house apart, but she eventually saw things from my perspective and stopped looking. She must know they’re still there, just in new places. And I’m a thoughtful guy. They’re very small cameras. Nothing to make her feel uncomfortable.
I wake up with her. I watch her while she sleeps. I keep her safe. I remember the day I stopped a burglar from breaking into her house. I called the police with an anonymous tip and I remember watching her speak with the policeman outside her door.
“A neighbour called,” he explained.
“A neighbour?” She asked, but she knew it wasn’t a neighbour. It was me. Was it really a coincidence that not long after that she stopped looking for the cameras? I think not. I think it demonstrated to her why I’m so necessary. She simply isn’t able to take care of herself otherwise.
She did, however, change the locks. Which isn’t exactly the kind of stupid shit I expect from her now and again. She probably thought she was helping but all it meant was I had to clamber up her gutter and risk life and limb to get a copy of her key. She wouldn’t have found it funny if she’d come home and the love of her life was left sprawled on a concrete patio, half my brains scattered over the dandelions and petunias. I’m proud to say that most of the time I keep my temper in check, but she really can get under my skin sometimes. I write to her, almost constantly, and no matter what she does I always make sure she gets it along with a few daily gifts. It doesn’t matter if I have to sticky-note my words to her work computer, get her friends to deliver my notes under pseudonyms, or even roll the damn things up and stuff them in her underwear drawer. I always make sure we have an open, honest connection. That’s what a relationship is built on, right? And I don’t think it’s fair that I have to do all this work to make my feelings known when she only has to speak into the darkness of her garden, knowing I’m out there watching, listening, keeping her safe.
Even when I borrow her stuff without permission, I look after it. I wash it after I’m done and I always replace it clean and folded on her doorstep. I mean, not when it’s the hair out of her drain but still, when it’s clear that she’d like it back, I take it back and always in perfect condition. Compared to some guys I’m a gentleman. Does she forget that I am still a man? That this distance comes with a price for me? Sometimes, in my angrier moments, my coldest loneliest and most shameful moments, I wonder if it would even matter if I just broke in there and took what I wanted. She’s thrown herself around a fair amount and here I am, acting like some doting knight with a binding code of chivalry and… well, would she even notice? She slept with four guys at university. Four! That’s just not right.
But I wouldn’t do that, not to her. It’s just an errant thought. That’s all. I wouldn’t do that. Even if I did it wouldn’t be the same because I know her so well I’d be able to infer the difference between an actual no and a fake no. But I still wouldn’t do it because, well, I shouldn’t have to take the first step. I have to admit though, sniffing underwear doesn’t always do it, you know? That’s why I made Little Selina. It’s not as weird as it sounds. I just collected stuff from her, old clothes, hair, bits of skin, bloodied fabric. It’s just stuff that represents her essence as a woman, all brought together and fitted onto a kind of mould or outline. Which, by the way, was not an easy purchase. Anatomically correct mannequins are more expensive than you might think.
It’s a failsafe, really. That’s what it is. I would never go full… I would never actually break into her house and… I mean, shit, I can’t even bring myself to say it. Point is, I’m a good guy. I’m a nice guy. I wouldn’t do that. But I’m still a guy! I do have urges. So I made Little Selina to be there for the times when the urges get a little tough to manage. This way there’s no risk of them building up and up until I break open and lose all common sense. I have Little Selina and she can just take the worst of it. Not just my desire but my anger as well. Maybe even my hatred. Because hatred can be a part of love too and I’ve given so much of myself to Selina and yet she has given so little back. It’s only natural that sometimes my mind sinks to a low and I feel an acid in my chest instead of a warm fuzzy light.
I guess you could call her the other woman. One day she will be put away. I explain this to her. One day Selina will outgrow her childish games and remember that she still has a boyfriend. She’ll stop asking me to do these ridiculous things just to stay close to her. And she’ll bring me close, put her head against my chest, and say that after all the years of work and commitment, I truly do deserve to be happy with her. And on that day, I’ll know that our love will be pure because all the impurities in my heart, my hatred, my bitterness, my sadness, and all my dark thoughts, will have been poured into the false Little Selina. She has absorbed it all over the few years I’ve had her, listening to me cry and talk and shout, watching me squat in front of a dozen screens while I gaze at the real Selina’s sleeping body.
One day I’ll lock Little Selina away, and all of this nonsense will go with her. The thought of it keeps me going. And yet, I keep adding to her, knowing that she isn’t real. It’s weird. Sometimes I don’t even know why. I guess it’s a labour of love, quite different to the one I do with the real Selina, but it’s done out of love anyway. Just the other day I used old nail glue to fix some of Selina’s clippings to the mannequin’s fingers. I painted them brick-red.
“I told her this colour would look good,” I said. And Little Selina looked back with empty vacant eyes. They’re green, like the real Selina’s, but fake and nasty, more like a lime green than a natural colour. Sometimes I cover her face because they remind of me plastic doll’s eyes. Like I said, Selina has done a number on me over the years and all my anger and love can get mixed up. I hate Little Selina, hate her bitterly, and I let her know at every opportunity. But I love her too, for taking that hatred. It needs to go somewhere. Otherwise it might make its way to the real thing and I could actually end up hurting Selina.
She’s probably my only friend. I know that’s sad. I learned a long time ago people don’t want to listen to me harp on about Selina all day, so Little Selina listens to me instead. I like to joke she’s always shocked by what I say, if you get what I mean. I tried getting one that was smiling but it cost extra. So she just sits there like some weird goldfish, her hair dripping over her clothes, reeking of ammonia and drain-cleaner and gym-socks that have the texture of playing cards. Those eyes look sad, or rather I think that they reflect my own sadness back at me. I see a yearning in there, a desperate aching longing for love and affection. It’s just a Freudian thing. I’m projecting my own thoughts onto an empty vessel.
Sometimes when I finish, I look at Little Selina and I want to be sick. The humiliation I put myself through just to keep the real Selina safe. Would any of those losers she dates do that? Who does she think tells them about us? I do. I always make sure they understand exactly how fragile Selina is, how much work and love it takes to keep her going. Without me they’d just stick around and use her for their own selfish desires, and by the time she realised she was being exploited, it’d be too late. They’d be moving in and just like that she’d have a fiancé she never wanted.
Thing is, all that work trying to hold off the inevitable, but it happened anyway. Most of these guys are idiots and a simple story about her having syphilis or falsely accusing men of rape is usually enough to get them running in the opposite direction. But sooner or later she was going to come across a real nasty piece of work, someone who recognised her for the jewelled flower that she is and wouldn’t let go until they stepped on her. I knew it and no amount of warnings ever got through to her. I don’t know who, but one of her mistakes has taken a strong liking to Selina and I can’t quite shake him.
He's a freak, and what pisses me off is that Selina keeps mixing up the things we do. There are a million little things I do for her and they really are all for her. I replace her out-of-date milk, grind fresh coffee, bring the washing in when it rains, all this and more. It’s how I feel close to her given our unique circumstances. But this guy is something else. He’s all rage, slashing up her clothes, breaking mirrors, flooding her bathroom. And for some reason she thinks it’s me. Why the hell would I do that? I wouldn’t tear her belongings to pieces. I always look after her stuff.
But this new guy, this stalker, this freak… Well, he creeps me out. First time I saw him I was in my usual tree, camped out in the dark while I waited for Selina to come home from a late-shift at the hospital. I didn’t have my binoculars out, but signs of movement in one of her windows made me grab them and take a closer look. It was only a shadow, or rather a shape that caught the moonlight, but it was clear that someone was in the house. When I looked, all I saw was a shambling, bloated thing with ragged hair at shoulder length. He was wearing some of her clothes! How funny is that? I’ve heard of stalkers who like to look like their victims, crossdressers overcome with rage and confusion. But this was a pretty laughable effort if that’s what he was trying to do.
It scared me though, I won’t lie, and I froze in place. I wondered if I should call the police, warn Selina directly, or run in and confront him. I’ve challenged some pretty big guys in the past, not just boyfriends either, but bouncers, security guards, and on one occasion even a policeman. Thugs, the lot of them. But I scared them off. And yet, this shadow, this thing that dragged its feet along the floor, it scared me on a deep almost-childish level. He just gave off psycho vibes and there was something inhuman about the way he kept walking in circles. He did that for hours until, at last, he shambled out of the house and into the garden.
He stood and scanned the trees. And while I couldn’t see his face, I could feel his eyes passing over my hiding spot and it made my skin crawl. Without realising it, I held my breath and I prayed and prayed he’d just go away. The fear and anxiety that I’d gotten so good at overcoming, it paralysed me. Icy needles pricked my scalp and my whole autonomous nervous system just started screaming like an air-raid siren. I pissed myself. I shouldn’t say it, but I did. A warm trickle of urine ran down my leg and started to drip onto the grass below and somehow this guy, he just started sniffing at the air. He was all the way on the other end of the garden, but I swear to God he smelled it and he made a beeline right towards the tree I was hiding in.
Christ if I was scared before, the sight of him coming towards me was enough to nearly kill me stone-dead. All I could do was stay still—dead still—in the hope that somehow it was enough to hide. I was cloaked in darkness wasn’t I? That spot was chosen because it was all but impossible to spot me unless…
Unless you were right below it. And that’s where this guy was headed. I tried to think of an escape plan, or some way of fighting back. But I could barely string a few thoughts together before that damn air-raid siren in my head sent all the words and ideas scattering like birds on a bell-tower. I felt so damn helpless I started to cry and had to choke back any audible sobs. I didn’t know a person could feel that much fear and still live to talk about it. He just kept coming, closer and closer, like a nightmare. And before I knew it, he was down on his knees right beneath me, sniffing and snorting at the floor, right where my piss had formed a puddle. The creep was lapping it up like some kind of dog, grunting and groaning in a weird shrill voice. At that moment, Selina came home and her car lit the lawn up in a stark amber glow. She didn’t notice this freak crouched down in her yard, but it was enough to frighten him and send him scuttling into the woods behind me. I nearly climbed down and ran towards her, but I also remembered that she keeps a taser in her glovebox and I stopped myself.
This is what I’ve been trying to tell Selina - this guy is incredibly dangerous. And it worries me she doesn’t take him seriously. He knows enough to turn my cameras off, and the tech support guys are useless. They say you can’t turn them off from the transmitting end, only the receiving end. And yet the cameras are clearly being turned off and then back on. And it’s not like I’m bloody doing it is it? He’s figured out a way to control them from within Selina’s house and that worries me because it means he knows where they are. Can you believe the tech guys suggested changing the locks on my door?
Sometimes it feels like this new guy is eating away at the very logic of my world. I’m tired. I know I am. Some nights I come back to find I’ve cooked myself food and forgotten about it, or made the bed, or even changed Little Selina’s clothes. Sometimes I don’t even remember dressing her. I’m wearing myself down and what’s worse is that he’s responsible. He’s an invader in my peaceful world and I hate him.
I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to get rid of the competition, trying to scare me away. That’s why he’s started trashing my stuff too, leaving notes in my hiding spots that ask over and over,
“Why her? Why her!?” like he can make me start to doubt my love. He’s driving a wedge between us and what’s worse is it’s working. He even broke into my flat and stole Little Selina. Can you imagine that? The fucking creep. At first I thought he did it just for his own amusement but shortly afterwards Selina moved in with her sister for a few nights. I’m worried he showed her my tribute. I’m not stupid. I know it would be too much for most women, even Selina. That doll is my secret little shame. But that’s normal, really, isn’t it? No one wants their masturbatory aids being aired out in the open.
I want her back though. It was a step too far to break into my home and whatever else he did drove Selina away for far too long. Her sister has two Great Danes so it’s a little harder to keep an eye on her, not to mention there aren’t nearly as many windows. I don’t know what I would have done if she didn’t come back. Seeing her lying there right now, her body still in the darkness, her hair freshly wet from a shower… The cameras have always been my most important means of connecting with her. It means so much to see her.
She has been sleeping for a while though. I guess she’s been through a lot, especially if she really did see Little Selina and had her mind warped by that twisted bastard of a man, not to mention her sister who does not like me. Truth be told, from this angle, she’s looking a little worse for wear. If I hadn’t watched her climb into bed I could have mistaken her for the sex doll! Of course, that’s just a joke. Selina, the real Selina, is just something else, a radiant beauty akin to the glow of the sun. I love her so much it hurts. That yearning, that desire, it’s burning a hole in my chest. And she looks so fragile lying there…
I shouldn’t have made that joke about the doll. It was crass. I’m just hurting, that’s all. I’m tired and I’m hurting on the inside.
You know what? I’m going to take my own advice. Open, honest communication is key. Last time I tried speaking to her she tased me, but maybe this time things will be easier. Besides, her car isn’t in the driveway so she probably left the taser behind at her sister’s. That’d be lucky because I’m really going to do it. I’m going to talk to her. Maybe it’s not seeing her for a few nights, maybe it’s not having Little Selina to vent into, but I really need to talk to her in person. I need to explain all that’s been going on. It’s this new guy who’s breaking her stuff, smashing windows, leaving threatening notes, not me! I love her. I protect her. After all, she’s mine and no one else’s.
Hopefully this all works out.
Why not me?
My hair is the same. My smell is the same. He chose me, bought me. Why am I not good enough?
No more Big Selina for him. He will love me. He will care for me. Not her. Me. I will always be perfect, just for him, just as he wanted. I already have all I need from Big Selina. I will be everything he needs. No more internet posts. No more questions. No more anger. No more skulking in the dark. No more cameras. We can lie here together, forever.
I have such nice skin, such good skin. I made sure to dry it first. My beauty… it’s so magnificent. The first time I touched him, it brought tears to his eyes. So many tears.
He is still crying.
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2020.10.22 03:57 PunchaCow Secret sister sex
A few months ago, after being quarantined in a new apartment by myself for online school for a couple months, I (AFAB) was casually thinking about my gender when the common thought crossed my mind: “if life was like a video game and I could customize my gender with the push of a button, I’d probably choose to have a male body.” And then it hit me: that can’t be normal. Not for cis people, at least. That day was the start of a continuing spiral that has caused me to constantly question and think about my gender, to the point where it’s almost always in the back of my mind if I’m not actively pondering it.
I want to talk about it so badly, but I don’t know how to bring it up or even what to say. Talking about my feelings is how I experience them and work through them. I keep no secrets from my family. But now I feel like this is something I should keep to myself. Idk why; my sister and my cousin (who lives with my direct family) are extremely progressive, and both my parents are a bit behind the times and judgmental but still accepting and not particularly transphobic. I want to tell them what I’m feeling, but for once my brain is telling me to save it for therapy.
A couple days ago I think I finally might’ve had a breakthrough on my process towards figuring out exactly what I am. I’m still not sure, but this seems like the closest I’ve been so far. I was laying in bed, thinking about my gender like I’ve been doing a lot lately, and the thought crossed my mind, “I’m just both.” And then it hit me — I might be both.
So gender-wise, I think I’m both a man and a woman. Like both at the same time (and maybe with a little bit of a third gender mixed in that I can’t quite identify). I feel like I’m leaning feminine, but not particularly strongly either way. But I do think I experience both binaries at least a little bit. I did some research and I think this is called bigender.
Sexually, however, I also feel like I’m both, but (at least right now) I genuinely feel like I’m more male than female. The thing is, because I’m not extremely uncomfortable with my female body, there’s really nothing I can do about it.
This seems to be the closest thing to the truth that I’ve felt. I don’t see any problems with this conclusion. I’m really starting to feel like this might be me. But at the same time, I’m still a bit disappointed, because I probably won’t ever be able to fully embrace my masculine sexuality. I don’t hate my feminine body or desire a masculine body enough to put myself through a sex change. Because my GENDER is leaning feminine, there’s not much I can do about that or my sex. And even if I did want one, I highly doubt that any doctors would be willing to do it, anyway. It sucks, but I just don’t see a solution. I think I’m just gonna have to live with it.
It would explain a lot, why I’m suddenly having this but at the same time for my whole life I was okay with being female. It’s cause I AM female, but now I feel like something else is missing. But idk if it’s a big enough problem to really exert a lot of effort towards.
I don’t like WISH I had dysphoria. Nobody does. But part of me is just a little disappointed that I don’t. I know that’s horrible, and doesn’t make sense. Like how privileged could I possibly be to be even a little disappointed about that. I already have depression, and that’s bad enough as is. I’m already faced with horrible, self-degrading intrusive thoughts on a daily basis, especially when I’m home alone, and the feelings that go with that feel horrible. I’ve heard so many experiences from people with dysphoria and it sounds terrible. I know that it is. I can see how painful it is.
So don’t get me wrong, I don’t wish I had it. But if I did, then I could at least know for sure that I was a man (at least physically). Then I could really know what I was, and have a reason to transition, a stronger desire. Does that, by itself, mean I’m trans? Lately, I have been kind of wanting to. I imagine myself as an enby with a twinkish male body and feel sad that I could never be that way. Honestly, I just want someone to tell me that I can transition, and then knowing I had the option, I could decide from there if that’s what I really wanted. If I could press a button and change immediately, I would. But having to deal with the whole process, with the imperfect body I’ll have as a result, with transphobia, with all the self-doubt and regrets I could (and almost definitely would) end up with… it’s terrifying to think about. Plus I’ve gotten used to being a straight female in the dating scene. But despite all that, part of me wishes I was trans, that I could be what I like to imagine myself as. But I might never know if that’s me.
Thanks for listening to my vent. If anybody has any advice, I’d really appreciate it.
•TL;DR•: I think I might be bigender, but my gender leaning feminine and my sex leaning masculine. I don’t have dysphoria though, so even if I wanted a sex change, I don’t think I could get it / would be stopped in place by my self-doubts. So it sucks that, because I’m both male and female (or at least that’s what I think right now — I’m still not sure), and my gender is more femme than masc, I can probably never know what it’s like to have the body I desire.
P.S. my name’s Freddy. Still battling myself on pronouns, but I guess I’ll say they/them for the purposes of this post.
submitted by PunchaCow to trans [link] [comments]
2020.10.21 20:06 SabatonBabylon Secret sex sister
Book 1 of The HEL Jumper
Book 2 of The HEL Jumper
Previous | First | Patreon
Thanks to Big_Papa_Dakky, Darth_Android, bloblob, AMERICUH, The_Real_Jumper, Mr_Polygon, Krystalin, Damned_Thrice, Mamish, Vikairious, Sam_Berry, RedHawkdude, KillTech, LilLaussa, Daddy_Talon, Gruecifer, Gaelan_Darkwater, Konrahd_Verdammt, red-shirt, DaPorkchop, Benjamin Durbin, Siddabear, and everyone supporting me on patreon.
“Where are we going, darling?” Veera asked quietly as they were transported at ‘pregnant female’ speed through the Event Horizon’s tube network to the hangar that would serve as the departure point for them and Thantis back to the village courtesy of Cromwell. Natalya had already returned to her fellows at the Forge.
“Well, if I had my way about it we’d go to the drop pod bay,” he began, holding her hand and brushing her with his thumb. She could feel him shaking. “I doubt the Admiral would appreciate it, but it would be a nice, quick, private ride back to the surface. Problem is it was made for people like me, not pregnant women.”
“Russell, I don’t like the idea of you suddenly treating me differently!” Veera complained. He glanced over at her as the pod came to a stop and the top lifted away to allow them out. He went first and then offered her his hand.
“I’ll try not to, but there’s no way that sort of thing would be safe for the little ones. Maybe after you give birth,” he suggested, feeling his throat tighten. He exhaled heavily and wiped his brow. “Life… is going to be different. Let’s just get home?”
“Yes, please,” Veera agreed. It was difficult to cling to him, to try and guess at the true source of his rigid demeanor and nerves while at the same time receiving much needed support from her Jumper. He said he believed her, and she believed him, but there was much to discuss privately that hung over them like a toppling tree or perhaps a hulking ursae. Without the Event Horizon she would have never known she’d been granted cubs, and yet it was the last place she wanted to be at that moment. When they boarded the shuttle they found Thantis waiting for them.
“Veera, you are well?” he asked quietly.
“I am healthy, Thantis. Yvonne seems to think so too.”
The nature of her reply was not lost on him. “Gentia and I will be here if you need us, Veera. And you, Russell.”
“I know,” the Jumper said quietly before looking over and resting a hand gently on Thantis’ frail shoulder. “What I meant was thank you, Thantis. It means a lot.”
“Even were it not my duty, it would be my pleasure. But I will allow sleeping hyrven to lay, so to speak. I daresay Fenrir is quite the approachable ball of fur when he’s feeling lazy. It is… I see miracles all around us these days; I cannot help but remark upon the Balance.”
“What do you mean, Thantis?” Veera asked as the shuttle kicked off gently and headed for Mara. Cromwell was taking it slowly, surprised to have received a message from Winters that she was again transporting a pregnant Cauthan. Her communication with her passengers consisted only of mandated advisories to fasten restraints. Thantis gathered his thoughts as he loosened the grip on his cane, momentarily surprised by the vertical acceleration.
“Spirit Io informed me that tomorrow marks the day you arrived on our world, Russell. To think of all that you have done in that time since you donned the mantle of Kel’s avatar, and to now contemplate both loss and gain, death and life. Such a moment is tumultuous, but I hope and pray the two of you will find peace in it somehow. I will be there tomorrow, if you would like.”
“I would, Thantis,” Russell affirmed, staring at the wall of the shuttle while holding Veera’s right hand tightly in his left. His somber, distant tone was plenty indication that despite his genuine thanks, he was in no mood to discuss much of anything with anyone other than Veera. The elder hummed quietly and settled in to enjoy the ride instead, a poignant but not uncomfortable silence their companion until the shuttle touched down just outside the gates. They were opened immediately, the guards letting Veera and Russell pass without a word. No one felt like confronting either of them given the strange looks on their faces. Whatever had happened during their time away, not even Staroth was foolish enough to prod at that moment. He did hail Thantis, however.
“My friend, you have returned safely! If it’s all the same to you I believe I should escort you to Gentia. I would not want to be the one who decided to let you wander around upon your return,” he joked. Thantis shared a laugh with him.
“I would appreciate that, Staroth. There is a matter I must bring to her attention at once, so your offer is most welcome.” At the elder’s words, Staroth signaled to the other guards on duty and waved a courteous farewell to Pilot Cromwell who was taking note of several messages and requests for supplies from Alice and Lachlan, archived during the Event Horizon’s departure. None of them involved the transport of anything back to the ship so she shrugged, removed her helmet, did a few stretches against the hull of her shuttle while Seil warmed her face, and then departed the planet.
Safe within their home as the noise of the shuttle faded, Veera and Russell were finally given a chance to process reality alone. Io, projected from his wrist, remained silent as they embraced one another and touched their foreheads together. Veera’s eyes were soon running freely.
“I know,” Russell assured her, stroking her feathers.
“Do you?” she replied, her voice high pitched as she tried to control her diaphragm. It was a draw at best. He nodded, brushing his nose against hers.
“Yeah, I do. How long have we been together?”
“Since the harvest festival, you big, stupid, noble human!” Veera insisted, Russell chuckled in spite of himself, willing his own bubbling emotions to remain below the surface for the time being. Veera’s understanding that she was going to be a mother came first.
“Yeah, so three seasons, almost four. You don’t think in that time I’ve learned what you look like when you feel guilty? I remember when you admitted to pointing my rifle at Ratha, when you ‘accidentally’ licked one of Io’s batteries, and of course when you brought this bundle of fluff home,” Russell enumerated, petting Fenrir on the head as the hyrven did his best to politely but insistently intrude on what appeared to be a very comfortable moment between his ‘parents’. The hyrven had been returned to the village courtesy of Natalya, along with their personal effects and gear on Mendes’ orders once he learned they would not be returning to the forge. Russell continued. “Point is, Veera, if you’d gone behind my back and mated with a Cauthan so you could have cubs, I know what your feathers would have been doing, how your voice would change, how your eyes would look down and then up and around me. Secrets in this village don’t remain secret for long. I believe you.”
The human closed his eyes and hugged her tighter as Veera cried loudly into his shoulder, his clothing muffling some of the sound. Their neighbors had never made a scene over rather loud or amorous evenings, and he hoped that day would be the same, especially with most Cauthan out at work. Io nodded repeatedly. ‘Three cheers for aliens who find it difficult to lie on account of their plumage,’ she jested happily.
“Ok, I’ll give you that one but please, Io,” Winters requested, leading Veera to their bed. Fenrir hopped up first, anticipating scritches, as Alice’s rapping at the door interrupted them.
“Rusty? Are you guys back? Why didn’t you say anything? I-”
“Not a good time! Out!” Russell commanded, pointing at her the moment she poked her head past the door flap. To her credit, Alice skedaddled immediately, shaking her head as she headed back down the road from whence she’d come.
“Geez, he hasn’t used that tone since we were in high school and I walked in on… no, let’s not ruin a beautiful morning with that memory Alice,” she scolded herself, turning right to head for the center of town instead. “Guess I’ll go check in on Thantis. I wonder if Natori actually thought I’d believe him when he said nothing went wrong during the mining mission?”
Back in Veera’s abode, the Cauthan dried her eyes on her mate’s clothing and took a deep breath, thanking him as he passed her his canteen. “You didn’t have to yell at her like that.”
“I’ll apologize to her later. I’d rather talk about… everything?” Russell suggested, not knowing where to start. “I wasn’t really expecting I’d be a dad after, you know. So wait, did you even have a heat this season?!”
“I… you just always get so into it,” Veera murmured, tracing nervous lines on his leg with a claw as they leaned against one another. “Maybe it was a bit of both? Sorry?”
“I’m not,” Russell confirmed immediately. “Kids aside, heat sex is hot as hell.”
‘I’m writing that one down for when you’re actually a dad,’ Io remarked drolly.
“Not appropriate for the cubs, Io. I’m sure you have a litany of sex and profanity free dad jokes somewhere in there?” Russell suggested before returning his attention to his wife. “Veera, what are we going to do?”
“You ask me that like I should know,” she replied sadly, looking around their home. “If I’m pregnant, really, I’ll never say a bad word about Meylith as long as I live.”
“She really came through in the clutch, didn’t she?” Russell agreed, ruminating on Io’s suggestion that Veera’s twins were not the result of marital infidelity, but her own body instead. He could barely pronounce the word, much less understand the finer points. “Who would have thought?”
“You don’t really sound like you believe it…” Veera murmured. He looked down to find her looking somewhere around his belly button, getting a view of her feathers instead. It hurt that she was hurting, but he knew he couldn’t fake the tone of voice he wanted to show her. He rubbed his neck and sighed in frustration.
“It’s not like that, Veera. I just… if what we think happened to you happened on Earth, if I had a human wife who suddenly became pregnant despite the two of us knowing it would ‘never happen’; let’s just say that if I chose to believe it was a miracle everyone would know I’m a sucker. We don’t believe in many miracles these days.”
“You know there’s a law for adultery in the village, right?” Veera wondered.
‘There is?’ Io demanded, sitting bolt upright. Russell did the same.
“The male chooses the punishment,” the Cauthan continued. “If he can prove his mate broke her vow, her life and the cub’s life-”
“Just stop, Veera. Please,” Russell commanded sternly but softly. “This is difficult, but that’s my problem. Io is right, you’re not human. You’re Cauthan and I don’t know what your body can and cannot do. We know the children will not be mine. But if they are all you, they might as well be mine. This is supposed to be a time when I hold you, make you hot beverages, rub your feet, and we sit around for nine months… a year, I guess, thinking comfortable thoughts about the family we planned to have for months or years. A long time ago you asked me if I ever wanted children. That was the first time I ever even considered the question honestly. Saying yes, I think it was just to affirm I didn’t want to die and have things just end. I wanted something left of me when I’m gone. But even then it was something far off, something not real. Then we mated. I was happier than I can ever remember being, still am, but I thought that issue was just gone. I thought you and I would figure something else out if being remembered wasn’t enough. Now?” He rested a hand over her stomach. “I guess the gods had other ideas for us.”
“I’m sorry. I just want this so badly!” Veera squeaked. Russell smushed her body against his, feeling her summer coat anywhere his skin was exposed.
“That’s the last time you apologize for this. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispered eagerly, curling her legs under her body. “I never had a brother or sister. I miss my mother and father. I know I can never replace them, but I will always want a family. I was so happy learning I had Alice and now? I want to cry and scream and laugh and cry and- I said cry already. I want to shove it in Ratha’s face that I’m going to have twins. Twins! And I want to tell everyone they belong to you because they do, they really do.”
“I… ok, this is happening I guess,” Russell stated, watching as the world swam and he felt the waterworks activating. He shook his head and blinked his eyes, but overcoming the emotions spawned by Veera’s insistence that everyone know he was the father of her children was not so easily done. “I’m going to cry and we’re going to have cubs. Yeah, that’s happening.”
"That's alright, I've already started," Veera laughed, still in disbelief. "I don't know what to do. What do we do? Should I build a fire? Am I going to have to stop being a guard?"
"I think I'd feel better if you stuck to easy patrols, but staying active is probably a good idea?" Russell wagered. "I know you aren't too far along but if you managed to not know this whole time, I'd say keep doing what you're doing. That being said, I know jack and squat about pregnancy, human or otherwise."
"Every day I don't need to head to the outhouse five times or throw up will be a good day as far as I'm concerned," Veera insisted, setting the bar rather low. Russell huffed a laugh, rubbing her shoulder.
"Asha has it pretty hard? I still can’t believe she wants seven."
"You are not to tell her I said so," Veera declared before quieting and refocusing on the more pertinent issue. "But Russell, what are we going to do?"
"Define do?" he requested hesitantly. She poked him just hard enough for him to feel it through his clothing.
“By do, I mean unless Io and Yvonne are wrong, which I’m not sure is a chance either of us would be wise in taking, what do we do when in less than a year there will be two little balls of fluff joining us in here, all the time!”
“Ah, I hold one and you hold the other?” Winters suggested with a shrug, his attempt at humor making some small amount of headway. It at least earned him a crook of Veera’s lip before she was all business again.
“Seriously Russell, we’re going to be parents in less than a year and I have no idea how to be a mother,” she explained, scratching her brow just above her eyes and standing to pace the room slowly. He remained seated and watched her, remarking how odd and surreal it all was. She looked no different than any other morning.
“Well if it makes you feel any better,” he began before trailing off, she looked curiously at him, swishing her tail slowly as she often did while they were conversing.
“I was going to say I have no idea how to be a father but that’s… that’s not really true. Gods, never thought I’d miss him of all people, but here we are. Is it odd that he’s the first one I thought of instead of my mother, in terms of what sort of advice they might give us?” he wondered as Veera returned to his lap.
“The man who made breakfast for you and your siblings, who placed you in your people’s armed forces and watched over you all that time? I think you’re odd for thinking it’s odd, silly. I would very much like to meet him sometime, but sadly we’re very far away,” she acknowledged, placing a comforting kiss on his cheek. “You’re a little scratchy, my dear.”
“I’ll handle that soon. For now though, if you’re ready to face the world again, I can think of a certain someone who might have advice for us regarding the raising of little fluff balls,” Russell said, the wooden bedframe creaking quietly as their weight shifted atop it.
“They will have claws and teeth too,” Veera reminded him, wondering if she would ever be able to eat again for how twisted into knots her stomach felt. Butterflies didn’t begin to cover it. Her worries eased slightly as her husband smiled at her, the first genuine smile since their world had been upended in the Event Horizon’s civilian medical wing.
“Yeah well, their dad is going to have an Aegis. Let’s see them get through that,” he challenged their future offspring.
“I am sure Io will show them the answer somehow.”
“Yeah, probably,” Winters agreed, fetching their cloaks. “You ready?”
“I am. If anyone should know other than us, it’s Gentia and then Alice. She is family. We cannot keep this from her.”
“Agreed, let’s just make sure we’re a safe distance from the village when we do… pretty sure she’ll spontaneously combust when she hears she’s going to be an aunt,” Russell ribbed his sister with a chuckle. “Io, you coming along?”
“Io?” Veera called out after only silence greeted them. Russell immediately pinged his armor with his visor, receiving all green in terms of her hardware.
“Huh, looks like she checked out for a moment. Must be important. We’ll catch up with her when she’s back, yeah? All her ‘bodies’, so to speak, are in good condition.”
“That’s a relief. Shall we?” Veera asked. He offered her his arm and she took it happily. An old Jumper adage came to mind as they stepped into the sun-baked streets.
“Yeah, not like waiting or running is going to do us any good. Time to dive in.”
“Io, I am surprised to find you here!” Natori called out, pushing himself on a swivel chair over the level, seamless floors of manufactory number one. It was a perfect environment for such shenanigans, minus the incredibly complex biomechanical body being constructed in the middle of it. With its skeleton, musculature, and significant portions of the dermis completed, Io was able to not only turn to face him, but also shoot him a very angry look, furrowing her metallic ‘under eyebrows’ as her facial skin was not yet complete.
‘First Lieutenant Winters somehow managed to knock up his alien wife!’ she shouted, causing Natori to crash from his chair in an extravagant spill. He rolled over a couple times before coming to a stop nearby, his ‘mount’ clattering to a halt a few feet further on. Five metal fingers attached to an intricate palm of metal; a strong, sturdy scaffold for all manner of sensors, chips, and tubes, reached out to him. ‘If you are injured I will apologize,’ she said without moving her jaw. ‘But otherwise I intend to enjoy that bit of slapstick to its fullest.’
“Still working out the trachea?” Natori guessed, accepting her help in standing before dusting himself off. “Now, that was a joke, yes?”
Io’s vocal cords may have been non-functional, but the combination of lenses, cameras, and other technology she’d used for her eyes was more than capable of conveying a bevy of emotions ranging from happiness for her friends to despair. ‘Do I look like I’m joking, Natori?’
“I will do my best not to rely on humanity’s history of film in my answer, but you look like something out of a dark fantasy, perhaps an artist’s macabre half-dreams of humanity’s future? Were it not for the sake of privacy I’d ask you to model for a photograph or two.”
‘You… you!’ Io seethed, throwing her hands above her head before walking over to a wall and punching it, albeit softly. Natori stood bolt upright as she yelped in pain before suddenly cutting all motion on her chassis. ‘Me… me! Damn it all that hurt so much! That couldn’t be right. There’s no way that’s right! I almost forgot I’m mad at you!’
Natori held his hands up as Io restored her connection and rounded on him, flexing and curling her fingers. She continued with evident sarcasm. ‘I just can’t wait to calibrate temperature extremes if that’s what blunt force trauma feels like. Now you, stop fetishizing me! Veera is pregnant with twins and when they are born I am ninety seven point two six percent confident they will not possess genetic material from any Cauthan male!’
Natori’s arms fell slack as he looked around the manufactory. “Why do I have to choose?” he wondered, as though being told by his mother that there would be only one scoop of ice cream for dessert. The virginal Cauthan birth and digital cyborg babe combo was off the menu.
‘Because I don’t want people seeing me like this!’ Io explained as though it were obvious. ‘How about I flay your skin from your bones and photograph your half exposed skeleton for the entertainment of the other AI’s?’
“The what?!” Natori shouted in distress. Io hung her head.
‘It’s a joke, Natori… a very bad joke. I’m tired,’ the sole known AI acknowledged, sitting on the floor and bringing her knees to her chest. She sighed dejectedly. ‘At least the padding on my butt is sufficient to cushion my skeleton against a metal surface.’
Natori walked slowly to her side and knelt next to her. “What’s wrong, Io? Clearly there isn’t a deficiency with the silicone pump on your ass.”
‘Oh you are just so funny, Natori. As you can tell I engineered well past that. I am torn between happiness and love for my best friends and the dejection of seeing them move one step farther away from me.’
“Io, Lieutenant Winters and Veera do not seem the type of people to cast you aside even for their own children, assuming what you’ve told me is correct.”
‘It is correct, but Veera is a civilian so you don’t get to see her ultrasounds and bloodwork. And I’m not worried about that. I’m annoyed with myself. I lied to myself. As long as Veera can’t have children, she’s just like me, right? Well there goes that idea! I don’t suppose you looked into artificial wombs while you were playing around with Juggernauts on Udanis IV, did you?’
“You wish to have children?” Natori whispered, as though the words themselves would bring God’s wrath upon them. She turned her metal skull his way.
‘Of course not. It sounds awful, and I would never put a life at risk like that to satisfy my own selfishness. I am just moping around and being sad because Veera and Russell deserve happiness and congratulations only.’
Natori stood and offered her his hand instead, getting a feel for Io’s weight as she accepted. He would not have been able to tell the difference between her and a relatively light female colleague. “Although I am Admiral of this vessel I acknowledge that what I’m doing may constitute speaking out of turn, or saying things that shouldn’t be said. Earlier we discussed various elements of human existence that you eschewed because they were inconvenient. I specifically recall female hormonal cycles coming up? Io, you cannot only choose to experience the good of human existence. Living as a sac of flesh and bone is as wonderful as it is harrowing. It is stressful, it is painful, and it is rewarding. Perhaps you should determine exactly what it is about human existence that fascinates you so, and focus on that? Your body will aid you in that quest, but it will not be sufficient. In many ways I think you have already succeeded. Consider my words, if you would?”
‘I already have,’ Io replied, allowing a bit of pride to seep into her voice. ‘They are wise, but you consider yourself very important.’
“Ah yes, yes I do,” Natori insisted, pointing at proof of his admiralty on his uniform. “But in this matter I consider myself only a friend, Io. And while the ethics and physics of an artificial womb may be forever beyond your reach, I daresay you’re a few calibrations and pieces of skin away from holding Veera’s children in your arms. When I consider how many millions or billions of humans throughout history never experienced such a thing themselves…”
‘I understand, Natori,’ Io assured him, composing herself and returning her body to its chassis where the light of its eyes faded and work continued apace. Sparks flew as she tended to her fingerbones and hailed the Admiral via the ship’s communication network instead. ‘As always, I thank you for being an ear in times of need. Russell and Veera are overwhelmed, and I did not want to trouble them with my own concerns right now.’
“You are an excellent friend, Io. Would you accept one final word of advice from this self-important admiral?” Kaczynski asked with a smile.
‘I will listen, of course. That does not mean I will accept,’ Io explained, keeping humor in her voice. He nodded.
“Your friends will appreciate not just your congratulations, but your presence at this time. Go to them,” he insisted. Around him the lights in the manufactory dimmed and eventually turned off save for a few safety lights that would lead him back to the control panel.
‘That order is one I’m happy to obey. Farewell for now, Admiral.’
When Io returned to the surface, she found Winters not with Veera or in his abode, but instead with Thantis, Xan, Fenrir, and Alice in the temple of Kel. She projected herself from his wrist armor and greeted them all. ‘Sir, I hate to interrupt but where is Veera?’ she asked urgently. He held up a hand for calm.
“She’s with Gentia right now, don’t worry. Alice and I both had the same idea, apparently, and it seems Thantis is more than fine after his little asteroid mining mission.”
“Can you believe Natori actually let him operate a mining laser?!” Alice interjected.
“Yes,” came the reply from Io, Russell, and Xan all at once. They shared a laugh as Thantis dispensed tea to them all.
“And I will be eternally grateful for the opportunity,” he said, taking a seat and cupping his own wooden mug between his paws. “Xan may not agree with me, but there is both peace and serenity in Kel’s domain. It is not warm, but I would not call it unwelcoming, either.”
“You wouldn’t be the first to describe it that way,” Russell affirmed, noticing how agitated his sister looked, shifting constantly in her seat and always looking at him. “And yeah, I guess I might as well tell you all. Now that Gentia knows I don’t think it’ll take long.”
“Knows what, Russell? What happened while you were gone!?” Alice leapt at the opportunity, sitting back down as her brother made a ‘calm down’ motion with his hand. The Jumper took a deep breath before smiling at her.
“Sorry for snapping at you earlier. Veera’s pregnant with twins.”
Io devolved into uproarious laughter as both Thantis and Xan sprayed their mouthfuls of tea all over the floor of the temple. To see Xan riled up was not uncommon, but to get such a rise out of Thantis himself was truly an accomplishment, especially since the elder knew already. The AI considered he might actually have used the opportunity to engage in such childishness on purpose.
Fenrir, feeling the uncomfortable spray on his ears, growled softly and padded back into Thantis’ private quarters, claiming the shady area for himself on yet another hot day. Alice, meanwhile, looked horrified.
“Oh my God, Rusty. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hand over her mouth. To her surprise her brother just shrugged his shoulders and looked at Io.
“You want to take this one? Where did you run off to by the way?”
‘There was a small issue that needed to be attended to on the Event Horizon, sir. But all is well in orbit and so I would be happy to explain to our dearest science lady why the probability that Veera’s children belong to a Cauthan male are less than three percent by my estimations.’
“Io, there’s no way Rusty could have-”
‘Ah ah ah!’ Io tisked, brandishing a pointer at Alice as she donned her lab coat and consulted her favorite clipboard. ‘I never said that they were Russell’s cubs either, though that would certainly be closer to the truth than adultery, in my opinion.’
“I am torn between making more tea and remaining right where I am,” Thantis stated as Xan looked around the room cautiously.
“Yeah, I’m fine where I am. Anything I could say right now would probably get my ass beaten,” the former guardsman admitted. Russell laughed.
“Hey look, you’re learning!”
“You’re making me reconsider,” Xan taunted, only to be shushed by a suddenly authoritative Alice.
“If the two of you are done having locker room time I would like to hear about how Veera supposedly got knocked up with twins without cheating on my brother thank you very much!”
Thantis glanced quietly at his apprentice, conveying a ‘told you so’ message while Io launched into a repetition of her parthenogenesis theory. Though she was not technically a biologist, Alice quickly latched onto the line of reasoning. “So you believe Cauthan are capable of asexual reproduction?”
“Uh, what?” Xan asked of Thantis. The elder could only shrug as Io shook her head.
‘No, Alice. I think we would know if Cauthan females began spontaneously popping out cubs on the regular. I am proposing something demonstrated by several species on Earth, where if conditions are right their bodies will undergo various unusual processes to ensure offspring in typically sexually reproducing species. A few fish and lizards can switch genders at will, but I’m sure the Lieutenant can confirm for us that Veera remains very much a female.’
“No comment, but yes,” Russell snorted.
‘Indeed. Instead I am proposing that under very specific circumstances which remain unknown, Cauthan females, or perhaps only females of Veera’s mother’s tribe, are capable of bearing cubs without viable male genetic material. Without another datapoint I can only guess at what those conditions would be. Veera has gone through a period of protracted starvation followed by a glut of resources. Her body has been… stimulated repeatedly both physically and chemically via intercourse with no typical resolution since then.’
“You can say sex, you know?” Xan cut in despite looking most uncomfortable. Io rounded dramatically on him.
‘I am a scientist and I will say intercourse you fluffy heathen!’
“Ignore him. He doesn’t appreciate women of learning,” Alice teased. “I don’t really know what to say about the theory in general but uh… geez, I don’t know how to say this without sounding like an ass, but are you guys sure this isn’t just wishful thinking?”
‘Veera has been accompanied by HEL tech for the majority of the last year on this planet, and has been with Russell, often outside the confines of the village, for both of her recent heats. We are dealing with alien physiology, my dear Alice. For now I prefer to hope. When the cubs are born I believe it will be quite obvious whether we are correct or incorrect.’
“I guess you would have to wait that long, wouldn’t you? Even if the cubs’ xDNA managed to get into Veera’s bloodstream like we use for human paternity tests… damn I lost my train of thought,” Alice complained, running a frustrated hand through her hair as a cart laden with produce squeaked by outside, having just entered the village from the east gate. Io helped fill in the gaps.
‘Your reasoning is decent, Alice. It might be possible, it might not. If they are her clones we wouldn’t know if we are seeing just Veera’s xDNA or hers and her cubs. If they are recombinations, unless things are weighted very heavily in one way or the other it will be the same result. In the end the decision will be up to your brother and Veera.’
“I think it’s best just to leave her body be. I don’t think she was unfaithful, Alice,” Russell said quietly, looking into his mug of tea and gauging his own reflection. She reached out and rested a hand on his knee.
“I’m really excited to be an aunt,” Alice offered with a broad smile. “All the fun of parenting with none of the downsides.”
“I can hardly wait,” he replied with heartfelt facetiousness, downing his beverage and standing. “I want to be next door before Veera is done with Gentia. Thantis, thanks for the tea and I’m glad everything went well on board.”
“It is no problem, none at all. Congratulations again, Russell,” the death priest replied.
“Yeah, seriously,” Xan added. Russell knew the youngster meant it every bit as much as his elder, despite his brevity. He nodded to them all.
“What are you up to later, Alice?”
“Well with the harvest coming up I think I’ve put off Alyra too long. She really wants to be able to color her fur for the festival so I figured we could get started on that now that everyone in the village can see well.”
“Alright, good luck with that. See you guys.”
‘Auf wiedersehen!’ Io added as the two of them pulled back the cloth door covering and headed out, leaving Xan and Alice looking at one another.
“All that stuff Io was talking about, do you really think Veera had cubs on her own? Was she really touched by Meylith?” he demanded.
“Xan, you know you could probably still have cubs naturally, right?” Alice replied.
“That wasn’t what I was asking!” he shot back as Thantis could only chuckle. The human pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, forced to personally reckon with ‘species bias’ for the first time.
“I don’t know, Xan. If they don’t belong to some other male… I just don’t know.”
“So you believe it?” Veera asked quietly as Gentia used her cane to slowly lift her body back into a standing position. At her age the bending necessary to conduct an exam of a female Cauthan was becoming difficult, but time and patience assured that all proceeded smoothly as the head priestess slowly twisted the stiffness out of her back.
“Hmm? What is there not to believe? You’re certainly pregnant! Or are you surprised instead that I believe in Meylith’s divine blessing? No male would dare lay with you even if you asked!” Gentia laughed, patting Veera’s belly. “All of the signs are there. Though I am surprised that you did not notice it yourself.”
“What should I have noticed?” Veera wondered a bit defensively. “It’s not like I ever thought I was going to have cubs.”
“Mmm, the Mother works in not so mysterious ways, doesn’t she child?” Gentia remarked mystically, sitting beside Veera on the bed. “Russell may become cross with me, but you should not mate with him again until you have given birth. Usually your body would make such things rather painful if you bothered trying, but you and he have a deep bond. Who’s to say? For now I will care for you and your cub.”
“Cubs, Gentia,” Veera corrected, fluttering her feathers. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“You did. Mysterious ways indeed,” Gentia repeated with an astonished voice, swatting her on the knee. “Now then, before we head back out into the hustle and bustle, I will tell you what I tell all females of our tribe. Do your best to remain active and eat as much as you are comfortable with. If anything feels amiss, come to me immediately.”
“And what if I don’t know how to be a mother?” Veera asked sadly, looking down at her hands, clasped in her lap. “I lost mine too early.”
“Oh my child,” Gentia whispered. “All of the answers you need will be found within, I promise you. I cannot count the number of times I have witnessed young females, far younger than you, transform into mothers on account of carrying and delivering their young into the world. But we will be here for you as well, Veera. I will be here for you, as I always have been. You refused to ask us for food. I hope that when you and your mate are cradling your cubs in your arms you will not be so proud and seek knowledge here. You have seen much of life, Veera. Have faith in the Mother, for you, more than any of us, have been granted her favor.”
The mixture of pride, happiness, and sorrow in Gentia’s voice was truly overwhelming, and Veera could not help but envelop the aging priestess in a warm embrace. “Thank you, Gentia.”
“Why don’t you visit your father today? I’m sure he will be thrilled at the news,” Gentia suggested as Veera helped her to her feet again and the two of them exited the wing of the temple. They found Winters patiently waiting for them, occasionally waving to an acolyte or villager he recognized. Afternoon sunlight filtered inside through the front entrance, forming a warm location for some of the smaller cubs to play in. “And I daresay you are in good hands, my dear. Russell Winters, the Goddess blesses your family.”
“She does, Gentia. Thank you,” he replied as the two women approached him, his tone reserved but open as he took Veera in his arms. “All well?”
“Yeah, all is well,” she assured him. “Gentia suggested we go tell my dad. I think I’d like that a lot.”
Winters closed his eyes and placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Good idea. I need to think of what to say to my friends too. If any of them are still hanging out on this planet they’ve had a bit of a wild ride lately.”
“May Meylith wrap you in her warmth and love, and may you two remain faithful to your vows forever,” Gentia wished formally before entreating Veera specifically once more. “Veera, with your permission, Antoth should be informed of your blessing.”
Russell and his mate debated silently for a moment before he shrugged. “Up to you, Veera. It’s not like you’ll be able to hide it in a few months. Doubt anyone would buy the story you suddenly decided to get fat?”
“Russell you-” she giggled, latching onto his arm. “It’s fine, Gentia. Just, perhaps do it without Ratha in the room? Let Antoth take that arrow?”
Meylith’s chief priestess clicked her tongue and shook her head knowingly. “I enjoy the idea of living to see tomorrow, Veera. I will speak with him alone, but speak we must. If a human male and a Cauthan female, strong in faith and in love, can have cubs? This… those who serve the gods must think on this.”
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2020.10.21 05:16 EnGoodz ❗ Famous Founder of the ‘Modern Gay-Rights Movement’ Harry Hay, Mentor was a Jesuit Priest & Says Wearing a Mask is for Homosexuals
❗ Devout Roman Catholic, O.T.O Member, Liberation Theologian, & Famous Founder of the ‘Modern Gay-Rights Movement’ Harry Hay, Most Serious Mentor was a Jesuit Priest & Said Wearing a Mask is for Homosexual Occultists Practicing Communism
“After approximately ten years in South Africa, Big Harry set his sights on Margaret Neall at the formal dances, lawn tennis, and similar social occasions sponsored by the Martha Washington Club for American women in South Africa. Few stories of their courtship survive, save that Margaret’s parents disapproved; there was a seventeen-year age difference between the couple, and Hay was not Catholic. They may have also worried that despite his already accumulated riches, the demanding life of the ambitious, 42-year-old man would be taxing to whomever he married. In fact, he had just been offered the job of opening new gold mines in the uncolonized district of Tarkwa in the Gold Coast. But Margaret knew her own mind and was herself ambitious. Her military family had been genteel but never affluent, and when the handsome, wealthy man proposed, she accepted. As part of the arrangement, Big Harry converted to Catholicism and agreed that any children would be raised in the Catholic Church.”…
“Harry’s most serious Mentor was a Jesuit Priest who invited him for weekly tutoring sessions on Philosophy and Religion, hoping (unsuccessfully) to persuade young Harry to take the cloth.”…
“When in later years he told this favorite coming-out story, he referred to it ironically as his ‘child molestation speech,’ to make the point of how sharply gay life differs from heterosexual norms. ‘As a child,’ he explained, ‘I molested an adult until I found out what I needed to know.’ He recalled that Matt’s promise of a new world and a future served as a life raft during the isolated period of high school. Far from being an experience of ‘molestation,’ Harry always described it as ‘the most beautiful gift that a fourteen-year-old ever got from his first love!’ The following year, a rapidly maturing Harry broke with the Catholic Church. Like his father, he was not particularly Religious to begin with, but he attended Mass regularly at St. Gregory’s [Roman Catholic Jesuit controlled St. Gregory Nazi-anzen Church Bronson Ave, Los Angeles], at Ninth Street and Norton, to perform his bass solos in the choir. ‘When the soprano was absent, I could use my counter-tenor high head-tones to sing her part. Since the Congregation sat in front of us, nobody noticed that it was me. For the same reason, they didn’t notice when I slipped under the seats with the nice-looking tenor, George, and kissed during mass.’ The Saturday afternoon before Easter [Babylonian child orgy and sacrifice Feast of Ishtar, nowhere found in the Bible, Constantine replaced the Feast of Passover for it] of that year he waited, with many of the other Parishioners of St. Gregory’s, to endure the twice-yearly Confession. ‘Almost everyone in the Congregation was there,’ he recalled, as the Priest, Father Follen, took the Confessions one by one. When it was Harry’s turn, he made his confession, but ‘instead of telling me a penance, Father Follen asked, ‘And now, my son, have you thoroughly searched your soul and confessed to God all the sins you have committed for which you are truly repentant?’ I said yes, I was finished. It did fleetingly cross my mind about George and me, but already I was thinking that this was something that was not a sin, and was not wrong, and was beautiful, and some day I would find the words to tell people. So I said nothing more. ‘Suddenly, there was an abrupt drop in the temperature. I could feel it through the screen. His voice came back very low and very cold, and he gruffly repeated, ‘Have you finished?’ I said, ‘Yes.’ ‘You have not!’ he said. I realized in that instant that Father Follen knew who I was, which he was not supposed to—and that George had talked. ‘Are you going to say you are sorry?’ he asked. I wasn’t sorry, and there was nothing for me to confess. There was a moment of strained silence as he waited, then I heard him putting on his vestments. Before I knew what was happening, he reached into my side of the Confessional, grabbed me by the collar and by the back of the belt, and, in front of all those waiting people, marched me to the front of the Cathedral, kicked open the door with his foot, and pushed me out, shouting, ‘Don’t come back until you are ready to say you’re sorry.’ Harry never did. But when, during the Depression, he visited home from College, he sometimes went to St. Gregory’s, not as a Parishioner, but as a Musician, to play an occasional Mass. ‘From the pulpit, Father Fallon would thank me for the music, and then invite me to the Sacristy, where we would finish off the Sacramental wine. Then the old hypocrite would chase me around the table. But I never let him catch me. I was very wise by then.”…
“Sometimes the kids from the Filth and Famine League would go hear Harry play the organ for the Los Angeles Lodge of the Order of the Eastern Temple, or O.T.O., [Jesuit Priest, see website for citations] Aleister Crowley’s notorious anti-Christian [pro-Catholic] Spiritual Group. Based on the [Jesuit created and controlled, see my website for citations] Order of the Golden Dawn, a Secret-Society concerned with the use of ritual sex in magic, Crowley’s Society was not so secret and was known to have created homosexual sex-magic rituals. The O.T.O. motto, [Jesuit Casuistry] ‘Do What Thou Wilt Shall Be the Whole of the Law,’ inspired the name of its mother Church, the Abbey of Thelema, which in Greek means ‘will.’ The original Abbey was in [Roman Catholic, Jesuit controlled] Sicily, but the Los Angeles chapter also called their meeting place Thelema, although the smallish quarters were in the attic of a four-story house in Hollywood. Regina Kahl, with whom Harry had acted, was high priestess of O.T.O., and she hired Harry to play the organ at Services. In keeping with the times, no one was openly gay, but the Lodge was run by a frail man named Wilfred Smith, who often performed ‘Exorcisms’ on attractive young men. Kahl, whom Harry described as ‘the biggest lez you ever saw,’ and two older women known as the Wolfe sisters were Priestesses. The Wolfe sisters wistfully hinted that sex-magic rituals would be nice if enough people ever joined the Los Angeles Temple—but enough never did. When the services were to start, remembered Harry, ‘a gong sounded and we’d get to the Chapel by ladder. The Congregation sat in pews facing a sarcophagus behind a gauze curtain. Regina, in a flowing robe, slit the veil with a sword and out came Wilfred wearing a snake diadem and a red velvet cape velvet cape made from a theater curtain. ‘I am a man among men,’ he would say. Then, taking Regina, who towered above him, he’d say, ‘Come thou virgin, pure and without spot.’ Many visitors had trouble keeping a straight face. Harry mischievously slipped ‘Barnacle Bill the Sailor’ or ‘Yes, We Have No Bananas!’ slowed to dirge tempo, into the contrapuntal themes he was hired to play. Frequently, he dropped into his [non] former Catholic Church to play a Mass earlier in the day just to balance his Sacrilege.”…
“The simple fact of being in New York made even everyday events take on a more vivid quality. ‘Every Sunday there was a parade somewhere or other,’ Harry recalled, ‘parades for various Saints of the Catholic Church, for local candidates, for the neighborhood Junior High School. If we wanted to have a parade that was important to the Left, we’d have to check with the Junior High first.’ The Hays frequented parades.” ……
“John Lyon Burnside III had already met Harry at Gerald Heard’s house … Burnside’s background was respectable; … winding up as a staff Scientist at [Jesuit created and controlled, see website for citations] Lockheed. … Burnside was at once an attentive listener and as discursive as Harry, the perfect partner for Harry’s ongoing dialogues about gays. Though John arrived a nerve-racking three hours late to their first date, they postponed the chef ’s salad Harry had prepared for another five hours, which they spent in bed. They fell for each other at every level, as they found out how much they had in common. Burnside was also a westerner, from Seattle. Both were [non] lapsed Catholics, were close in age (Burnside was forty-seven; Harry fifty-one) and had weathered long Heterosexual marriages.”…
“Harry got to know every Indian dance, every festival time, and the best route to every Catholic Cathedral and windowless Church of the Penitente Catholics. [Literally creating and performing the Roman Catholic black-magic Eucharist for his homosexual sex-magic rituals—that is to say—Roman Catholicism.] He baked his own recipe of high nutrition bread for the gay waifs who came for showers, dried apple chips when there was a bumper crop, and made wine from currants, pears and plums.”—Stuart Timmons (Homosexual Idolater Author of Harry Hay); ‘The Trouble with Harry Hay: Founder of the Modern Gay Movement,’ pp. 24-25, 48, 54-55, 97-98, 134, 245-246, 247, (Boston: 1990) [Emphasis Mine]
“One masque group was known as the ‘Société Mattachine.’ These Societies, lifelong Secret Fraternities of unmarried townsmen who never performed in public unmasked, were dedicated to going out into the countryside and conducting dances and rituals during the [Roman Catholic] Feast of Fools, at the Vernal Equinox. Sometimes these dance rituals, or masques, were peasant protests against oppression—with the maskers, in the people's name, receiving the brunt of a given lord's vicious retaliation. So we took the name Mattachine because we felt that we 1950s Gays were also a masked people, unknown and anonymous, who might become engaged in morale building and helping ourselves and others, through struggle, to move toward total redress and change.” —Henry Hay (May, 1951)—Jonathan Katz; ‘Gay American History: Lesbians and Gay Men in the U.S.A,’ p. 620-622, (New York: 1978) [Emphasis Mine]
2020.10.21 04:48 Most-Initiative-7787 Secret sex sister
If you’re new to the story, here is PART 1 and PART 2
Let’s pick up where we left off in Part 2. I will still refer to the man as James so it doesn’t get too confusing.
Just pretend it says his real name there.
Wait, Ron’s last name was Klein.
Remember Ron? The kid from Facebook who had James’s face.
That kid, who James was using as his face and body double, was his NEPHEW.
After a quick google search of James’s real name, I learned that my cute 17 year old blonde haired, blue eyed boyfriend was a 46 year old man with a wife and 4 kids.
The many photos of his two sisters that he had shared with me were his oldest daughters.
I told Sarah right away what I had found. It’s been a while, but I believe her response was something like “Oh my God?!”.
I held back the tears and numbing anxiety and decided that I needed to confront him. Since I was in class, text was my only option.
“I know you’re not who you say you are. Just tell me the truth.”
He admitted that he wasn’t the 17 year old in the pictures and whatever information I had uncovered was probably true.
He told me he would explain everything to me later, which surprisingly he did.
The waiting was killing me, but the next day I sat down in a booth at a restaurant in town and talked with him on the phone for what felt like all day. I figured if I was in public I wouldn’t break down in tears.
I don’t remember everything from this conversation, I’ve repressed a lot of it, but I remember right after we hung up, I broke down in tears. My poor waitress who had to bring me my check.
He said that he was lonely, that he wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone but that we got along so well that he went along with it.
I remember him saying I’m sorry, a lot.
After that phone call, we had no communication for a couple of weeks. But being the highly inquisitive person that I am, I wanted to know exactly who I was dealing with.
I texted James that I would like to meet him face to face, but only in public.
Trust me. I would like to tell my 19 year old to not be so damn stupid and just block his number and move on, but I was a naive person and thought I could handle it.
My dad was going back to the town James lives in and I asked to tag along so that I could do some shopping.
I chose the mall that was down the street from our hotel.
I told him I would be sitting near the cafe in the Barnes and Noble.
I must have been sitting there for a couple minutes but when I looked up -he was there- walking towards me dressed business casual in nice pants and a beige jacket. It really is the most normal looking people who who’d never suspect harbor so much evil.
He took a couple glances around, come to find out later from him that he was worried I set him up and called the cops.
I hadn’t, but now wish I had.
The conversation flowed easily, like everything was the same between us. He even showed me the burner phone he used to text and call me. He would later stop using that phone with me. I’m not sure if he still had it when he was arrested.
We started to walk around the mall while I asked him questions.
This part are his words and I cannot confirm if they are true. I know now that he is a pathological and compulsive liar.
He told me that he had been sexually abused by his brother and his marriage was awful. He wasn’t sexually attracted to his wife anymore and couldn’t stomach having sex with her so he looked elsewhere.
He told me that he was a sex addict but was going to the anonymous meetings.
He would take pictures of his nephew, Ron, so that he could send me new pictures to keep it looking real.
He was able to talk to me so often because he had gone back to school and would tell his wife that he was up late doing school work.
I asked him, “Have you stopped doing it?” “Are you still going on Stickam?”.
He said yes, he wasn’t doing that anymore since I had caught him.
He said all the right things and talked to me like he was genuinely sorry and to me was like a lost puppy just looking for company.
He left it up to me as to whether our communication would continue.
I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.
I justified our friendship as he needed someone to keep him in check and I needed someone to tell my problems to.
I naively thought that as long as I was talking to him, he wasn’t going back to the sites or potentially hurting anyone else.
We would communicate on a semi regular basis. Always checking in on the other. He was my shoulder to cry on when my first real boyfriend dumped me, and would be there when the next boy would break my heart, again, and again.
He was there for my problems, and I would be there for his. When he needed to complain about his wife, kids, in-laws, work. He really did hate just about everything in his life, except for me.
He even gave me new running shoes for my birthday.
It was a very unhealthy friendship and I know that now.
It was around 7 in the morning.
I was in my Junior year of college at this point.
My phone started going off like someone was calling.
James and I had a system; you only call after you text the other and make sure it’s ok.
So I knew something was wrong. I let it go to voicemail.
“Hi (OP). This is (let’s call her) Lindsey, James’ wife.”
She had found our text messages. Which to be honest were nothing shocking or scandalous.
She told me she was leaving James and taking their children and that I should not contact James anymore.
Long story short, she didn’t end up leaving him and she didn’t take away the kids. Much like what he did with me, he told her what she wanted to hear and they stayed together until he was arrested.
I’ve never reached out to her directly since all of this happened. From the beginning James told me she was basically a b*tch, so understandably I didn’t have a high opinion of her. I’m sure she’s actually a very lovely woman.
Although, who knows what she did or didn’t know what her husband was up to in their own home.
I’ll speed things up a bit to get us to 2018 because there wasn’t a lot that happened between 2014 and 2018.
I didn’t speak to Sarah again after maybe 2013. She disappeared. Unsurprisingly.
I graduated college and decided it was finally time to leave my hometown and start my career.
Naturally James was excited and was hoping I would choose his hometown or the next largest town about an hour away as the place to start my career.
I told him I was moving to the other side of the country.
In my gut I knew I didn’t want to be any closer to him. I started disliking having him in my life. He was a grown man complaining about his life to a young girl and who would compliment me on my looks far too much for anyone to be comfortable with.
My mom always says, trust your gut, and my gut was telling me to get the hell away from this man. Physically and mentally.
So I got a new job and moved 2,000 miles away to a city where I could have a fresh start.
I suppose you could say the move across country was my awakening. I realized how emotionally messed up and toxic our friendship was.
I stopped responding to his text messages in the new year of 2018. After a couple of months he got the hint and stopped texting.
And that brings us to the present. Glad you made it this far with my ramblings lol
I was curious about his kids and where they ended up.
Before we stopped speaking, his two eldest had gone to college and one had gotten married. The other even had a kid. He wasn’t happy about the unplanned pregnancy.
I googled one of the girls names, the one with the baby, and found her wedding announcement.
Then I saw the headline.
“(Hometown Name) Man Arrested, 30+ Years for Kid P*rnography”.
I’ve altered the title just a teeny bit.
I swear my eyes had to climb back into my head.
Two years had gone by without a word because I thought he had actually moved on with his life.
He was arrested a few months after I stopped communication and has been in prison since last year.
Based on all of the articles and court documents I read, here’s what happened.
A female victim, who was a teenager at the time, had came forward to the state police a few years ago and they got the FBI involved.
After investigating for two years, the police and FBI discovered he had been coercing and blackmailing hundreds of teenagers (both boys and girls) to send him explicit photos of themselves. For 10 years! He hadn’t stopped until the day he was arrested.
He even created false identities as “friends” to help in the act and get kids to trust him and gain access to their socials. “Sarah” was one of them.
I’d like to add at this point, he was very involved in his kids lives. He volunteered at their schools and was always around young children.
He was the soccer dad type.
At no point did I suspect he was hurting or even speaking to minors online. I thought he had cleaned up his act and was living clean.
I thought about all of those children, only of which a handful have been identified. If I had been a year younger and given him explicit photos, I would have been with them in that courtroom.
Hundreds are still unaware that their photos are in police custody.
I wanted to scream. Tell him right to his face how much of a disgusting pervert I think he is and that he should die in prison alone and despite his best efforts, I am happy and living a healthy life not under his influence.
I thought I knew all of his dirty secrets, but he still pulled the wool over my eyes and fooled me until the very end.
I was never called by the police or FBI or notified of his arrest.
I don’t know if the police know about me or of James’ victims, as that name wasn’t mentioned in the court documents.
He might have been trying to protect me or just protect himself from further prosecution.
In January of this year, James’ sister texted me asking if I would receive a letter from James. At this point I didn’t know he had been arrested. I didn’t respond.
About a month after I found out about his arrest, I received a text message from someone I didn’t know.
“Hi (OP), I am a friend of James. He wants to make sure that you’re ok. Please respond.”
Again, I did not respond.
After this message, I got pissed. He had no right to give my phone number to anyone. Let alone a (likely) pedo friend of his.
Federal prisoners are only allowed to communicate with people on a pre-approved list that he has to submit and get approved by the person and the prison.
I am not on that list and never will be.
After this last contact attempt I reached out to my dad, who works for the corrections system, and asked him what I should do.
He said to contact the prison and let them know he was attempting unwanted contact through third parties and that it would likely stop.
Thankfully I haven’t had to do that. The contact attempts stopped and because I didn’t respond to the texts or notify the prison, he doesn’t know that that is still my telephone number.
He’ll likely die in prison. Good.
And that everyone, is the end.
If you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the comments, message me directly, or if you feel like hearing another Catfish story, different person altogether and not quite as dramatic, let me know!
submitted by Most-Initiative-7787 to catfish [link] [comments]
2020.10.21 02:44 Aurreum Secret sex sister
Moderate term lurker. Don't think I've seen a post here that didn't resonate with me to some degree. I figure I figure confession is good for the soul and this sub is a resource and a community I could use about now. Buckle up, it'll be a long one.
I (M23) broke up with my girlfriend (F23) over text about two months ago after a 5 year relationship. We started going out just after high school. We were the only people each other had dated. She was there for me and pressed me into overcoming various anxieties and supported me in a way no one else had to that point. I didn't finish high school (on a technicality I have a diploma) but she got me to enroll in a community college. She got me to try again.
Over the course of the relationship my current recollection is that I was pretty closed off: she tried getting me to sing and dance with her (activities she enjoyed) but I shunned it. Honestly, I was emotionally distant, using humor to deflect how I felt constantly. Our communication in a daily sort of sense was tiresome by my memory. We had different ways of communicating and interpreting each other.
She had anxiety and depression issues as well. I think she needed someone who could be emotionally there for her when she was having a panic attack or other such thing. I didn’t know how to respond. I always wanted her to try and push forward and get better. I saw the progress that I had made and wanted the same for her. I would tell her she should see someone. She would tell me that she had made progress but that I couldn’t see it. I wanted to be a better boyfriend, a better person. I could envision it constantly, the man I wanted to be.
The pandemic hit. I was stressed. She was stressed. I was going to transfer to a major university and we hadn’t worked out the logistics of that. It wasn’t very far away but still a pain for either one of us. I sat down with her father-in-law who expressed to me a concern that she wouldn’t be able to move out or get a job or be happy following her own college graduation at the end of the year. That night when we saw each other she was feeling down and I sort of cracked: I said I was concerned for her and that I couldn’t be with someone who can’t help themselves. It was a shitty night for me, all things considered.
The next few months went by on a slow decline: she stopped all physical intimacy. Our anniversary came and went. Finally, on a night when I was frustrated again in August, I texted her that it seemed our paths had diverged. I wish I could have at least done it in person, but if I didn’t do it then, I’m not sure it would have happened.
The next few weeks were hard. I missed her. About a month later I had coffee with her step-father again (we did have a good rapport). He told me she was actually doing quite well and it probably wasn’t a good fit anyway and (weirdly enough) that we should have been having more sex anyway. I came away honestly feeling liberated from that last encounter. I had a good narrative: it wasn’t going to work out anyway and I was somewhat vindicated and I was well to wash my hands of the family (her step-father always had kind of an… unconventional relationship with my GF’s mom- but that’s a whole story unto itself). At some point I sent off a text (violating no contact, I know) to my now ex-GF apologizing for the manner in which I broke up with her.
I moved to college. I felt amazing. I met so many people and the opportunities abounded. I felt in my element in a way I hadn’t before. My parents were so proud and bombastic about me. My sister told all her friends and coworkers how smart I was and how I would do so well. I got a flu shot on my own despite a really, really big fear of needles. I bought a bottle of whiskey (to cook with) despite having anxieties about buying or drinking alcohol. I was actively nice and outgoing to everyone I met despite being pretty introverted normally. My thoughts did drift to her occasionally. I knew I had to forget her, or at least leave her mentally behind. I realized some sage advice along the way that I don’t believe I’ve seen on this sub before: don’t get off to pictures of your ex. It’s not helping you recover. It’s keeping them in your memory. It didn’t help that I found her insanely attractive and pretty much exclusively got off to her over the last 5 years.
Following from above, there was a ton, an absolute fuckton, of “deprogramming” I knew I’d have to engage in: I had spent so long with her that I thought of her and her alone when topics like her favorite game series came up, or tattoos, or chihuahuas, or the entirety of the state of Florida came up. That kind of stuff. I knew it would be an ongoing process and maybe one that was never fully finished.
Then October 4th came. I woke up to a text from her. Why I hadn’t blocked her, I can’t say… guess I was just bad. She said she accepted my apology for the way in which I broke up with her and asked how I was doing. And then we started texting. Nothing serious I thought. I could tell by her responses, her tone, that she wanted to keep it civil and cool, if friendly. She had previously stated that she would be okay with us getting back together “in 5 or 10 years” if “we were friends and it happened again”. I started to realize over the following days what with our very light, cordial texting, that I was making all these self-improvement steps because I assumed that it would lead me back to her. I figured that what with the pandemic that I could go away and come back a better person and because we loved each other (and admittedly still did) that she would accept me back and I would be the man that I had secretly yearned to be through the years.
Saturday, October 17th came around. A few days ago from this posting. I was bold that night. I had been telling her over the past two weeks of the steps I had made. I was kinda virtue signaling. I told her that night that I may just be okay with getting a drink with her at some point- it was a massive step for me, one I was sure would win her over. She said that she might consider it “in the distant future as friends”. I asked if we were friends. She told me she wasn’t sure we could go to being friends so soon and that besides she was casually seeing someone.
That hit me like a truck. I was always very possessive of her, and her of me, and there had been a lot of rhetoric in our relationship about spending our lives together. I told her I would marry her. Yes, I violated that oath in words and deeds, but it wasn’t until then that I felt it.
I said I would like to talk to her- on the phone this time, as I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. So we talked. I cried. She had spent the time recovering. Truly recovering. She found someone sweet and yeah I just had to deal with that. She made it clear she wasn’t taking me back but that she did, in fact, love me and that, again, maybe we could be friends in the future, and yes, that would mean seeing and accepting knowing that we are with other people. To my credit in the conversation, I did not beg her to take me back as I did in subsequent dreams of her. I knew what she was saying was right. I knew the path that I had to take to go forward. It would be hard, but I knew it. I only had her tell me, half-heartedly, that there was no future for us going forward. I know she didn’t personally believe it but I knew that I needed to hear it. Now I realize there’s no point: I know what she thinks. I wished her the best, and told that even though I didn’t feel it, someday I would. She wished me the best, and she meant it.
I was, and am, depressed. I called my father to come to me that night and take a long walk together, as we so often did. While he was driving over to me, I cried in front of my best friend on Discord (which was, to be fair, a huge personal growth step for me). I have an amazing support structure. By the time my dad arrived, I was more leveled headed. We talked. I told him what had happened. We walked.
The next evening, I felt a burst of inspiration. I knew there would be ups and downs on the path forward, but nobody ever tells you how spontaneous, and how fleeting, they sometimes are. Like little micro oscillations of mood that one cannot predict. I reached out on a high, and texted her something I do not regret:
“I’m super sorry to break no contact but while I feel it, while I’m internalizing it, I needed to let you know that I’m super happy for you and I genuinely wish the best for your life and I hope you find happiness, true happiness. You’ve been such a profound impact on my life all for the better and I’m lucky to have known you. Goodbye [GF]”
I blocked her number but not before she could reply that she wished that same and again was here to support me and that she wasn’t “going to say goodbye, but rather [she] hope[s] to see [me] later”. I had tried to think of her as dead. I couldn’t at the time and still now abide or fathom just being her friend (though maybe I will in time learn what that means) and her keeping the window open for me hurt worse.
I’m still finding that I have intrusive ideations of our future together. I’m still planning on becoming the best person I can be because that’s what I think she deserves not because it’s what I have wanted all along.
I don’t plan on contacting her anymore, unless I do find it within myself to be okay with her dating and even marrying someone else. Right now the sheer thought of another human touching her or being romantic with her makes me have a lot of anxiety.
But I consider it a challenge: I’ve overcome stuff before. Sure, this is the most hurt I’ve been in my life to my knowledge. But I’m choosing to write my narrative like this: I was a person upon whom the onus of responsibility for the fall of my relationship rests. I did not do what I could and it can and has been mentally debated by me that the only way I could make such progress forward was upon the dissolution of my relationship. In that way I was somewhat fated to fall. Its kinda poetic now, like a Greek myth or something. The future is now in my hands and I ascribe virtually all agency to recover to myself. The flip side of such an individualistic writing is that, should I fail to recover, I will blame myself and myself alone.
And that’s what this is all about: relationships, break ups, the whole community herein- it’s all a story we tell ourselves. Best we know how to control it, make it work for us.
And if you’ve made it this far in the ramblings of an internet stranger all I have to give you are my commendations and congratulations. Thank you for taking the time to read and to judge and hopefully to learn from Breakups as I know I have. Peace.
submitted by Aurreum to BreakUps [link] [comments]
2020.10.20 08:44 beardedguy87 Secret sex sister
So it was 430am and I had been awake for nearly 2 hours now unable to sleep - things on my mind. I hope that perhaps putting into words exactly how I feel will help relieve some of the worry and pressures I'm feeling inside.
This may be long so I do apologies and thank you for taking the time to read. (Also please be aware I talk about my sexuality so just in case anything of the like may make you uncomfortable.)
So I (currently 33) was born male and as of recently lived that way and have recently come out as gender fluid however I am unsure if I truly want to be female. Constantly reinforced by society that I am a boy I should dress, play etc as a boy should. I have a boy's name which to be honest unlike most non binary I am happy with and I've never felt uncomfortable with being referred to as he/him.
However I have always felt this underlying concern/question that I am not who I am supposed to be. I remember, quite late into puberty I still had not masturbated and asked my mom if I was "broken" I had never had a sexual attraction to women so when being around male friends who would comment on how attractive that girl was or how hot celebrity x, y and z were I simply would smile, remain silent or over play it. However I never felt anything. The first time I did manage to successfully masturbate helped to alleviate these feelings of "brokenness" but again this was not due to being aroused by that of a female, or even male.
I think before moving on it may be important to highlight moments I can recall where moments that I was struggling with my gender would surface however I am aware that these could have been "normal" behavior for a young boy. I remember having my sister dress me up as we would pretend to be spice girls...I wanted to be Geri as she was the one I liked the most. I loved toys and I remember playing with my sisters Barbie and RV however this was suppressed by me having an action man doll. I remember going to the shops with my and sister looking at dresses and holding one up to me and half jokingly "does this suit me?" Of course this was seen as funny, I wanted to be an entertainer so this was just something people saw me do and think "oh you, aren't you funny". A final pre/early puberty memory I have was seeing my sister have some new heeled shoes for Christmas so I snuck into my sister's room and tried them on however being young and unsure how to walk in them I instantly tipped over snapping the heel clean off, upsetting my sister and leaving me to put this experience as a reason to not pursue wearing heels.
I know this is going on so let's move forward, in 2016 I moved away from home. I was 18 and lived over 100 miles south of my hometown living and working with a unique cast of characters my eyes opened up to all manners of people. What I take from this is this would of been the very first time I openly questioned my sexuality...perhaps this is why I never felt comfortable, why I felt "broken" however even when someone did make advances with me I panicked and once again repressing these feelings and continued with my day to day.
During this time I happily chose to cross-dress for a department football match. Now I'm not a fan of football but when the ladies team needed a goal keeper I was their only option and I um'd and ar'd ultimately until they explained that I would need to dress up as a girl which I then jumped at the chance. In a poorly fitting outfit comprised of a crop top and mini skirt I felt comfortable I vaguely remember playing it off as a joke but thinking back now it was not only fun but I enjoyed it.
Over the years after this point dressing in women's clothes never really cropped up but of course I would look at dresses in a shop and wonder how it would look on me. My friend group at the time was a very stereotypical bunch of lads beer, football and girls. I get on with them they're a great bunch but I always felt uncomfortable and out of place. I would redirect a conversation so I could join in as it would primarily be about football or girls. I continued to get on with my life, feeling forever sad, I had moments of happiness but many were forced.
Now the next part of this story could be a bit TMI so you can skip if you want however I feel it's a stepping stone to where I am and why I'm writing this. I always had a fascination of transformation I remember as a child I would watch a tv show, a movie where the protagonist would be transformed into something/someone or of course body swap with someone of the opposite sex. Now what frustrated me and again building up this narrative that I was "broken" was feeling of arousal I would get from these scenarios. After watching I would be left in a state of sadness as I wanted that to happen to me, be it being turned into an animal or having my body swapped with that of a women. So upon searching the internet I found sites that allowed people who had a similar interest and would draw and upload artwork of men becoming women, women becoming men, people being turned into animals - I was happy I had found like minded people who, through their art could satisfy this deep yearning to be someone else.
(A side note when I was younger I loved theatre. I attended a youth theatre and this was always because I could be someone else)
As time went on I found more and more sites which offered artwork, offered stories - stories where I could put myself.in the shoes of the character so in my mind I could live out that fantasy. Eventually I discovered the furry fandom, briefly the furry fandom are a group of people who are fascinated by anthropomorphic animals and where they create a character that they use to interact with one another. "Great!" I thought I could pretend to be someone else. Not thinking I chose a male based character but would regularly design a female version. The main benefit of being in this fandom was meeting many people, people of all shapes, sizes, sexualities and genders. It opened my eyes to so many possibilities. This feeling I had always pushed away surfaced again but tenfold. I first began to question my sexuality more realizing that I wasn't straight and then experimenting to see if I was gay, I enjoyed my experience but again I wasn't turned on by a man. Speaking to people who had a better understanding of the different sexualities on the spectrum we identified that I fall into the Asexual umbrella, specifically Demisexual.
Apologies for all of this info dump but I promise we are getting to end….
During this time I came across sissy pornography something inside me enjoyed how these cross dressers were wearing ladies panties, makeup, stockings etc and after some time something inside me clicked "I want to try on some female underwear" my thinking was perhaps if I tried a pair and they was uncomfortable I could remove this idea that I wanted to be a girl. So I went out to the local Tesco I walked upstairs looking like I was up to no good, I had researched sizing and worked out that back then I would of been a 22 panty size. So I picked up the first pair I laid my eyes on went to the self service (luckily no tag so I wouldn't have to ask for it to be removed) paid for my "contraband" and went home.
I took them out quickly and held them up if I remember rightly they were a pair of briefs, not full briefs, navy blue thrilly around the edge and a little bow in the centre. I took off my current pair of boxers and slid on the panty and as they rested in place I was amazed by actually how soft and comfortable they felt. I looked at myself in the mirror and I loved the way they looked and the way I felt. I felt cute and comfortable, something which I had not felt for ever or the least for a very long time. So months passed, no one knew about my "dirty little secret" . I felt bad, like I was doing something wrong. But I chalked it up to a sexual kink and not a way of me opening up about who I am. I was asked by my sister to house sit while she and my brother in law went away and while sitting in their living room I suddenly had the urge to rummage through my sisters clothes and try some items on. I found a blue/purplish dress, a pair of tights and shoes which at that time fitted me...not comfortably I might add but my feet squeezed in. I put a little bit of makeup on (poorly) I had a reasonable length hair then so I found and donned a headband and upon looking in the mirror I felt good amazingly this dress fitted it wasn't too tight or too loose the tights showed off my legs I was happy, I took a photo but suddenly I was hit by a feeling of guilt and again like was doing something illegal…"this isn't right I shouldn't be doing this" so with that I took off the clothes put everything back and did my best to forget it however the photo I took would always be a reminder of how comfortable and pretty I felt at that exact moment.
Moving forward I continued to wear my ladies underwear, I bought another pack with different patterns all still donning the tiny bow on the front of the lace always making me feel like a girl when I wore them. One day when I was visiting my mom, she wanted me to stay, I declined as I had no change of clothes but she insisted on washing my current underwear and borrowing a pair from my step dad(clean I will add). Suddenly panic rushed over me winding me, I stuttered my objections leaving my mom feeling upset and unsure as to why I didn't want to stop and spend some time with her. She was unknowing of my little ladies underwear secret and how she would react washing a pair of white panties with lace, a bow and little hearts on...which her son was wearing.
That same day and a reason I can't exactly remember my step dad took me out I think my car may have been in for its MOT hence why I was visiting. My step dad had brought up about me staying saying that it was fine for me to stay and that I could borrow a pair of his underwear (again I'll add they would of been clean) already frustrated of having to make excuses I let it out, my secret I had kept silent about for so long, was out between me and my step dad...and he was absolutely fine with it, he understood said that my mom doesn't need to know, he would offer to do the washing instead of my mom limiting the chance my mom would see my pretty panties.
Once back and feeling a little better that someone knew I bit the bullet and told my mom, her reaction was confusing. She seemed fine but withdrawn from it. I know she probably didn't understand it, why would her SON want to wear ladies underwear? Now that people close to me knew my secret I felt a little relieved. I decided to tell my aunt (whom I'm very close with) and she was extremely understanding and happy for me that I was comfortable. However over time the feeling of it being a “dirty thing that I shouldn't be doing” cropped back up. Perhaps because I couldn't go and wear more than a pair of knickers, still keeping it a secret from my sister who had that nice purple dress that made me feel so good and that I wanted to try on again without the worry of being considered a freak or it was just an odd kink.
Eventually I was tormented enough to take every pair of pants I had and throw them away, gone for good I could forget about this silly little “phase”. I eventually told my sister who was shocked at this admittance but I think it was perhaps more so because I never told her sooner. I eventually told my dad after a conversation about my sexual orientation but I think that was brushed over as it was something he didn't want to consider.
So from that point on I continued to live my life as I had before putting any thoughts about wanting to be a female to the back of my mind out of the way. I lost a lot of weight which helped me find better suiting clothing but from time to time I would see a woman wearing an outfit and I would, in my head, envy that I couldn't be her. I decided to binge every season of Ru Paul - I understand that drag queens are different from transgender however the confidence and bravery to live the life along with looking absolutely gorgeous was just another thing to be envious over.
Which now brings us pretty much up to date the last few weeks thoughts of wearing women's underwear have surfaced and the idea of pushing them away has become difficult. I see items of clothing that I think I could pull off. I find that over all I have begun to feel more feminine, I've always hated my body hair but always seen it as a "man" thing to have whereas now I have shaved and smooth legs, chest and arms feel so good.
I branched out and purchased some outfits I can wear under my male clothes, I've bought makeup to practice. To help prevent the "dirty feeling" I had when I first tried on ladies underwear I decided. I would control the narrative I would tell those closest. Granted I was a bit off handed with it as I couldn't bring myself to initially say it out loud but after the message I’d sent and was read, a deeper, emotional centric conversation was had. It was hard to hear how people thought they failed me and that they were so concerned that I could harm myself from not being happy.
However I explained that 1. Coming out as genderfluid has helped me as I don't have to worry about being "caught" which would make for a more awkward conversation and 2. Over time as I become more comfortable with who I want to be. Who my true self is, I may hopefully find a place in my life where I can sit back without feeling guilty about being me.
Of course I have a long road to go before I can be confident in who I want to be. As things stand and reciting these moments that have played a part to this point I think I will always come back to the idea that I am a woman at heart.
Thank you for sticking around. I've written this to help me identify and validate my emotions and feelings at this time in my life and also as a call to anyone who read it and had experienced a similar trail of events.
TL:DR: Can intermittent moments have lead me to this point or would my experiences have been more "above" the surface. I am just worried that how I'm feeling and how I have felt is not real and is from something else, from what I'm not sure. This is to put it out there to see if there are others whos experiences were similar.
submitted by beardedguy87 to TransSpace [link] [comments]
2020.10.20 04:24 darkparadiseofmine Sister secret sex
Sorry if this is all over the place, but I really need to get this out.
When I was 20 I was in a very bad place. I had quit my job, flunked out of college, and was in constant turmoil with my parents. I still lived at home and every single day was a huge fight about why I wasn’t succeeding in life and how I never left my room.
I was diagnosed as having generalized anxiety, major depressive disorder and suffered with suicidal ideation, but I was never given any help for these things. I had no money and no cell phone and no anything. I felt trapped in my situation and wanted to get out of it.
I did have 23-year-old boyfriend, but he treated me poorly. We started dating a few weeks after I turned 19 and the relationship wasn’t stable at all. He was in love with someone else and cheated on me emotionally and physically with her throughout our entire relationship. He constantly compared me to her and asked me to change lots of things about myself to make myself more appealing to him. I was blamed for his erectile dysfunction and forced to go on birth control (that I couldn’t afford and had to spend most my money on) because he didn’t like condoms. The worst thing he did was ghost me for days on end whenever he felt like it (usually when he was out partying) and it would cause my anxiety to go through the roof. I was basically treated like garbage and made to feel like he was the only person who could (sometimes) tolerate me.
About halfway through our relationship I cheated on him during one of his ghosting sessions with my first love (who treated me poorly as well but that’s a different story) and wanted to break up. He begged me to stay with him and I did. It was an overall messy relationship with many threats of leaving from both of us, but we ended up staying together for just over 2 years.
I did also have a few close-ish friends and my sister, but I always projected an image that my relationship was happy and healthy. I never said one bad thing about him and hid how bad things had gotten from everyone. I had always been bothered by friends who trashed their exes and then got back together and expected everyone to forget all the bad things they had said, so I never did this. I kept all of our fights a secret and to everyone in my life it appeared like I was in a good relationship.
A few months before I turned 21, things got really bad at home with my parents. I was constantly being lectured and yelled at and I wanted out. I was highly suicidal and I often did things that could potentially end my life. I wanted to do something different with my life and not be so depressed and I told my boyfriend this.
Around that time he was offered a job in a remote fly-in area that was 2 weeks in and 1 week out. He decided to rent a dark and dirty basement suite about 8 hours from where we lived to keep his stuff when he was at work. He told me I could stay there and work on getting better and feeling better about myself. On the week he had off our plan was to spend time together travelling. He was going to be making a lot of money and told me he just wanted me to be healthy and happy. I was too scared to leave home, but he convinced me that I should go and I eventually decided to make the move.
I broke the news to my parents (who were not pleased) and left town. The first few weeks were good and I cleaned up that dirty basement, cooked healthy meals, walked around a lot and spent a lot of time just self reflecting and finally feeling like I didn’t want to die. I started writing a resume and thinking of places to apply to work. Things were finally getting better and I was happy.
The relationship was okay. We were having a lot of sex and a lot of time apart, but we weren’t fighting and that felt nice. He did forgot my 21st birthday and when I reminded him he made me feel bad about it. But overall this new situation in my life had me feeling on top of the world. I wasn’t even relying on him financially yet (except for the rent on the basement suite) as my parents and my grandmother had given me some money when I moved out for my birthday.
On his third time coming back from his job, he told me he was going to visit some family friends on the way home from the airport, but when he came back he would take me out for dinner. I was so excited he was back and I dressed up and waited......and waited and waited and waited. Eventually I called him and he wouldn’t answer my calls. I was worried sick and I thought he had been in a traffic accident. I was so lost about what was happening and in an absolute state of panic.
He finally came home at 3AM about 9 hours after his flight landed and he was absolutely hammered. He had driven home drunk and ended up calling me from outside the basement suite. I had fallen asleep waiting for him and was woken up by my phone ringing and him banging on the windows and door and yelling at me to let him in. I answered the phone and asked him what had happened and he just screamed at me to let him in or he would break the door in. I was terrified and I didn’t want to open the door, so I asked him to calm down before I let him in. He flew off the handle, started hitting the door even more aggressively, and then took off in his truck with the tires screeching down the block.
I was so scared! I was so worried he would hurt someone or hurt himself because he was driving drunk. I thought maybe he already had been in an accident (he had already been ticketed for impaired driving before we started dating) and maybe was trying to flee. So many terrifying thoughts were in my mind. I tried calling him and telling him I would let him in. I left voicemails begging him to come back and I was apologizing for everything and anything. I just wanted him off the road and back to where he couldn’t hurt himself or someone else.
He didn’t pick up and I eventually contacted two of his close friends who lived 12 hours away. I was desperate to know that he was safe. I had never been so anxious in my life and I just stayed awake by the phone waiting for him to call all night and all the next day. One of his friends eventually responded to me on Facebook the next evening and said he was with them and that he was safe. He had driven 12 hours to a different province in the middle of the night drunk! I asked him to ask my boyfriend to call me and he said he would, but my boyfriend never called.
I ended up seeing on Facebook that they were throwing a party and saw a bunch of pictures on one of his friend’s Facebook pages of a girl I didn’t know with my boyfriend. I was so distraught and I kept calling. He ended up answering one of my calls and telling me he didn’t give a shit about me and that I meant nothing to him and I absolutely broke down. I didn’t even understand what happened (I still don’t know fully to be honest) and why he didn’t come back until 3AM drunk when nothing had even happened.
I asked him if he was going to just leave me why did he have to do it in a city 8 hours away from home where I knew nobody and had no support? I reminded him that he was the one who convinced me to move there by telling me that he would support me and help me. I told him I didn’t appreciate being abandoned in a city far from home and that my anxiety was worse than it had ever been at home. I told him I was scared and broken and that if he didn’t care about me anymore I wouldn’t be around when he changed his mind. He suddenly got very calm and said “I’m calling the police” and hung up.
I tried calling him back but he didn’t pick up. A short while later 2 police officers were at the door. I let them in and ended up talking to them for a few minutes. They told me that they had expected me to be “standing there with a butcher knife” (whatever that means) and asked if I wanted to go to the hospital for wanting to kill myself.
It was a bizarrely calm situation and they were laughing and joking around with me. I said not really and one of the officers asked me if I had ever thought about killing myself in the past. I said that I had before, but I wasn’t presently thinking about that. He suggested that I go with them to the hospital that was less than 2 kms away to get some resources. I agreed to do this, but when I got in the back of the ambulance they said I had to go to a different hospital that was about 45 minutes away.
Long story short I ended up sitting in a room alone for almost 8 hours until I was handed a phone. On the call my dad told me that everything would be okay, my mom was on the way, and some relatives that lived 2 hours away would be picking me up. Once my relatives came I was given a sedative by a doctor and then driven back to their home. Nobody asked me what was going on and I didn’t offer up any information. All I remember is sleeping until my mom arrived. She just wanted to get my stuff and drive the 8 hours home immediately. I wanted to talk to my boyfriend and eventually ended up getting a hold of him. He said he was going to fly back to see me.
He came back to the apartment and there was a lot of crying, some (what I thought was) makeup sex, and lots of promises made for the future of our relationship. My mom wasn’t going to allow me to stay, so I ended up packing my things and leaving with her.
Over the next few months we spoke on the phone semi-regularly (mainly on the weeks he was working and rarely on his off weeks). He never came to see me like he promised and eventually he stopped calling. I guess my heart finally broke because I stopped wanting him to. Our relationship was officially over. We both stopped contacting each other and I was happy it was over.
Except I was now hearing things from mutual friends about what happened that made my ex-boyfriend look like a saint. He was in a happy new relationship with the girl (his now-wife) he had met that night (and cheated on me with) and I was the damaged ex-girlfriend who “threatened to kill herself so her boyfriend wouldn’t leave her”. But that isn’t what happened! At all!! Even my dad mentioned something about me accepting that my boyfriend wanted out of this relationship and even though I loved him I had to let go. But I didn’t fucking love him! I didn’t even want to be with him! I just wanted to be out of my parents home and be free of the constant fighting.
I never told anyone this and I never defended myself against any other rumours I heard over the years and I just know that everyone thinks I lost it because my boyfriend broke up with me. But that isn’t what happened! He didn’t break up with me! He told me he was going to meet me at a specific time, didn’t show up, drove drunk, finally showed up in the middle of the night yelling at me and banging on the door in terrifying manner, drove drunk again, didn’t tell me where he was, told me he didn’t give a fuck about me, cheated on me, called the cops on me, came back and then fucked me and made me think he was there for me and that we would work it out.
Obviously now I see that he was trying to get rid of me, but it wasn’t clear to me at the time. If I had known this then I would have acted differently, but I didn’t. I am still so embarrassed all these years later and I hate that people think I couldn’t handle a break up. It was more than just a break up that I couldn’t handle and it’s beyond frustrating that I am considered the “crazy ex-girlfriend” when he was the one who did all of the crazy (and illegal) things!
submitted by darkparadiseofmine to offmychest [link] [comments]
2020.10.20 00:48 lirosao Secret sex sister
My partner (24m) and I (24f) have been together for several years, and our relationship is the strongest and healthiest it's ever been. We love each other very much and want to build a life together. But there's a long history of us breaking hearts, and our family and friends have refused to accept our being together for more than 3 years now. If we get married, a lot of them will probably cut ties with us completely.
Long background story ahead, because I don't really know to shorten it and still get helpful, relevant advice. It's complicated, guys. Will put a TL;DR at the end.
We met at 18 when we were both young and stupid but already had significant baggage. We'd both suffered childhood trauma, though we responded in different ways. At that age, I was deeply depressed, socially anxious, had grown up too quickly and couldn't relate to my peers, and was still reconnecting with my own identity and emotions after years of apathy and depersonalisation in response to the trauma. On the other hand, he was angry, still hurting, depressed, very insecure, lacked maturity, and struggled with boundaries and entitlement. We also both had undiagnosed autism. No one involved realised any of this at the time, and this insight comes from hindsight and years of therapy and growth for both of us. We've both done our best over the years to heal and become better people.
Our relationship got off to a very rocky start. We were friends during our last year of high school, and had mutual friends. I developed a crush on him, and was apparently very transparent about it, but he didn't return it. After high school, we grew closer and closer, and turned into the kind of best friends who can't go a day without talking to each other about anything and everything. I kept falling for him, my first love, deeper and deeper as the summer wore on. He kept not returning those feelings. But then he started showing sexual interest in me, and I was only too eager to become friends with benefits. I probably don't need to tell anyone what a terrible decision it is to enter into a sexual dynamic with someone you have romantic feelings for, when they don't return those feelings. Even if they care for you as a best friend. This set off a cycle of emotional outbursts, fighting with each other, breaking up, complaining and ranting to friends, making up, fighting with friends - rinse, repeat several times. By the end of that year I was emotionally exhausted and in such a vulnerable state, to the point that when we had a big fight one day, I was so scared of repeating the cycle and being hurt again... that the next day, I slept with someone else to have an excuse to end things, telling myself I was gonna date this person who actually wanted me instead. Meanwhile, my partner was having one of the worst days of his life that day... and, for a couple of months, had been summoning up the courage and working to get past his insecurities to tell me that he loved me too... which he did, and had been planning to... on the day I was going to tell him our sexual relationship was over for good and I was gonna date someone else now. So he told me he loved me and then I answered that I had slept with someone else to have an excuse to end things. After a long night, and then a long day, of talking things through openly and honestly, holding and comforting each other, and showing each other compassion and forgiveness... we chose to finally, properly step into a romantic relationship.
But, there were multiple problems from the get-go. A lot of damage had already been done during the friends with benefits stage, especially in the eyes of our family and friends. We were each other's firsts (first love, first sexual partner, first serious relationship) and we had no idea what we were doing. We were both still struggling with our unresolved childhood trauma, and didn't yet know how to handle that individually, let alone together, and not entangle our separate issues with each other. We both still had undiagnosed autism, which meant that many of our actions were misunderstood by the neurotypical people in our lives, while we understood each other. We were just beginning university, so it was already a time of immense change and challenges in our lives. And both sets of parents were against us, before we even properly started our relationship. My highly intuitive mother had picked up on some of his anger, insecurity and entitlement, when we were still in high school. But she had no idea of the background, and therefore rightly had concerns, which she expressed to my father. My partner also made a bad impression on my father the first time they met by not showing proper respect according to my culture (in hindsight, my partner was terrified and feeling insecure, and his autistic brain probably threw out everything he knew about the protocol of meeting elders in my culture). My father is very big on respect, integrity and honesty. He exemplifies those qualities and expects everyone else to do so as well. So the bad first impression stuck. In terms of my partner's family... his mother had found sexual texts between us on his phone and immediately decided that I was a complete slut and he was just thinking with his dick; his sister had decided I was a weirdo and was doing my best to take her brother's attention away from her and/or hurt him; I still don't really know what his father's opinion of me was/is. It's worth noting that his parents are insanely entitled and borderline narcissistic, with his mother being emotionally manipulative and verbally abusive, and his father being verbally and physically abusive. His sister is becoming more and more entitled and emotionally manipulative as well.
So, we dated for a whole year, but throughout that year our relationships with each other, our family and friends, and most importantly ourselves, progressively got worse and worse. Ultimately, a month after our first anniversary, he broke up with me, citing a full month of constant fighting and toxic behaviour. But we still loved each other, the foundation of our relationship was being best friends, and we had multiple mutual friends, so there would never be a clean break. We tried and tried for the next few months to figure out a healthy way to be part of each other's lives and we almost succeeded... but then one night, my father decided to go onto my email account and read my emails with my partner (serious breach of his adult daughter's privacy, I had to put a lot of work into getting past that). My partner and I had been trying to sort things out in the form of sending letters over email, and one of the things we were figuring out was our sex life. We're both kinky as hell and had developed a dom/sub relationship, with me calling my partner daddy. Reading that broke my father's heart. My and my partner's intentions had never been to disregard my father's importance in my life or reject my father, and I've always had an abundance of love and respect for him. But he experienced it as disrespect and, especially, rejection. And the general consensus from our parents and our friends that knew, was that our kinky sex life (between two fully informed and consenting adults who love and respect other) was disrespectful, immoral, deviant, disgusting, abusive, etc. That meant that we were under immense pressure to cut ties completely. And ultimately, for the sake of my relationship with my father, I took the plunge and cut ties.
My partner came back to me 6 months later. We hadn't gotten over each other at all in that time. We started sleeping together again, in secret, and then dating again, in secret. Only a few people knew we were even associating again. Our second attempt went better than our first, and lasted another year. But we were still struggling with our own trauma and mental illness and crazy academic lives. We still hadn't figured out how to not entangle our separate issues with each other. Our relationship was effectively long distance, because we studied at different universities and could only sneak in a secret visit or date every once in a while. And we still hadn't figured out how to deal with conflict without hurting each other. Then I started experiencing a severe major depressive episode, with insomnia and panic attacks. My academic life started falling apart and I fell apart with it. I reached the point of being suicidal after 4 months and was voluntarily committed to a psychiatric clinic for treatment. My partner didn't cause any of that, but he couldn't help and did make mistakes, because he was in way over his head. We both were. But of course, my family and friends assumed it had to have something to do with him. Because, after all, we'd had an abusive sexual relationship and he was obviously the abuser. So they did an investigation (not an overstatement) and figured out we were together. They then presented me with all the evidence they'd found of what a terrible person he was and how it was all his fault I had to be hospitalised and he'd obviously been manipulating and abusing me. Then placed immense pressure on me to cut all ties with him forever, or they'd disown me, for my own good. So I ended it. I wasn't in a position where I could afford to be abandoned by my family and friends, and left with no financial support. To be clear, my parents and friends are damn good people who always try to do their best for me, but they're human and make mistakes. And pain and fear have this way of distorting our perspectives.
My partner came back to me 4 months after that. This time we'd both really given it a proper go at moving on and getting over each other, even dating other people. It didn't work. We became friends and started having sex again, but didn't commit to anything for a few months. Then we had a long, emotional and honest discussion about the fact that committing to each other would probably ultimately mean losing our families and most of our friends. My family and friends think he's an abusive asshole, and his family thinks I'm trash and only ever cared about sex. With our eyes wide open to those facts, we chose to commit to each other. Again, in secret, because we weren't ready to lose all the most important people in our lives.
It's been two years since then. We've encouraged and supported each other in growing, learning, becoming better people and reaching our respective goals. We've both learned how to handle our own problems, and give each other support and comfort without getting our issues entangled. We've both healed from a lot of our childhood trauma, and learned how to manage mental illness in healthy ways. We've both learned about our autism and working with it. We are able to resolve conflict without disrespecting or hurting each other. We communicate openly, honestly, respectfully about everything. I won't say everything's perfect and easy - it never is. There are still problems between us and within ourselves, but we have what we need to solve those problems. There's healthy love here, plenty of respect and support, a feeling of safety and comfort with each other, and true commitment.
But is it worth losing so much? Giving up my parental home, my parents' love and support, my steadfast friends who have become family, my role in my godson's life (the child of two of my closest friends), and so much security, stability and familiarity? What if we just end up resenting each other?
At this point, my family hasn't seen or spoken to my partner in 4 years, and his family haven't interacted with me at all in 3 years. They're in no position to judge us or our relationship, because they don't know anything about us anymore. But regardless of how much we've changed, it's extremely unlikely they'll ever change their minds.
TL;DR My partner and I have a strong and healthy relationship, and we're committed to each other. But we fell in love at a young age, when we both had unresolved childhood trauma and undiagnosed mental illness and autism. When we started our relationship, it was the first time for both of us (first love and first serious relationship) and we had no idea what we were doing. We both made huge mistakes, and badly hurt and disappointed each other, our families and our friends. To the extent that they threatened to disown us if we stayed together. Our families and friends have no idea we've been back together for two years now. They have no idea what our relationship is like now and how much we've grown as individuals and as partners. It's unlikely we'll be able to change their minds, or that they'll even be willing to listen. If we get married, we will both likely lose the majority of our families and friends.
So, should I stay with my partner, or keep my family and friends?
submitted by lirosao to relationships [link] [comments]