Mom caught me naked

2020.11.25 05:13 kalenryan13 Mom caught me naked

Most people remember the last time they talked with a loved one before death; remember mine like it was five minutes ago. But it’s not just the fact he was my cousin. No. There were… complications… surrounding Matt’s death.
It was a rainy day. The air was foggy, a thick curtain of mist drowning the city.
“Coffee’s real cold.” he remarked, taking a sip from it.
A few droplets poured onto the glass. We were seated inside a booth in a small coffee shop on the corner of a bustling city street.
“We shouldn’t have come here. Always crappy service.” I responded.
A mob of people held umbrellas and shielded themselves from the onslaught of water that burst from the sky. The clouds, which had been swollen and puffy during the last few days, had finally decided to let loose and rain hell upon the world. I took a sip from my glass of coffee, and spat it back out, feeling cold droplets leak down my throat. I coughed.
“It’s terrible.” I stated.
“It was your idea to come here.”
“Yeah, last time I came, it was still better than this.”
“Hey, so, I know what you wanted to talk about, Carson.” Matt said to me.
I pursed my lips and nodded my head.
“You want me to talk about it?”
“I want you to listen, first. Jackson’s an ass. Try not to let him get to you too much.”
I frowned and looked outside again, watching the people go by, staring at their faces. Sore eyes, cheeks slick with tears, and solemn expressions. Leaning my head against the window and watching the crowd, I murmured to Matt.
“He did everything for me and then drifted away, before he fucked my girlfriend. People change, I guess. Cold-hearted piece of-”
One of the faces outside caught my eye. It was a man with dark hair and pronounced features. He flashed his pearly teeth, forming an ear-to-ear grin. Soulless, empty eyes, that seemed to smile just as wide, though with looming purposelessness. He wore a sleek, yellow raincoat, slick with rainfall. The hood was pulled over his head. His smile grew wider, and he stared at Matt. I shot Matt a glance, and he narrowed his eyes. The man began to walk across the street, coming closer to the coffee shop. He had a strange glow about him, as though the fog didn’t affect him and he could be seen clearly through it. He didn’t check both ways when he crossed the street. A car, rolling down the road, honked when they almost crashed into him. He continued to walk.
“Who the hell is that? Matt? Matt, do you know him?” I asked.
Matt only stared out the window, his jaw gaping. The man approached. He stood in place and he smiled. His eyes did not wander back and forth, trained solely on Matt. My cousin stared back, his former squint turning into a prolonged gaze. He produced a weak, seemingly plastic smile in response. The man’s teeth gleamed as the headlights of a passing car reflected off of it. He carefully turned around and walked away. The smile disappeared in an instant, and replaced itself with the look of a soldier standing at attention. Matt and I trained our sights on the man as he walked away, off into the distance, out of our view. The mist consumed him. He was gone.
“Yeah. People change.” Matt said after a long moment of silence, then stared at me.
“We can talk about this in the car.” I replied.
We drove along the city streets. I explained it all to him. One of those typical, ‘they ripped my heart out’ conversations that lasts for hours and results in the realization that you don’t need them anymore, them being my best friend and my girlfriend. I went home and tossed and turned for a while. My mind was still just as cloudy as the world was outside. I cleared the fog by watching reruns on TV. I closed my eyes halfway through an episode. Rest came eventually. I had work the next day and went to that without a problem. The week went on as usual, until I received a phone call later one night, one from my mother. I answered the phone, and I could hear sobbing on the other end.
“Mom? Mom, what’s wrong?”
She sniffled and spoke a few words. Emptiness. Emptiness is the only word I can use to describe it. I lowered my head, threw myself onto my bed, and laid there for hours. It was the calm before the storm, feeling nothing but a pit at the bottom of my stomach. Disbelief was still inhibiting realization. I didn’t try to sleep and instead listened to Mumford and Sons, my favorite band, for much of that night. Time progressed. I started to punch my pillows. The funeral came. I walked over to the casket, knowing they had kept it closed for morbid reasons. I’d heard enough about the grizzly conditions they’d found him in. I begged God for change, for this to be just like Lazarus in the Bible, come forth, Lazarus, rise from the tomb or whatever the hell it said. I never used to pray. That night I found myself praying as I drove home, praying as I showered, praying as I washed the dishes, and praying as I fell asleep. It was a storm cloud hanging over my head; looking down would make it go away, but you could still hear the thunder.
I skipped work for the rest of that week and came back the next Monday. Every few minutes, something would distract me. I shook my leg, tried to keep it still, and then gave in to the shaking again. I tapped my pen against my desk and cracked the joints in my fingers. My computer screen sat before me. Images flashed on it; my girlfriend, Jackson, and Matt. My girlfriend, Taylor, and Jackson’s smiles looked so fake compared to Matt’s now. I went through my computer and deleted every single picture I had left of Jackson and Taylor. This was followed by the memory of my cousin and I, sitting in the shop. Cold coffee. His face. The man’s face, his smile. The man walking into the mist. The moment where we shook hands and he patted me on the back and told me everything would be alright one last time.
“Carson, are you okay?” somebody tapped me on the shoulder.
I spun around, feeling myself choke up, and something wet drizzling down my cheek. I wiped it away and sniffled.
“I’m so, so sorry for your loss. You can go home, if you need to.” my boss said calmly.
“Yes, that’d be good. Thank you for understanding, Mr. Johnson.”
“Carson, you know everybody just calls me Michael.”
“Sorry.” I said, standing up.
I pushed my chair in behind me, gathered my things, and started the walk for the parking lot, which was across from the office. More mist and rain. A sheet of water splashed over my shirt as a car passed me in the street, laying on their horn. They rolled their window down.
“Watch where you’re going, buddy!” shouted a gruff voice.
I didn’t bother to look at who was driving. I looked next to my car, unlocking the doors. Someone was parked in the spot next to mine who I had never seen before. She had long, blonde hair. She turned her head slowly, a smile growing on her lips. Chills coursed through me. I got into my sedan and shut the door, starting the car. I shot her one last glance, seeing her impossibly white teeth once more. I didn’t smile or wave, and instead threw the car into drive and pulled forward out of my space, zoomed across the parking lot, then proceeded to cruise along the roads back to my apartment. I felt shivers running down my back as I thought of the woman in the car again, and that sickening smile that she wore. Her eyes never blinked. She didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sleep didn’t come easily that night. I threw the sheets off of me, feeling hot and cold rushes winding through my skin. Sweat pooled up in my armpits. I closed my eyes and tried to give in to the blackness. I managed to surrender myself to sleep in time.
I woke up with a stuffy nose and a sore throat. I coughed and looked around my bedroom. It was still dark, with light filtering in from the closed blinds, leaving everything a shade of gray and white. There was a looming shadow in the corner of my room, and I saw a whitish gleam coming from the silhouette, like a reflection, or a trick of the light. I knew, though, that there wasn’t a lamp or coat rack in that corner of the room. My heart pulsed a few times. I felt the blood circulating through me grow thicker, almost defensive, like archers lining a castle wall during a Medieval siege. I jolted forward, glaring at the dark spot. It shifted. I felt eyes piercing into me.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
Nothing in response.
“I’m not playing any games.” I said, my voice sounding withered and defeated.
The gleam in the shadows faded away, and the darkness was broken apart as the sun began to shine brighter through the closed blinds. I sighed, stood up, and began to walk around my bedroom, pacing back and forth. The day continued on. I showed up to work and slugged through it all. I kicked my leg against the ground, tapping a pen against the table. That reminded me of the time where Matt and I, during our history class in middle school, had gotten detention after we continued to tap our pens against our desks. The teacher had started off by giving us a warning. By his third or fourth warning, his face was tomato red and I thought steam would start blowing out of his ears. I remember the two of us laughing about it at lunch with Jackson. Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t hear Michael behind me.
“Can you come to my office, Carson?”
I set the pen down and turned around.
“Ummm… yeah. I’ll be there in a moment.”
Michael didn’t say another word and walked away. I looked to him, only to see the back of his suit and his legs carrying him back to his office. I stood and followed, catching the eyes of my fellow employees as I went. I saw a smile flash at me but didn’t recognize who they were. I swallowed and then kept my head pointed down, watching the carpeted floor underneath my feet change colors as I entered another section of the office. Michael’s door was left open, and I didn’t bother to knock. He had multiple awards and trophies sat on the edge of his desk, a laptop open in front of him. He was leaning back in his chair and cracked his knuckles.
“Have a seat.” he said.
He gestured to one of the chairs. I took a spot, sitting down like there was a nail about to jab into my ass, and stared at him.
“This… isn’t an easy conversation to have. You’re a great worker, and a great man, Carson. I’m not going to fire you. That’s not what this is about. But I don’t like seeing you this way. I miss the Carson that walks in and shouts ‘good morning’ every day. I’ve got an offer to make you. I’ve got a good friend, Jenna Gray. She’s a therapist. I’m sure I could get you an appointment with her for free, and maybe even multiple appointments without pay. If you don’t go to her, at least do something. Read a motivational book. Get your feelings out. You know I’m here for you, too, Carson. Take the time to heal, but don’t let yourself get stuck in the mud. I miss your pranks and your energy.”
Noticing the silhouette of a trophy in the corner of the room, I nodded my head.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
I agreed to see Jenna sometime soon, and Michael told me he would try to get an appointment or two set up. Work got out at five. I walked across the street and to the parking lot. Along the way, I caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of my eye. I looked up. Parked next to my car was the smiling woman. Only this time, I watched as her teeth parted, and a snaking, inhuman tongue curled out from it. She didn’t say anything and flicked it at me. Flecks of spit shot between her teeth. Her eyes were still stony and shiny, like polished marble. I sprinted to my car and threw the door open. I launched myself into the driver’s seat, stabbed the key into the ignition, and started the car. I peeled out of the lot. I didn’t look back once and found my apartment using an alternative route. Once inside, I sat at the kitchen table. I cradled my face in my hands, rubbed my eyes, and looked around. I hadn’t turned any of the lights on yet. Grayish light covered the apartment. I turned on a small lamp in the kitchen’s corner and leaned against the wall.
The next day, after work, I went to my appointment to go see Jenna. The fog had broken apart during the afternoon. The horizon was painted sky blue, and a glowing yellow plate hung in the sky, beaming rays of sunshine down on my skin. A cool breeze twisted through the air as I stepped out of my car, closing the door behind me. There were a few windows spaced out between the drab bricks. A bell rang as the door opened. There was a mother watching her son play with trucks on the floor; his hair was matted, and his clothes were wrinkled. There were bags underneath his eyes. I stood and watched the boy play for a while; when the mother looked up at me, I almost expected a smile to spread wide across her face. I found nothing but a frown and two hazy eyes staring back at me. I stared for a moment; then I blinked and found a seat.
There was a door on the left with a plaque on it that read JENNA GRAY in thick, golden letters. My sight was trained on the two words like a sniper following its target. I turned my head to look outside again; the sunlight disappeared as fluffy, gray clouds loomed closer, reminding me of warships. The door squeaked, and my head snapped back to the plaque. A filthy, unshaven man coughed and thanked Jenna as he stepped out of her room. With the man gone, I saw Jenna in the doorframe. Her long, blonde hair almost covered her face-wide grin, and her teeth sparkled, bathed in the dim light of the office. She didn’t speak a word to me. I began to take steps backwards, my breath coming in gasps. I felt the collective eyes of the other clients in the waiting room all staring at me. Jenna’s mouth opened, and a tongue began to slither out from between her red lipstick. I don’t remember the seconds between sprinting from the office and getting home. I just remember lying in my bed, naked and shivering from a cold shower, thinking to myself, the woman in the car.
I came to work the day after and performed worse than I ever had since Matt died. I’d woken up early and parked, and planned to leave late, too. While I was at work, I researched and found Jenna Gray’s website and looked for a photo of her on it. Jenna had brunette hair instead of blonde. Different eye colors and facial structures, too. In the middle of the day, I fell half-asleep. When I woke up, thunder cracked and wind screamed all around me. Blue stripes of lightning could be seen through my open window. Rain spilled in as the woman climbed through, the smile still stuck onto her face. I curled into a ball on the other side of the room, clutching a knife in my hand. I pointed it at her and muttered,
“I’m not playing any games.”
Nothing in return but the smile.
I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and looked around the office. Nobody was making any phone calls, and there was no conversation across the room between coworkers. Only the sound of fingertips hitting their keyboards. My head throbbed, and I winced. I thought about trying to go home. I remembered how many days I had already taken off. I think I managed to create the illusion of productivity, writing a few expense reports, long breaks of pen tapping in between each paragraph. I listened to the clock in the cubicle over as it ticked with each passing second. My shaky hands produced errors twice more often than they had the day before. I found myself deleting whole sentences and retyping them.
“Doing good, Carson.” Michael patted me on the back. “You’ve got this.”
I nodded my head.
“Thanks Michael.”
I felt him walk away and didn’t turn to look. Michael told me I needed to go home when I asked to stay longer. I swallowed but didn’t argue. I clocked out and crossed the street with a thumping heart. I could see the familiar car parked next to my own. I reached into my pocket, produced my phone, and turned on the camera app. I took longer strides and was at the woman’s window. She was still there. Her teeth were the first thing I saw. A tongue unfurled itself like a scroll opening. Slobber dripped from her lower lip. I snapped a picture of her and jammed myself into the driver’s seat. The car was in reverse and out of the parking lot in seconds. I almost hit a pedestrian as I went out. I heard their shouts echoing behind me. Shivers raced through my body; the shaking fit continued until I reached the apartment parking lot. I didn’t park the car, and held a foot on the brake instead. I opened the photos app. The woman was outlined with static, as if she had been there in the photo and was cropped out. My stomach flipped like a pancake.
I didn’t sleep whatsoever that night. Light seeping through my blinds was enough to make me jump. My hands trembled and a layer of cold sweat covered me. The headache never left. My body felt spring-loaded, like my bones were going to shoot through my skin. I ate breakfast in a hurry the next morning and parked my car in a small lot, just down the street from my office building. A streetlamp nearby provided enough dull orange light for me to use the stick of deodorant I kept in the glovebox; I had forgotten to shower. Tires rolled across the concrete. My eyes shot over and met another pair of eyes. Stone-cold eyes. I threw my door open, closed it, and locked the doors. I heard another car lock, looked back, and saw the woman standing outside of her car. Her mouth formed a toothless grin. Two tongues slipped out this time. I checked her license plate; there was no number on it. Just a sheet of white metal. I sprinted into the office.
I didn’t get a lot of work done the next day. I took the most pen tapping breaks that I ever had. Michael appeared behind me again, clapping a hand on my shoulder. He murmured his congratulations and sauntered off back to his office. I looked outside as a flock of crows, like little fighter jets, soared by. I ate a cold ham sandwich for lunch, and went back to work. I stared at the crumpled up wrapper that sat in the trash can, shook my head, and tapped my pen against the desk. I felt a hand on my shoulder, turning around to see Matt. He was only there for a second. Long enough for me to see the crazed grin on his face before he disappeared. I froze, my mouth gaping open. My heart jumped a few times. The day started to come to a close. People began to leave the office. Intentionally, I’d left a large task undone.
“Do you think you’re well enough to get it done tonight?” Michael asked, tossing me the keys to the office.
“I’ll try. No promises.” my throat was dry.
“You can lock up, then. Thank you, Carson. Lots of respect for you.”
“Yup.” I replied.
He left the office. I heard the door closing behind him and looked around my cubicle. There was a picture frame in the back corner, with papers piled on top of it. I reached out, brushing the pages aside. Underneath was a framed photograph of Jackson and I on the first day of sixth grade. I stared at him, mostly; his blonde hair was spiked and crusty with gel. Now his face appeared devilish, like that of a mischievous kid. I wished he was in front of me right now; my hands needed to beat something. Glass shards stuck out from my bloodied knuckles after I’d brought my fist against the picture four or five times. With the glass broken, I tore out the photograph inside. My hands ripped it to pieces without me having to think about it. I dropped the remains over the trash bucket in my corner, and they drifted down like snowflakes. I launched the wooden frame into the trash afterwards. My breath came in shaky gasps now. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my chair.
I heard scratching from across the office. Didn’t rouse me. The scratches came again, louder. My head shot up. I squinted and looked at the window on the other side of the office. Most of the lights were out, leaving the building a dim, lifeless color. Fog built up outside, and rain poured down in sheets. Raindrops raced down the glass. A message scratched into the glass was lit up on the window. I shook my head. The urge to stay sitting was powerful. Curiosity yanked me by the hair and dragged me over to the scratches on the window. My first thought was, it’s just a nightmare, Carson. It’s a fucking nightmare and nothing more, so don’t go screaming running out of here. Written from the inside of the office, it read, YOU DON’T SMILE BACK. The balloon that had been inflating since that day in the coffee shop with Matt had just burst. I heard a loud POP in the back of my head.
I ran back to my desk, gathered my things, and dashed out of the office, shutting off all the lights as I went. I locked the door behind me, crossed the parking lot, and got into my car. The woman’s car wasn’t there. The next thing I remembered was being back in my apartment. I’m still there as I write this. I’ve gone to work every single day, for three days, and haven’t seen the woman once. I’ve seen her in my dreams almost every night now; it’s just a replay of that nightmarish daydream I had during work. Rolling thunder. Howling wind. Pouring rain. Her in the windowsill, climbing in, while I cower in the corner with a blade I’m too afraid to use. That sensation of being spring-loaded has grown. Matt’s cause of death was never released. I think I understand why now. Yesterday, my other cousin, Grant, gave me a call. I answered the phone with a grumbling,
“Hey, Grant.”
“Carson? How’re you holding up, man?”
I drew in a deep sigh. I looked out the window next to me, watching the crows find their way through the fog.
“Holdin’ up, I guess.”
I heard Grant swallow through the static.
“Listen, Carson… I’ve got… I’ve got some fucked up news for you. About Matt.”
I waited. A few more crows flapped by, this time closer to my window.
“Wha- what is it?” I stammered.
Grant’s words came out choked.
“His bones stabbed through his skin, Carson. Like his body couldn’t contain them.” he explained. “That’s how he died.”
It was like a rotten, decomposing hole in my chest had begun to gnaw away at my flesh. A few more crows flew by the window. This time there was something on the glass. A smiley-face was scratched into it, done from the inside.
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2020.11.25 01:24 Maddox_Hendrick_Lake Naked me mom caught

I snapped back to reality when I heard one of the girls exclaim, “Gaht fahking damet!” At first I laughed a little bit, but then the most surprising thing happened. Fat Monkey Rudolph repeated after her in a nasally voice, “Gaht fahking damet!”
“Tai!” Káralu shouted with a snap of his fingers.
I suddenly realized that that’s what he had been trying to do earlier—to get it to repeat after him. The girls of course laughed and went about trying to get it to repeat other phrases, some of which it did, others it didn’t. What’s more though, as I watched them all playing with it, the memory of the mime somewhere in the canopy was fresh in my mind after having combed through all the details of how I got here, and it occurred to me that I had probably been hearing one of these things instead of an actual person. But, who cares, right? So Fat Monkey Rudolph could imitate people like a parrot, fine. What about that map? Where were WE on it? I whipped around to pose the question to Káralu, only to see he had shifted and was sitting on half of it, the relevant half with the Pacific Northwestern country on it, and I just about flipped my shit.
“Fuck man! Really?” I snapped.
I didn’t even realize how aggressive I was being as I tried to push him off to salvage it. I pushed him hard enough to knock him on his side, only to see that a large segment of it had been smushed by his ass.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled.
He wasn’t happy with the way I had pushed him, and he sat up and let me know by presumably cussing me out and pushing me back, which only escalated the situation.
“Fuck you, dude!” I shouted as I quickly got to my feet.
He wasn’t going to let me tower over him though, and so he got to his feet and shouted back at me.
“Ne ka? Ne ka gahir?”
“Ne ka gahir?” I imitated him with a whiny voice, “What the fuck does that even mean, you big-eared pussy?”
Why was I being such an overt asswipe? If I had to put my finger on it, I guess I hadn’t really had the chance to express my anger at my circumstance, and right about now seemed like as good an opportunity as any. Up until this point I had been scared out of my mind, humiliated to the point of tears, and then just kind of accepting everything, but the combination of the absurdity of everything I had just put together in my head somehow being real and his having so carelessly sat on the link that had helped me piece it all together drove me over the edge. NONE of this made any fucking sense at all, and yet as far as I could tell it was real which made me really fucking angry, but also… it made me feel kind of helpless. I was 15-and-a-half, and your brain does a lot of processing of the world around you during your childhood. I THOUGHT that by now I had a pretty fair grasp of how some things in the world worked. There’s no such thing as Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny for example, because just the logistics behind getting candy and presents to all the kids that celebrate Christmas and Easter on their respective holidays is impossible, which then requires magic to fill in the gaps… which is to say nothing of their supernatural qualities, like being a sapient rabbit or an old man with a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer. You give up the notion of the existence of magic when you’re pretty young, usually. I didn’t, cuz I believed in both until I was in 4th grade, but other kids knew way earlier, around 2nd grade, cuz their parents had sat down with them and explained it. You also grow up watching various movies or TV Shows that depict supernatural or otherwise fantastic events, like people passing through wormholes in Stargate or Sliders, or all the kooky magic in Charmed (my mom really liked that show) and you have to suspend your disbelief to watch them, cuz obviously all that stuff just isn’t real. And yet, here I was… in America? America with dinosaurs, but dinosaurs so closely related to birds so as to not be immediately distinguishable at a quick glance? America with whatever the fuck that miming thing was? And somehow or other, I had been brought here by people who seemingly only did so to slit my throat on an altar? Like… why me? Why did they need to bring me from my relatively normal life in the United States of America to whoever the fuck this was? What was so special about me that they were willing to go to such trouble? Weren’t there other teenage throats to cut? And if all of this was possible, then what the fuck did I know about anything, right?
“Ne ka gahir!” I yelled again, pushing him one more time.
That was enough for him. He faked me out with a false punch directed toward the right side of my head, which I moved to the left to dodge, then he quickly wrapped his right arm around my neck and pulled me into a headlock before tripping me from behind, and before I knew it, I was on the ground, well… still in a headlock.
“Fuck you!” I said, both my hands on his forearm trying to pull it away from my neck, “Get the fuck off me!”
He jerked me forward, and then I reached up from behind and grabbed myself a handful of his hair, which made him throw me over his side, forcing me to let go. However, right after he so, he let out a loud grunt and then let go of me. I got on top of him as fast as I could and grabbed him by the vest and punched him twice in the face, cussing loudly as I did.
“You stupid… mother… fucker! Fuck you!”
Right about then I felt something heavy crash so hard into my head that I found myself back on the ground and disoriented, with a loud ringing in my right ear. Before I could come to, I felt someone kick me in the stomach as hard as they could with a wooden shoe, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, knocked the wind right out of me. I looked up and saw Ṣemánako standing there with her large basket now presumably full of tubers squatted next to Káralu, who was still on the ground with a bloody nose, with one hand on his lower back, wincing in pain. She reached to touch his arm, but he just smacked her hand way indignantly and then struggled to sit himself back up. They talked for a moment, looking back and forth at me and then each other as they did, like they were trying to decide whether to leave me there in the meadow for my trespass or to bring me with them. Káralu wiped the blood off his nose with his vest and then struggled to stand up cuz of something going on in his lower back, but he refused any help that Ṣemánako offered him and then picked up his bandolier, his water bag, and his rifle and signaled me to get up too. I was feeling stubborn though, and at first didn’t want to go with them, but then my senses came back and I realized I didn’t really have a lot of other choices, so I stood up and got my stuff.
Truth be told, I was actually a little proud of myself for having bloodied him up the way I did. I’d never been in an actual fight before, just wrestling and such with my friends during sleepovers. I didn’t know that I had it in me to do something like that. On second thought though, I had only been able to get on top of him at all cuz he had let go of me, as it seemed he had pulled something in his back when he was jerking me around in a headlock, so… a little humility was in order. Still, I had hit him hard enough to make him bleed, and I had done it right because my knuckles didn’t really hurt. Though, I started to feel like kind of an asshole as we traversed through the forest in search of some more forage with the girls. I had gotten upset and violent with him for what appeared to him at least to be no reason at all. Even if I had my own reasons for being mad, they didn’t have much to do with him, and even if they had they didn’t warrant my behavior. I started to feel really guilty the more we went because, well… I didn’t know how to say I was sorry, neither with my words or how to really express it without giving the wrong impression. Obviously, these people had some different standards of behavior than Americans, and the only way I could think of to express that I was sorry was to bow in some way or other, which might make him think something I wasn’t sure I wanted him thinking. I mean, just the initial skepticism of going with him, his grandpa, his dad and his uncle a couple days ago had nearly gotten my head chopped off, right? So I just sucked it up and hoped that maybe I would have an opportunity to make it up to him later, like, maybe by helping him out with something. I don’t know…
We circled back around through the forest to see if there was anything else decent to take with us and then came back to the creek, where the girls put down their baskets and pulled out some cured meat, nuts, and dried and salted vegetables (almost like chips, but not really) out of their bags for lunch. Everyone was pretty worn out and sweaty, and given that it must have been some time in the afternoon by now, it was about that time. The girls sat down by the rough, sandy shore, but I decided to find myself a spot a little more secluded just downstream on a large rock. Despite my previous fit, Káralu offered me some of the food before taking his clothes off and taking a dip in the creek, making sure to submerge himself all the way for maximum cooling. I sat there on a very large, decently flat rock on the side and ate while the girls undid the braids in their hair and dunked their heads. The cured meat was really spicy, but the dried, sliced vegetables were pretty good. They tasted sort of like a mixture between a corn chip and dried bananas, if that makes any sense. The nuts… I couldn’t really place the taste. They were good for sure, just… I don’t know. Sort of like macadamia? Anyways, Káralu was out of the water about as quickly as he had gotten in and was telling me I should try it, but I didn’t want to. I felt like a jerk for what I had done earlier, and was kind of feeling like cutting off my nose to spite my face. He shrugged and sat down right in front of me, all naked and glistening in the sun, but he ended up laying down on his back because his lower back was still hurting and it was uncomfortable to sit up.
I tried to keep my eyes off of him and focus on my circumstance, but it was kind of difficult. I had never really been attracted to anyone who wasn’t White before, except maybe Victor Chávez, but Káralu was exceptionally handsome and exotic-looking. Maybe the rest of his group didn’t exactly look Indian to me, but he didn’t just look Indian, he looked like Indian royalty, and I mean all of him. He was skinny sure, but lean, not soft, and there was no manscaping going on anywhere, which I had always found to be something of a turn off when other guys did it. I found my thoughts wandering to what his intentions were, like, why had he spoken up for me and saved me from his grandpa when his grandpa tried to kill me, and why the hell wasn’t he married? I mean, just about all of the ‘guys’ were good-looking in their own right, but he was by far the best of them in my book. Most every boy upwards of 14 was already married and had a kid on the way. Why not him? Part of me got to thinking that maybe he was smitten with me, but I dismissed the idea out of hand because it seemed pompous, if not a little bit stupid. How could he have decided he was so smitten with me within those first few minutes as to be willing to get between his grandpa and I, and then go to bat for me in front of the rest of his group, or tribe or whatever? And besides, wasn’t homosexuality something you got burned at the stake for back in the day anyways? Maybe in specific times and places back home on Earth, or Earth proper rather, but here maybe it was completely acceptable! I thought back to my conversation with Derek about the way I had behaved with Matt, and his words kept repeating in my head. Sometimes, playin' hard to get gets someone else got.
He was absolutely right, and given how I had missed my opportunity with Matt and the Germans back in Salt Lake, I figured that I might as well give this a go. What’s the worst that could happen? I get hung, or burned, or drawn and quartered? That was certainly a possibility, but the biggest reason I was afraid of dying at the time was cuz I didn’t know what was on the other side of it, and I was already on the other side of something right now, so… maybe death was just another opportunity, right? I stood up, and started getting undressed. Once I was naked, Káralu sat up and did that whole finger-snapping tai! thing again, and I gingerly stepped into the water for my turn to freeze my balls off. Trouble was, I had been sitting down long enough to cool down quite a bit already, so submerging myself in almost freezing water probably didn’t have the same effect on me as it had for him about ten minutes earlier, so I scrambled out of the water and back up onto the rock with him as fast as I could. He was laughing and pointing, and I noticed that my dick had shrank to such a degree as to make my foreskin look like the end of an elephant’s nose. I quickly tugged on myself to bring things back to a presentable size and sat down next to him, and he offered me some more of the meat before patting on the rock and nudging me with his hand to lie down, as if to tell me that I’d be able to heat up more efficiently that way, since the rock was pretty hot. It felt a little weird to lay on my back though—something about being on full display I guess, so I decided to lay on my stomach and use my arms as a pillow, and he laid down next to me.
At this point, I could feel the tension building, and while I was trying to present myself as relaxed, my heart was starting to race. Here we both were, completely exposed and lying right next to each other. There was literally nothing between us, and all I could do was wonder if he was feeling the same way. I would periodically open my eyes to catch a discrete peak at him, but it wasn’t long before he caught me and started laughing, which made me laugh too.
“Ganjir, ganjir.” He said, doing a pushup to sit back up on his knees.
I had heard that word before as well, and from what I was able to put together, it meant something like hold on or wait a second. I started to roll over, thinking we were going to get up, but he just said ċele, ċele, ċele and signaled me to lay back down, so I did. Then he put his hands on my eyes and closed them, and the butterflies in my stomach started flittering about in full force. What was he up to? Was this it? Were we going to do… it? Was I finally going to lose my virginity right here and now? What about the girls? They were right over there! I mean, they couldn’t see us from where they were, but what if Ṣemánako or one of the others decided to come over to let us know that break time was over and we needed to move again? What if she saw us… in the act? Of course, that’s not what was happening at all. Yes, Káralu did get on top of me, but no, things didn’t go there. Not completely anyways. He apparently wanted to rub my back, which at first I resisted. He had thrown his back out earlier in our little tussle, and I felt guilty, but I somehow or other understood him when he told me that it would be my turn to rub his back shortly. I laid back down, closed my eyes, and let him do his business. Truth be told, my friends and I gave each other massages all the time, but we always kept our boxers on in the process, even if there was some massaging below the waistband. One time we all discussed paying for a professional massage with the money we had all earned from our job at Dairy Queen, but I pussied out once I realized the massage therapist was a dude, cuz I was under the impression that you had to be naked for massages and I was afraid of the Amish potentially raising the barn (if you know what I mean), and I wasn’t out yet at the time. I had gotten really good of course at controlling myself in the process of giving and receiving massages from my friends, but what was happening now was something I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to manage. On one hand, I wanted this to go somewhere, but on the other, I was having second thoughts about initiating it. Cuz, what if two guys were supposed to be able to give each other massages while naked by the creek, without any sexual undertones? While I had just decided minutes ago that I wasn’t afraid of dying per se if these people considered homosexuality to be a crime, I was afraid of the pain involved. I had recently seen the movie The Stoning of Soraya M., which had a particularly graphic representation of a woman being stoned to death. I also started to think about Giovanni di Giovanni, a kid my age in 14th century Florence that I had read about awhile back who’d been publicly castrated and sodomized with a red hot iron. So, maybe a little caution was in order.
Káralu didn’t seem to agree, though. Not that he could read my mind of course, but he was very thorough with his massage. He started with my shoulders and then moved down my back and straight to both of my ass cheeks, but he made sure to spread my legs a little bit so he could handle each one as an extension of the leg to which it was connected. To be honest, he wasn’t bad. He used his thumbs and his fists a lot, and he was just the right combination of rough and soft. Then, he signaled me to roll over. At first, I thought this meant that we were done, and that it was his turn, but he pushed me back down softly and proceeded to massage my chest. Now, maintaining a flaccid dick was one thing while lying on my stomach, but I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do it now, especially because his junk was brushing over mine here and there as he did his thing. Furthermore, I had never had the front of my body massaged before, so I started to feel pretty ticklish when he got to my lats. It wasn’t long before I couldn’t maintain composure anymore, and I just started to laugh and squirm until he let me get up and decided to lay down himself.
I of course found it a lot easier to not give a standing ovation while acting as the masseuse, but it was still kind of difficult. Like I said, I’d massaged my friends, but this was a lot more intimate, for obvious reasons. I gave massages a little differently than most people though, cuz I liked to start with the lower back—where most of the problems typically start—and work my way up, so that’s what I did, which was also appropriate because that’s where he had hurt himself earlier. He winced and moaned a little bit in pain, but after a little bit of working on that spot he eased up and stopped making noise. After working my way up his spine and to his shoulders, I started to work on his neck, which was particularly knotted up for some reason. I tried to tell him to sit up so I could work with his neck a little bit easier, but he seemed to think I was telling him that I was done, so he rolled over and sat up, and I… well, felt like an ass. I tried to tell him to lay back down, but he wasn’t having it. He wasn’t upset, though. No, in fact he did something that threw me for the biggest loop I had ever been thrown in my young life—he kissed me.
Not like, full on and open mouth, but definitely on the lips, and not the kind of kiss you give your mom either. Why did that throw me for a loop? I don’t know, really. Maybe cuz he had good reason to think I was a jerk, but probably more cuz I had only ever been kissed for the first time the other day, and I wasn’t used to it. I don’t know. All I know is that my dick shot straight to full attention when he did. He laughed, but nothing came of it. It was time to get moving again, as he pointed over to the girls. Oh my god… the GIRLS! Had they seen what we just did? Holy fuck! I just about shat a green apple, and my mood must have been noticeable on my face, cuz he sat down next to me and put his arm around my neck and rustled my hair and said lal, lal, lal, letting me know that it was ok. Then he got up and started getting dressed, and so did I. For some reason, I got dressed a lot faster than he did, probably because I was embarrassed. But then, right about as I was tying my sash around my waist to keep my very loose pants up, I heard what every teenage boy wants to hear right after he’s been totally blue-balled—screaming.
Yes! Screaming. The girls were screaming, in point of fact. At first I thought they were screaming because they saw us, and my heart started to sink. Maybe we were about to be burned at the stake for kissing? Why hadn’t we gone all the way, if that was the case? If I was going to die for being a sodomite, I might as well have committed sodomy. But no, actually. The screaming was a bit more serious, as in the kind you hear when people are terrified, and it was accompanied by a familiar, bellowing roar, which made my blood begin to rush. Before I even knew it, I had skipped over a couple of rocks and 20 yards of shoreline to where the girls were now scattering like frightened antelope with my rifle in hand, only to see a large, leopard-like animal on top of one of them. It had a ruddy color to its coat, almost like a fox, but despite its shortened, cat-like face and the tabby markings that ran the length of its head and down its chest, it was quite obviously not a cat. In fact, the overall set up of its body very closely resembled the animal I had seen in Utah, what with its enormous forelimbs and its large, hook-like claws on its thumbs. It had this girl wrapped tightly in its powerful arms, the ends of its hooked claws sank deep into her chest and stomach, and its teeth already plunged into her neck, choking the life out of her. The look on her face was one of utter terror. Her veins were bulging as she gasped for air, her eyes seemingly about to pop out of her head, and blood was leaking from her neck and her mouth as she frantically reached for the animal’s eyes. She was trying to gouge them out with her fingers, but it had them tightly shut.
I quickly lifted my rifle to take aim, but before I could pull the hammer back, I noticed Ṣemánako behind it, pulling at its long, fluffy tail with all her might. I hadn’t been shooting in years at this point, and I wasn’t confident that I could fire without hitting one of the two people I was trying to protect. So, for a second I just stood there, too chickenshit to pull the trigger, a million thoughts racing through my head as I took in the sound of the one girl coughing and wheezing for dear life, the low growls the animal was making, and the way Ṣemánako screamed as she heaved at its tail.
Just behind her in the hedges however, I saw something that made matters all the more dire—there was another one. Of course, right? So, were these animals social hunters? How many more could I expect? The other one paced back and forth, almost as if it were waiting its turn. Whatever was going on here didn’t at first glance appear to be a cooperative hunting effort. I quickly pulled the hammer back and lifted the rifle to fire at it so as to minimize the number of large carnivorous animals to deal with, but in my utter panic I shot the trees behind it instead. It was clearly spooked, but it didn’t leave, so I pulled back the hammer and tried again. Right as I shot however, the first one let go of the girl it had in its grasp and whipped around to go for Ṣemánako, and my shot ended up hitting it in the shoulder, causing it to jump backward before turning its attention in my direction. It looked right at me, and it felt like an eternity that our eyes were locked. It had yellow eyes, and blood all over its mouth, and while it growled it showed me a mouth full of teeth that included two bloody canines that had to be five inches long if not more. It started to charge me, and my whole body froze save for my hands, which seemed to be on autopilot as I fired and pulled the hammer back and fired again. I emptied the whole barrel within a few seconds, but out of my six remaining shots only four of them ended up hitting my moving target. I don’t know where all of them ended up, but I know at least one of them hit it in the chest, and before it could jump on me it ended up recoiling mid-air and falling back down on its side before struggling to get to its feet again. I must have tried to fire at least two more times before I realized I was out, at which point I took to using the rifle like a baseball bat and started hitting it with all the strength my 15-year-old body could muster. It let out a spitting hiss, and then barked at me, and it even bit at the butt of the rifle and swiped at my legs with one of its paws, but it ultimately ended up limping off into the creek to get away.
“What, pussy? Fuck you!” I yelled as it slinked off through the water.
My victory was rather short-lived, however. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, my face had been smashed against the rocks in the water and I had heard a loud crack come from my nose. For a moment I couldn’t tell if my eyes were watering because my face was being pressed into the water, but I could taste both the soothing flavor of the creek water and the irony flavor of a LOT of blood. I could also feel a heavy weight pressing down on me, like a giant fluffy blanket stuffed with stones instead of feathers. A long, muscly, furry arm was wrapped around my torso, and I could feel this sharp, jerking feeling raking across my ribs, while a wide paw pressed down on my back, with a similar jerking feeling on my left shoulder blade. My right shoulder felt like it was in a vice, and I could feel my collarbone about to break. As I fought to keep my head above the water, I felt my face brush up against the head of the second animal, which was growling loudly as it fought to keep me where I was. I reached for its eyes, but like its companion, it had them closed. I reached for its ears, but the more I did the more I felt my shoulder and collarbone about to break under the weight of its jaws. I screamed, but that didn’t really seem to matter that much. I could hear it growling, but I could also hear screaming and a sort of cutting sound, and I started to feel some extra weight on top of me that forced my face back down into the water. The water was too shallow for my ears to be submerged though, and so while I didn’t see much of what happened next, I definitely heard it. I felt the animal’s teeth come out of my shoulder and more screaming and cutting. Ṣemánako had jumped on its back and was stabbing it with the knife she had used to cut up the cured meat, and so it was turning around to face her. Before it could however, I heard a loud bang, which was the sound of a gunshot, but also a loud splat, which sounded as if a rifle had been fired at point-blank range into a watermelon. It was so loud that the next four bangs that came afterward sounded increasingly quiet and distant, being replaced by a ringing in my ears.
Eventually I couldn’t hear anything but the ringing, but I could feel the weight had mostly gone, with only my legs being pinned down. Even still, I found the strength to pull them out from under and roll myself over, only to find Káralu relentlessly beating my now mortally wounded attacker with the butt of his rifle, who was now barely moving. He had shot it right through the throat, and its growling was reduced to choked gargling on its own blood as it struggled to make use of what remained of its windpipe. He had shot it a couple of more times in the side and the shoulder as well, so it wasn’t much for a fight.
That should have been the end of it, but it wasn’t. The first one, the one that had gone limping off across the creek after being wounded in the shoulder? Well, it wasn’t done. No, it seemingly came out of nowhere and pounced on Káralu the way the other one had on me, except this time, it was going for his neck. I don’t know what came over me, but despite having potentially just had my collarbone and shoulder crushed, and my nose DEFINITELY broken, I found myself jumping on its back with not so much as the knife that Ṣemánako had. Káralu had somehow or other been able to crouch into the fetal position with his arms firmly over the back of his neck so that it couldn’t sink its teeth in the way it had with that poor girl. So, by the time I found myself on its back, with my forearm wrapped firmly around its neck, it was trying to force one of its paws between his torso and his thighs to pry him apart. It did not like me on its back or with my arm around its neck though, and so it quickly lost interest in Káralu and used both of its forepaws to reach up behind its head and grab mine with all its might while it used its hind paws like a cat would, attempting to scratch my forearm enough for me to loosen my grip so that it would be able to force them between it and its neck and break my chokehold. Ṣemánako, being the beast that she was, went for its chest with her knife, but after a couple of stabs it was able to force us to roll completely over a few times until we were some feet away. It didn’t scratch my face, but it definitely got the back of my head and my neck something decent. It was a miracle really that it didn’t get my carotid or my jugular in the process, because it practically ripped off my left ear. Still, I could feel its heart beating, and its attempts at breathing starting to become less frequent. I didn’t have the best view of its eyes, but I could still see them, and the look in them slowly started to glaze over while its mouth stayed wide open, occasionally making a hideous, raspy attempt at a breath. Each time it did I tightened my grip. Finally, it stopped reaching up for my head, moving down to my shoulders, and then finally letting its forelimbs fall lifelessly to its sides.
The whole process was actually very anticlimactic. Sure, it seemed to be dead, but my adrenaline was still rushing, and I kept looking awkwardly up at Ṣemánako and Káralu, who were alternating between stabbing it in the chest and smashing its ribs with the rifle. We probably went on like that for several more minutes until we were absolutely sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that it was dead, at which point Káralu had to practically force me to let go.
“Mirċya,” He said as he tugged hard on my arm, “Hang lal! Hang lal. Lal, lal.”
He said that repeatedly for awhile before I finally felt safe enough to let it go, but I couldn’t stop looking at it even after I had.
“Holy… fucking… shit…” I panted.
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2020.11.24 23:38 EricaShmericaOFF The Other Way Book Report: Episode 21

Jenny & Smett: Jenny is still blubbering from last week over her slip of the tongue, as she told trickortreatsmellmySmeet’s brother and sister in law about their upcoming wedding plans. Smit’s brother, Ovenmit, tried to convince him to tell the parents Sueme about the wedding plans before he went home and told them himself (Seems like he’s trying hard to be the favorite child, but he’s definitely in the lead) . Ovenmit and his wife, Shreelanka bring up the point that things will be worse with their parents if they find out about the wedding after the fact, especially if they find out from someone else. After hearing all of this, Jenny and Smee agree to talk to the parents Sumitch together to let them know about the wedding, and hoping they might change their tune. The game plan was for SueMe’s parents to come see the new house, get the grand tour, and then be hit with the wedding news. Jenny worked hard in the kitchen preparing some eats for Someeat, as she awaited their arrival. The couple scrambled to finish swiffering the floor and putting away any “dominating” accessories that might not be mom and dad appropriate. The parents Smee arrived into town in what appeared to be a large roller skate disguised as a taxi, already in a bad mood, with their minds made up about Jenny. As they came in, Jenny tried to welcome them with her best “Namaste'', though Soomeet’s mother was more like “Nah, ma gunna stay over here”. The parents didn’t waste any time telling their son that they planned on taking him home with them, and that he’s no longer allowed to play house with his American Elder. Steemheat let them in on the news that he figured out a way of marrying Jenny, despite their objections, and was hoping they could put aside their feelings and just be happy for him, since he claims to be very happy. Unfortunately, mother Smit believes there is only one law in India -her law...and she’s the new Sheriff in town, so get into the toy cab- you’re coming home. (This segment alone secured the mother and son duo a spot on next season’s “I love a Mama’s Boy”, giving ShishKabob’s mother a run for her money) Now, I am unable to repeat all of the one liners from the Parents StoogeMe, as there were so many amazing ones to choose from. I will say that the highlights were including but not limited to; “Why don’t you find another oldie?”” Why don’t you marry a 100 year old?”” This is a couple?!?!”” She’s making your hair grey because she’s old”. Sumofit tried to combat their comments, begging them to be happy for his happiness and accept his love of the elderly, but they (especially dear old mom) would not budge. If the conversation doesn’t turn, they could always try calling up Yazan’s father to put a hit on him..…
Brittany & Yazan: Brittany, her friend Angela, Yazan and their new friend the translator, sat down at a super cute cafe to get a better understanding of the situation at hand. The translator started by speaking for Yazan, explaining that Yazan wants to marry The Brittany despite the fact that she does not want to convert to Islam and will even go to his parents to tell them about the marriage (It must be pointed out that the translator was repeating Yazan’s words verbatim, and it sounded like he was confessing his love to Brittany personally. Not sure what the protocol is for this, but he could have at least done finger quotes or something. Also, who pays for the translator’s food? Is it included in this fee? So many questions...) Yazan further explains via translator that he is willing to sacrifice everything to marry her, and that he will most likely be disowned…. But no pressure. Brittany acted as though this was a new development, though this is like the 5th episode of this storyline and if we all knew about it, she should have too. She claimed to need more time to process this news, before making her decision to marry him and move forward.( I mean the fact that they needed a third party translator to talk about their relationship issues should be some sort of sign, but I digress…) Brittany then claims she wanted to speak with Yazan’s brother to get an outside opinion on the relationship, still contemplating if Yazan is “tricking her” into marriage, and technically signing his own death warrant. Next we see Brittany’s friend Angela looking pretty excited to be heading home and not having to be the third wheel on this hot mess express. During their last few moments of their Jordanian “girls’ trip”, Brittany explains to Angela that she was overwhelmed by all of the sacrifices that Yazan has made with his parents in the name of their relationship. She retells Angela about her idea to speak with Yazan’s brother Obaida,(who’s a bit of alright-a), probably secretly hoping he’s down for a little “haram” himself. In the last segment, we see Brittany, the translator, and Obaida having a sit down meeting in a scenic pile of ancient ruins to discuss the inside scoop. She started by explaining that she loves Yazan, but does not want to cause problems with their family. Obaida (with his smoulder) tells the translator that the family is having a hard time accepting Yazan’s decision to be with a foreign girl who posts bikini pictures and twerking videos on Instagram. He also informs Brittany about their father’s murder threats, which caused her eyes to produce an unknown salty discharge for the first time this season….and she finally stopped smiling. Obaida felt the crying was a symbol of genuine love (too bad she couldn’t have cried 10 weeks again and we could have skipped all of this…) and he informs Brittany that she just needs to take care of his brother, since now he has no one in his life and everyone hates him. She felt glad that they had this talk, though it left her feeling more confused and pressured than ever. I hope the translator was offered a stiff drink after this job. (Also, I hope they did not pay him with a free haircut from Yazan’s barber shop, because it would be terrible advertising…. Horrible hair.)
Ariela & Baby Daddy Baby: It’s finally time for the Positive Gangster to head out of town, as she and Ari headed to the airport together and have a little alone time along the way. Ariela’s mom feels that the relationship issues between Ari and her Baby Daddy Baby haven’t really improved since she was last in town, and that the conditions in Ethiopia are a lot harder for her and the baby than they would be back in Joisey. Ariela maintains that she has “happy moments” in Ethiopia with Biniyam and his family, but ultimately is feeling pressured to stay for the sake of their little family of three. She promises to be honest with her mother and herself, and to be open to the idea of coming back to the U.S. if things become too difficult. Now that her parents are gone, it’s time for Ariela to prepare for baby Avi’s baptism. Baby Daddy was afraid that Ariela may take off with the baby half way through the ceremony (a valid concern) as she did with the circumcision. Ariela promised to be on her best behavior, as she dressed herself in the traditional garb, accessorizing appropriately for church with her Jewish Star necklace. It appeared that baby Avi was given a friar tuck haircut for the occasion, as he was stripped down naked for his ceremonial dip into the church’s ensuite bath tub, while everyone chanted around him. Ari looked like she was ready to do a snatch and grab as the baby began to cry, but she was kept busy by having a bible shoved into her face. The ceremony was finally over, and they brought the baby of the hour to his after party. Apparently Ethiopia is slightly inspired by Mexico, as it is tradition to roll the newly Baptised baby up in their native injera bread like an adorable little baby burrito (I don’t remember seeing Anne Geddes have a baby in injera bread, but it could be a whole new craze). Biniyam busted out some major moves on the dancefloor, as he and his family rejoiced that the baby will no longer run the risk of going to hell. Ariela seemed to be enjoying this “happy moment”, though next week looks like another freakout is on the horizon.
Deavan & Jihoon: Deavan was yelling at Jihoon about the messy state of their apartment, as everyone knows it’s always Jihoon’s fault. Realizing that her mother, Elicia, was coming over to see the new place, he stepped it up and cleaned, as he suffers from EP (Elicia phobia). After some inspecting, Elicia gave the new apartment her stamp of approval, recognizing that it was a major upgrade from the last. Meanwhile, I was glad to see that BamBam the puppy was still amongst the living, as he ran to Deavan’s sister, much like any hostage would in that type of situation. Jihoon explained to Deaven’s parents that he wanted to partake in the ancient Korean tradition of “Hahm”, which involved giving them a Korean box in exchange for their wedding blessing. Although Deavan’s parents were mostly confused and thought he just wanted to eat ham, they obliged. Deavan (who thinks she’s a big shot with her Korean cultural knowledge now that she went to the Korean toilet museum) participated in the ceremony by hiding in the closet. About an hour later, Jihoon and his friends from the picnic (but not the Kpop friend, he was way too cool to be caught dead doing this) showed up wearing some kind of freeze dried squids scotch taped to their faces. Apparently this “Silence of the Squids'' mask was to ward off evil spirits. Jihoon also stomped on a “gourd bowl” (whatever the hell that was),and everyone just smiled and nodded. Jihoony presented his in-laws with the Hahm box, and they were shocked to see it was a few tchotchkes instead of the non kosher Honeybaked Ham they thought they were getting. After the box presentation, it was time for Jihoon to search all 400 square feet of the apartment to try and find Deavan (hopefully BamBam is better at hiding). The couple were so happy about how the visit and ceremony went, and Jihoon celebrated by eating his own face-squid (I guess the mask is the ancient Korean version of an edible candy necklace…) After all of the squid shenanigans, Deavan had a moment alone with her mother to try on her wedding dress, which was actually really pretty with a pink underlay. The two discussed all of the improvements Jihoon has made since the last visit, as well as how far they have come as a couple, especially in the wake of a difficult situation. Elicia seems to approve of their marriage for now, feeling like Deavan seems slightly less miserable than usual.
Cheesestick & Melyza: Tim decided that since he is low on funds and Melyza still hates him (albeit slightly less), he’s going to have to go back stateside. Malaria seemed angry that he had made the decision to go back without discussing it with her first, but ffhrifdusjkfhnksdsfdjdh… oh sorry, I feel asleep on the keyboard. Anyway, he’s moving back to the U.S. so he can work on “coming back to her”, and they’re both worried the other one is going to cheat. Good talk. Next up, it was time for Tim to pack up his junk and head to the airport. The couple has another excruciating conversation about their relationship status, confessing that they love each other enough to make the distance work. They then had to pack up the tiny car (which Melyza could probably sell in Ethiopia for like $80,000), and head out to the airport. They said their final goodbyes with tears in their eyes, not fully knowing if they will ever see each other again. I wish them all the best…..now get off of my tv.
submitted by EricaShmericaOFF to 90DayFiance [link] [comments]


2020.11.24 01:23 Maddox_Hendrick_Lake Mom caught me naked

Hello everyone! Excuse me, but in the event after having re-read this chapter and having decided that it was dribble, I have made some changes. The plot of the chapter is the same, but I made some changes to the writing.

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I was starting to feel drowsy, and my stomach turned. I assumed it must have been from the berries I had so voraciously gobbled up earlier. At first, the feeling made me even more afraid… for my life, since the berries might have been poisonous. But then, you can't die in a dream, or so they say, so if the nauseous feeling didn't go away, and I did in fact fall asleep... maybe I'd wake up. Maybe, but after a few minutes, I found myself violently vomiting all over the place, so hard that it hurt, and it kept going for several minutes, until I found myself covered in blood and puke and crying on the side of the trail.
I could hear the bird repeating the sounds of my vomiting and crying, and I cried until there were no tears left in my eyes, and they were raw from rubbing them. By the time my ears caught the faint sound of voices in the distance, I was probably a pretty sorry sight. At first I dismissed them as noises from the forest, but as they got closer, I noticed that the same phrase was, in point of fact, not being repeated over and over again, but rather, a fully fledged conversation was being held between what sounded like at least three people. The only catch was, they were obviously not speaking English.
The language they were speaking sounded kind of like… I don’t even know. It sounded made up, and kind of harsh some of the time. There were a lot of hard, rolling Rs, but also a lot of throat action going on. There was also a lot of “sh” and “zh”, but no nasally vowels like in French. One of the voices broke out into song—a weird, tonguey song with a lot of Rs in it that was also fast-going and kind of emphatic. It reminded me of Native American tribal music, but it didn't quite sound the same.
“Hey!” My throat was so dry that even saying that felt like my vocal chords were vibrating against glass.
The mime repeated my call somewhere in the trees above me, but more importantly, the talking stopped briefly. It was quickly followed up by some whispering that I couldn't make out, then the mime echoed my calling again, which had to have been confusing them.
“Help!” I cried, “Where are you?”
No one answered. Instead, I heard the plants of the understory swishing about, as though they were running toward me. I could tell that they were coming from the other side of the trail, and so I got up and ran to meet them—all bloody and limping and covered in puke. I ran through the trees for about a minute, and was surprised to hear them still on their way until I saw the figures of people running some yards away to my left.
“HEY!” I bellowed, rooted to the ground where I stood.
One of them stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me. For a second, it occurred to me that I might have ‘fallen through time’, to borrow a phrase from Diana Gabaldon, because the way the guy was dressed… well, it didn’t look modern. He looked quite a bit like a Seminole Indian, what with his colorful, frilly clothes and his headscarf. He looked at me with radiant golden eyes which showed on the sun like a couple of coins. His skin was dark, but was that just because he spent a lot of time outside? Probably not. I could tell by his silver mustache that he was an older fellow, maybe 60 or more, with the look of a man who had lived his entire life outside. His lean figure did a fair job at confusing his age, since at the time I was more used to elderly people being a little obese, but it didn't hide the leathery texture of his skin. He had long gray hair coming from the back of his turban, silver rings dangling from his outer ears, and an obvious green septim piercing that looked like it could have been made out of jade. He was wearing a brightly colored orange patterned shirt that dangled down to his lower thighs with light green frilly trim, and loose, dark red pants that went down just below his knees with no socks. His shoes were wooden, and almost looked like Dutch clogs, but more pointed and more ornately carved. Around his waste was an elaborate sash, on one side of which he had a knife with a handle that looked like it could've been made of antler, and on the other, I saw a decently sized bearded axe, while in his hand there was what at first seemed like a wooden staff. That is... until he started touching the tip of it to his face after having flipped the cover of a leathery pouch up to reveal some very long and ominous-looking darts—then it became apparent that it was a blowgun.
Now, this guy started barking in this funny language to his companions, one of whom stopped behind him, the other two had rushed ahead. In total, there were four of them, all in various states of dress and undress, all looking pretty primitive... or at least by my standards, which just made the whole scenario that much more confusing. The old man who stopped was the oldest of the bunch, after which there were two older adults, maybe 30 or more, and a teenager. One of the older adults had a brown leather shirt on, the other was bare-chested, and the teenager was wearing a vest but no shirt beneath it, sort of like Aladdin.
Maybe I HAD ‘fallen through time’. Was that even possible? The phrase went through my mind, recalling the book series my mom used to read to my brothers and I when we were little. These men looked... well, suffice it to say, they didn't look modern, or American for that matter. All of them had either blowguns or some other weird projectile device, their clothes looked medieval at best, and they all had feathers dangling off of some part of them. Maybe I had somehow, inadvertently traveled to Colonial North America? The only thing Claire Fraser and I had in common was that there was a stone circle in the equation, but beyond that our respective situations were entirely different. I’m not sure my mom would’ve read the books to us if they involved a scene like the one I woke up to, but then, we were little kids, and the more I thought about it the more it occurred to me that she probably left a lot of stuff out. Ok then, so… maybe I had ‘fallen through time’, right? There were just a few problems with that, though…
To be begin with, while I knew that some indigenous species had gone extinct upon European colonization like the Passenger Pigeon and the Carolina Parakeet, I knew that toothy birds, spotted cat-dog hybrids, and weird, creepy, foreboding, red-eyed demon-owls were not included in that list. Furthermore, the most vexing thing about it all wasn't even the animals I had seen, the forest I was in, or the language these three dudes were jabbering in. I know this might sound just a little bit racist, but... well, the men standing in front of me, dressed, and half-dressed, wearing feathers and animal tails? They were... ummm... well, they looked really weird, to my eye. Not what they were wearing or how they did their hair, but the actual features of their faces especially.
Only one of them had brown eyes (one of the middle-aged guys), while all of the others had extremely bright eyes, either gold or green. The old man’s hair was silver, but the older guys either had medium brown or dark brown hair, and the kid was a dirty blonde, despite the dark skin. When I say ‘dark’, I should clarify. They were either like really dark Arabs, or mildly dark Indians (I know South Indians can get really dark), but their facial features looked a little more European. At the same time, they had these really prominent brows, and their ears were, really, really odd. They seriously looked like hobbit ears. Smaller, sure, but more or less the same shape. I just kind of stood there, all pathetic-looking, until the old man walked right up to me and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me forward unexpectedly and jabbering in his rhotic language.
“I don't understand you, man.” I said, “I don't know what you're saying!”
The others had followed him by now. One of them seemed to be scolding the older one, obviously for being rough with me. He kept gesturing to me and then back to himself, almost as though he was trying to point out the obvious—I was naked, and covered in puke and blood. The older one let go of me, and this other one stood between the two of us. The phrase he kept saying, sounded like 'shukker, shukker', which of course meant nothing to me. After a brief interchange between the two men, the teenager started talking, but the older one seemed immediately dismissive of him. Still, he persisted, throwing his hands in the air and gesturing away from himself. For a second, the older one looked visibly pissed, but then the teenager started walking off, cursing as he went, and the old guy seemed repentant, calling him back with a sideways gesture of his hand.
“Guys...” I was almost whimpering, “... do you know where we are? I'm sorry, but I'm kinda lost...”
The kid turned around, looking at the old man with an expression that had 'I told you so' written all over it. There was a brief exchange between the two of them before the kid walked up to me and started talking. Again, I had no idea what the words meant, but his body language helped me get the gist of what he was saying. He touched his nose and his left eyebrow, and then his legs, and then he gestured at me. He was asking if I was hurt.
“Yeah, yeah!” I nodded my head, “I fell down in a stream, back that way.” I made a falling gesture with my hand and then a sort of flowing one that, admittedly as I made it reminded me of the dolphin gesture that kid had done with his hand in the music video to Rebecca Black’s song Friday, and then I pointed in the direction that I had come.
“Go kilír?” He said, touching his mouth and then his stomach as if to imply being sick.
I nodded my head again.
“I ate some berries...” I motioned toward one of the bushes next to me and then brought my hand to my mouth.
He seemed to get it.
“Tenjo!” he laughed; then he looked at the others, “Kukčażaḫal ru tetúndwaḫš, čele?”
“Čele, čele…” The others didn’t seem to be so sure.
They started chattering amongst each other for a couple of minutes, but this time I noticed various inflections of the same word being tossed around—tetund. It seemed to be able to have several different endings, but given the frequency with which it was being used in the conversation, I could only assume that it was the subject. The adults seemed to be very cautious, but the kid was very insistent. After a minute, one of the middle-aged guys, the one who was wearing a shirt decided to talk to me.
“Zu brut Praşanc?”
What?
“I don’t know.” I shook my head.
“Parlomo!” He scoffed.
The kid said something to him, and then he looked at me and touched his chest.
“Káralu.” He said.
I assumed that must be his name?
“Trynian.” I said, gesturing to myself.
“Chreenyan…” He mouthed it out slowly.
He seemed to be satisfied, and a witty smile spread across his face. The older guy made a throaty “blaaah” sound while opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue ever so slightly, sort of the way a lot of Mexicans do when they’re showing that they don’t care about something. The two others talked to the kid for a second while looking back and forth at him and then me, and then they all started walking.
“Soyer, soyer.” Káralu said, signaling at me to come with.
Was I insane? What the fuck was going on? I knew better than to think this was all a dream, but there was no other logical explanation for any of it. How did I get here? Where was ‘here’? Who were the people in the circle? Who were THESE people? Were they even people? Maybe that sounds kinda racist, but it wasn’t on account of their brown skin and their facial features that I was asking that question, but rather, it was their ears. The only place I had ever seen ears like that was in the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy, and those were movies, not reenactments of some set of historical events. My parents had often told me when I was little that I had a wild imagination, mostly on account of the way that my friends and I used to buy little pieces of leather and sword-shaped toothpicks from the store and paint it all up to give our action figures new armor and weapons, but this... I honestly couldn’t remember having had a dream this detailed, this layered, and this long. But you know… fuck it, right? This could only be a dream, and if that’s what it was, why not follow the nice Aladdin-kid with the funny ears? What did I have to lose?
The more I thought about it though, the more I was overcome with anxiety. What if I wasn’t dreaming at all? What if I had died and gone to Hell? I thought about the movie the ‘The Farmhouse’, in which a young couple is driving through the rural American Midwest and they crash their car. They find a nearby farmhouse where the owners offer to take them in, and end up brutally torturing them. Ring any bells? Anyways, they eventually realize that they died in the car accident at the beginning, and that they’re in Hell for having murdered their special-needs son, and I was beginning to think that maybe I was in a similar situation. Maybe I had fallen and broken my neck on the Dune of Doom, or maybe I had been dragged off in the middle of the night by that cougar. But, what did I do? Did it have something to do with the girl I had seen? She said, “I’m yours.” Maybe I killed her. But then, why was she dressed like that? Dress up, perhaps? Maybe I was a sick pervert who dressed girls up to murder them, and now I was in Hell for it. Maybe she wasn’t even the only one. What was that other movie… The Uninvited? The girl had killed her mom and her sister, and then realizes in the end that she’s an insane little murderess after stabbing her stepmom to death. How else was I supposed to explain the cultists in the circle, that creepy ass dog, or the old woman? I decided to stay put.
“Soyer!” Káralu laughed, signaling again with his hand, but I just stood there and shook my head no.
He called back to the other three men, who I was beginning to notice were related to him somehow or other, but they didn’t seem to think it was funny. The old man walked back up to me and grabbed me by the hair and started yelling at me, which made me wince and shrink under the thundering sound of his voice. When the kid tried to stop him, he barked at him through clenched teeth and pushed him away. The other two came up to me and grabbed both my arms and pinned me up against a nearby tree before I even realized what was happening, and the old man pulled out his axe. I immediately started to tearfully beg for my life.
“No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Please! No, please! Please! Wait a second! Just a second! PLEEEEEAAASE!!!!” I shouted, “Please! I’m sorry! I’ll go away! You don’t need to take me with you! Just, wait! Fuck!”
He didn’t care. His axe was out, and he was swinging it at my neck. I don’t really know how to describe having your life flash before your eyes like that. I could feel my heart racing, even faster than it had when I had confronted that animal back in Moqui Canyon, because this time I knew for sure this was it. I felt my muscles tense up, and it felt like every vain in my body was about to burst. This was while he was lifting his axe, but while he was swinging it, I oddly began to relax, and the panic that had momentarily overwhelmed me began to dissipate. I closed my eyes, and I probably pulled a stupid face, but I was saying a quick prayer in my head, Grant me mercy oh Lord! Into thy hands, I deliver my spirit!
Right as the axe was coming down, Káralu threw himself between the old man and I and screamed at him, “Mąhangau koi tetúnd! Vuḫąj go nušuš čele! Merpírširįj!!!”
There was that word again.
“Šarer!” The old man tried to push him out of the way again.
“Čele! Go šarer!” He yelled.
The two of them got into a very heated argument while the other two held me against the tree, despite my struggling. The old man decided to hit me in the nuts with the butt of his axe to incapacitate me, which worked pretty well. The other two let me fall to the ground, cupping my aching package while the kid and him had it out. The kid was starting to cry, and he was gesturing to himself as though to say to kill him instead, which seemed very strange given the circumstances. Or maybe he was asking that they let me live for his sake, which then begged the question as to why he was so concerned with my wellbeing, if that was indeed the case. Whatever it was, the old man sheathed his axe and then grabbed Káralu by his vest and pulled him close to his face, hissing at him through clenched teeth again and pointing a crooked finger in his face. “Čuhangoné ru vanuwarųk gon, Káralu, kisir? Ru vanuwarųk GON!” He said.
He said something else before letting him go pretty roughly and storming off, yelling vanuwarųk gon as he went. The other two followed him, and Káralu looked back down at me with pity in his green eyes and then squatted down to help me up. Honestly, I was scared shitless, but he seemed pretty sincere, what with the way he was rubbing my back as if to soothe me, so I decided to follow him this time. I mean… last time hadn’t gone so well, right?
They led me through the woods back to the trail, from whence we continued for about an hour until I started to hear what sounded like the ocean. Soon thereafter, the trail turned sharply downward, alternating between sections that were obviously well-traveled by humans and animals and steep declines where the twisted roots of the trees made for a series of makeshift ladders. By the time the trail flattened, it seemed that most of the strange fungi that I had seen further uphill had all but disappeared, and the trunks and branches of the trees were covered in moss. The canopy had also opened up, and I could see a clear blue sky overhead, although it didn’t offer that much warmth. I could tell by the way there were still the remains of a number of dead trees, both standing and fallen, that this was an old-growth forest, not one that had been exploited in some time, probably a couple of centuries, if not more. I could only think of a handful of locations like that in the United States, and I hadn’t gone camping with my friends near any of them. Soon enough though, the forest opened up onto a very, very long beach. Long as in, there was a considerable distance between us and the water, and a way’s away, between us and the water were a bunch of tents, maybe about thirty or so, some colorful, some not. Between the tents and the water, where the sand was still dry were a bunch of extremely colorful and ornately decorated ships that looked a hell of a lot like Viking ships.
Cultists in a stone circle, an old growth forest, toothed birds, a cat-dog hybrid, poisonous berries, and a blonde yet still dark-skinned Aladdin whose grandpa tried to cut my head off. I remember looking back up at the trail behind me and wishing I could run back into the woods. But then, I also remember just telling myself that all I needed to do was make it to a bed and go back to sleep so I could wake up on the other side. Was I dreaming? Was I dead? Or maybe I was I just insane? I didn’t know what the future held, and all I could do was live moment to moment while Frank Mitchell and company led me down to their quaint little camp.
submitted by Maddox_Hendrick_Lake to GayShortStories [link] [comments]


2020.11.24 01:23 Maddox_Hendrick_Lake Naked me caught mom

Hello everyone! Excuse me, but in the event after having re-read this chapter and having decided that it was dribble, I have made some changes. The plot of the chapter is the same, but I made some changes to the writing.

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“I'm yours...” The voice of the girl said.
I saw her face again when my eyes had shut. That cold face staring back at me with those lavender eyes, drawing her finger along the scar that ran the breadth of her throat. An almost blinding light shined behind her, and a woman sang softly in the background. The girl seemed to get more distant with every note, until she had disappeared behind its pale rays. The voice was smooth and full, and the song was calm but… sad, like something you’d expect to hear at a funeral. I felt the warmth of the first light of an early morning sun on my face, though it stung my eyes as I opened them, so I rolled over on my side. I was wet, but though I could feel the chill of a breeze, the wetness I felt was warm, almost as if I had sweat out a fever in the middle of the night and now found myself without a blanket. I rolled over, my bare skin seemed to cling to the cold, hard surface that I was laying on, and between that, the daylight and the sound of the woman singing I found myself unable to get back to sleep. I reached for my sleeping bag, assuming that Matt had hogged the entire thing, but instead I found myself grasping a handful of disembodied hair. I shook myself awake. My friends must have been playing some sort of a practical joke, and I was ready to scold them. “Guys… what the—“
My words were cut short. I felt a wrinkled palm on my cheek, and when I opened my eyes I saw the sun shining on the face of an old man looking down at me with a grandfatherly smile spread across a thickly bearded face. He must’ve been 70 or more, with dark eyes like a couple of black marbles beneath a drooping brow. “Şperzat Candata! Şperzat.” He said, “Lainet če şaştą tais uoces!”
I pulled away from him and sat up. I’m still dreaming, I thought. I had to be, right? I mean, I was certainly having trouble telling the dream from reality at this point, and he wasn’t anyone I recognized, not off the top of my head, anyways. I didn’t understand a word he was saying, either. Hell, the language he was speaking didn’t even sound familiar. I looked around and saw four people were standing around me, all elaborately dressed in draping white robes. Besides the old man there were two middle aged men on either side of me and an old woman. The men’s beards were curled, and beneath them I saw a series of large and intricate gold gorgets hanging from their necks and down their chests. Two of them had these strange, almost Egyptian veils over their hair, while the woman had her hair done in two enormous braids on either side from which hung a hundred tiny bells that rang as she moved. They were all smiling at me, patting me on the back, like I was a relative waking up at the hospital. “Vailso!” They said, whatever that meant.
Was this another dream? It seemed real enough. I’ve always been something of a vivid dreamer, but dreams don’t normally come with fully fledged environments, and you as the dreamer don’t control the narrative. The dream always moves on, whether you want to go in the direction its going or not, and while there might be people or things in the background, there is always a central focus, and you don’t determine what it is. To the contrary, here I was on a stone slab in the middle of a circle of standing stones surrounded by… whoever these people were. Overhead I could see a rich canopy of ancient trees whose branches meandered about overhead, their twisted trunks coated with fungi and their roots snaking about the ground. I was NOT in the desert anymore, that much was clear. I could hear the calls of what might have been birds all around me. One was a low booming sound, while others sounded like screeches and screams. The sun showed very clearly on all of us, and yet I still felt a chilling numbness in my toes and fingers. I realized I was naked, and feeling a little embarrassed I brought my legs up to sit in the fetal position to cover myself, but when I did what I saw was enough to whip anyone into a panicked frenzy—they were spattered with blood.
In fact, I was covered in blood; blood and hair, to be precise. My eyes widened, and I noticed that in the old man’s right hand was a large and ominous knife whose blade was so thickly coated with it that it shown completely red in the light. I felt a surge of panic overwhelm me as I started to scream and fight to get off the slab I was laying on. Dream or not, this was NOT ok. The only frame of reference I had for what was happening was late night talk at sleepovers about Satanic cults and the movie ‘Eyes Wide Shut’, which I had stayed up late one night with Derek and Lyanna to watch when I was 12. The second I tried to move however, all four of them started trying to shush me, to calm me down. The woman was petting my hair, the men were trying to hold me, but the more they tried to console me the more hysterical I got. I couldn’t understand anything they were saying, and it didn’t matter—their intent was pretty clear. My mind raced, but whatever direction my thoughts went they kept going back to that girl with the lavender eyes, and the way she ran her finger across her throat. Tears were flowing down my cheeks. I started to scream, to cry and beg for my life.
“NOOOOO!!!! NOOOOO!!! PLEEAASE!!!! STOOOP!!! LET ME GO!!! LET ME FUCKING GO!!! PLEASE!” I cried.
I was scared out of my fucking mind. Right about then the old man did something that shocked me so much that I remember sitting there frozen, just staring into his dark old eyes for at least a minute afterward—he very clearly told the other’s to stop. I mean… I didn’t understand the words, but the meaning was clear. He spread his arms between me and the others and said something very forcefully, and they all backed away from me, himself included. He held the knife in the air and dropped it. For some reason, he too had tears in his eyes, and he spoke softly, almost penitently in his strange and melodic language as he fell to his knees. It was like he was asking for my forgiveness, and before I knew it all of them were following suit. I wanted to get up and run, but as I looked around for my escape, well… where was I going to go?
The old man seemed to be pleading with me, as if to assure me that he wasn’t going to hurt me, and oddly enough I felt my heartbeat beginning to slow, as if I was slowly coming to believe him. I wanted to ask him who he was and where we were, but I couldn’t find the words. This is a dream. It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real! There’s no way this is real. It’s ok. The thought was on the tip of my tongue, but even as my lips parted I knew better. I knew that I was awake. I had to be. The cold in my fingers and my toes hurt, I could feel the blood sticking to my skin and the itch of the hair that was mixed in with it. This was real… somehow. I jumped to my feet, but the old man only held his hands out in the air and bowed his head. He was quiet now, and I could hear the sounds of the forest around us more clearly. I heard a sound like scissors cutting through fabric that sent a chill down my spine, and then a loud scream like a woman being stabbed. I turned right around and got the hell out of Dodge. Where to? I had no idea... away. That’s all that mattered in the moment.
They called out after me as I went, but I wasn’t listening. I almost tripped when a camouflaged bird sprang up from the forest understory as I ran, but I kept on going until I slipped and fell face first into the shallow, freezing water of a rocky stream. I wasn't cold enough to be entirely numb yet, and the pain that went through all the areas of impact was sharp and powerful, enough so to have me screaming. My face especially hurt, and I could taste blood in my mouth, but my ankle also ached pretty bad, and so too did the end of my foreskin after having been smashed between my leg and the cold rocks of the stream. Fortunately, there were no cuts down there, but it still hurt something fierce.
“Fuuuuuuuck!” I screamed as I sat up, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking, fuck! FUCK!”
It occurred to me then that the people in the stone circle might be following me, and I was right. I heard them running through the underbrush behind me. “Candata! Candata!” They shouted.
I didn’t know what that meant, and I didn’t care. I tried to run across the stream, but I kept slipping as the water got deeper and the current stronger, which just had me cursing and crying even louder. The water was up over my waist by then, and it was so cold I could hardly feel anything below it. As I struggled I noticed something at the water's edge staring back at me, the sight of which might have been enough to stop me in my tracks had it not disappeared after meeting my stare for only a second. The best way I could describe it is as having looked like a dog and a bobcat in one animal, except the spots on its sandy brown coat didn't look like a bobcat’s and it had three stripes running the length of its back. It was one thing to have woken up in a megalithic circle surrounded by strange robed people, one of whom was holding a bloody knife. It was another to see… whatever this thing was. Why? I don’t know. I mean, they were people, and while who they were, what they were doing and how I ended up in the middle of a forest made absolutely no sense, seeing animals that don’t exist made even less sense.
I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, my ankle be damned. The cultists in their white robes had disappeared, and the forest was getting thicker, getting louder and wilder as I went. The light that peaked through the canopy contrasted various gray, red, yellow, and even purple lichens that made a sort of patchwork on the meandering trunks and branches that were otherwise covered in thick, yellowish moss. All over the ground were wet, rotting leaves, and weird, eery-looking fungi. One of them looked like red, wrinkly hands grasping the roots where I spotted it, and another one looked like hairy white faces springing out from the leaves. Was this a temperate rainforest? It sure as shit looked like one, and not like one I had ever seen, either. Where was Derek? Where were my friends? My mind wandered as I went, and I remembered the hoarse words of the old woman in my dream. I had been asked to come here… whatever that meant, and wherever ‘here’ was. I remembered asking about my friends, and I remembered her answer, “What about them? They aren’t being asked, are they?”
My heart sank. Wherever I was, I knew that they weren’t here with me. I was alone. I wanted to cry out for help, but who would hear me? Those people? The animals? No, I had to keep moving. I must have ran for an hour or more. I didn’t know I could run that fast or that long, and with a fucked up ankle no less, but I ran until I collapsed on the muddy shore of another stream, my lungs about to burst. I remember just laying there for a while, gasping for air. I figured that the cultists had to have been gone by then, and even if they weren’t I was so spent they might as well have had me. As I laid there I remember seeing the blood on my legs again, and so I frantically started feeling myself for wounds. Nothing. My only injuries were the ones I had sustained when I fell in the stream, and a few cuts and bruises here and there from racing naked through the brush. I distinctly remember plugging my ears and opening and closing my eyes over and over and over again, as if I could drown out the sight and the sound of everything around me and in so doing I would wake up back in the desert, snuggled up next to my best friend. No luck.
It had been some time since I had prayed, but I couldn’t think of much else to do, so I found my lips mouthing the standard opening of a Mormon prayer, “Dear Heavenly Father, we’re thankful for this day—“ my prayer was interrupted by a loud, low hiss. What… is that? I thought.
Jumping backward in front of me was what at first glance looked like a bird. Long, scaly, rail-like legs, a green, feathery body, with a cream-colored head and folded up wings. In some encyclopedia somewhere when I was a kid, I had read something along the lines of ‘the general rule of classification being: if it has feathers, it's a bird’, and certainly the way I had been brought up, that made sense. On closer examination however, what I was looking at couldn't have been a bird by one simple fact of its anatomy—it had teeth. Modern birds do not have teeth, by rule of their being modern birds, and yet the animal I was looking at, which was making a serious fuss the way it was hissing and bobbing its head from side to side on its long, crane-like neck, had a mouth full of them.
I stood up. It jumped and let out another spitting hiss in response, spreading its green wings wide and flapping slowly, the way a pissed off goose or swan might. It continued bobbing its head. It’s not real, I told myself. I knew better, but it felt better to think it. I had seen ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ and ‘The Ninth Gate’. I liked the movie 'Inception', and we had all seen 'Jurassic Park’ as kids. I was immediately reminded of how Connor had complained about how the featured dinosaurs in the new ‘Jurassic Park’ movies weren’t depicted as feathered. My teeth falling out, a furry animal companion, a creepy girl, white-robed occultists bent on sacrificing me and a feathered dinosaur meant subconscious thoughts about 'Inception' plus ‘Eyes Wide Shut’ plus 'Jurassic Park’, and maybe a little ‘Outlander’… I mean, my mom had read me the books as a kid. Put it all together and you have one crazy ass multi-layered dream. It certainly made more sense than any of it actually being real, didn't it?
“Fuck off!” I yelled, stepping forward in the mud.
The bird-dinosaur lunged forward at me, meeting my challenge with an attempted nip at my Johnson that made me kick it as hard as I could in the chest instinctively. It caught a good nip at my leg mid-air before tumbling down on its side, after which it scrambled to its feet and jumped into flight, disappearing into the trees. I sat back down on the shore, so cold I was shivering, and assessed my situation. First of all, I had no gear… or clothes. I remembered the movie 'Six Days Seven Nights', when Anne Heche's character asked Harrison Ford about his wilderness skills, referencing the ability to build a shopping maul with a pocket knife and a queue tip. If I had had a pocket knife, and was on familiar terrain, I definitely fell into that category... normally. My dad and brothers and I had spent so much time in the wilderness hunting when I was little that a pocket knife was all I needed to get a fire going and a shelter built. Hell, I even knew how to tan deer skin into leather. But I didn't have a pocket knife, I didn't have anything sharp besides my teeth. I knew precious little about stone tools, but even if I had known more, I couldn't have told you which woods in the forest around me were good for the different parts of a fire kit. I was hungry too, and I assumed that out of all of the different kinds of mushroom I saw around me, one of them had to be edible. But, which one? Or were there more than one? That was a question that meant the difference between sustenance, and dying a slow death, while possibly hallucinating. So where did that leave me? Naked, shivering on the shore, bleeding from my face, hands, my shin and knees, and it was only a matter of time before a predator caught the sent of my blood trailing around the forest. I needed to find people… people who didn’t want to cut my throat. As scared as I was that they might find me, I knew my best bet was to follow the stream. Why? Because people, like animals, are attracted to water. I might run into a campsite, or some people refilling their water bottles, if I was lucky.
The water got continually deeper as I went, and louder. So loud that it almost blocked out the background noise of the forest. I noticed some more oddities as well, namely, funny-looking birds flying between the branches of the trees, and something that at first glance I thought was an owl perched on a branch above me. On closer inspection, I saw it didn't have a beak, but it lacked the long snout of the ‘dinosaur’ I had encountered earlier (I guess birds are technically dinosaurs, right?). It had a short snout, with visible, interlocking teeth that gave it an especially macabre appearance that was complimented by big eyes with red irises. It looked... evil. It was an evil looking little animal, that besides its evil-looking face looked rather a lot like a bird while it sat there, though it didn't seem bothered by me at all. It didn't even make a sound. It just stared at me with big, ominous red eyes as I passed under it, turning its evil head all the way around to follow me as I did.
The sun slowly rose to the center of the sky, which helped to warm me up a little, but it also illuminated the deep water contrasting the large black shapes of what looked like fish that were lying still at the bottom. One of them looked as long as I was, and so I didn't dare set foot in the water after that. I also found some berries that looked vaguely like hairy raspberries, but they tasted so bitter that I spat them out at first. Of course, I knew better than to gobble up strange plants in the woods, so I filled my hands with as many as I could as I walked, holding them first to my lips for three minutes, and then to my tongue for fifteen, counting each second as I did. When I was satisfied with the lack of any kind of a bad reaction, I hoovered them all in about a minute.
After I had finished, I noticed a small, stone, triangular-arched bridge ahead of me. That was definitely a sign of human presence, at least somewhere in the area. I had to have walked for another hour to find that bridge. My heart could have leaped out of my chest with joy at the sight of it. I ran for it immediately, climbing up the steep shoreline to find the road that the bridge was presumably a part of, but… well, I wasn't impressed. The 'road' was more of a path, and when I say 'path', it actually didn't even look that much like a path, but a trail... an animal trail. Still, amongst the various different kinds of peculiar animal footprints, I was able to make out the impression of shoe prints, or at least what looked like them, what with their size and the lack of distinguishable toes, and they looked fairly recent, so I decided to follow them. What else could I do? I ran down that trail for what seemed like hours, screaming for help until I had no voice left to speak at all. The running helped to heat my body up, so much so that I actually broke a sweat, but I had to run with a limp, since it didn't help to alleviate the aching in my knees or the stinging in my ankle. After a while, I noticed that the tracks I was following had disappeared. Somewhere along the way, they must have gone off into the woods, and I had failed to notice. I had been too busy screaming and watching the road ahead of me and the woods around me.
“Fuck!” I screamed, “Mother fuck an asshole! FUCK!”
“Mother fuck an asshole! FUCK!”
I shot to attention—that was a human voice.
“Hello?” I shouted, my voice raspy and dry from all the yelling I'd been doing, “Where are you?”
“Hello?” The voice echoed back.
“Hello! I'm here on the trail! Where are you?” I called back.
“I'm here on the trail! Where are you?” What the fuck? Was this a joke?
“Where are you?” I yelled.
“Where are you?” It yelled back.
It almost sounded like it was coming from above me, so I looked up in the branches that wound overhead for the person who was obviously toying with me.
“Hello!” I yelled, “This isn't funny! I'm lost! I need help! Please!”
“Hello! This isn't funny!” It yelled, “I'm lost! I nid ep! Pease!”
The last part seemed to be missing some consonants, and my heart started to sink. Contrary to popular thought on the matter, I knew the world to be filled with a variety of birds that could imitate human speech. Parrots of course, but crows and magpies came to mind in the context of my situation. But, every time I had heard a crow or a magpie imitate a person, it had sounded really high, and sometimes kind of nasally. This voice sounded—the more I thought about it—quite a bit like mine, so I decided to give it one more try.
“What's your name?” I yelled, enunciating every sound.
“What's your name?” Came the response.
It sounded exactly like me. That wasn't a person at all.
“Shit!” I yelled, kicking dirt with my good foot.
“Shit!” I heard the mime yell in return.
I was beginning to feel pretty fuckin' hopeless, but also pretty fuckin' angry at the same time, so I decided to sit down for a minute and gather myself. My mind was spinning. I had no reasonable explanation for my situation, and I also had no visible way of rectifying it. I was alone, in a really fucking weird forest, that also happened to be cold, and I was absolutely and totally helpless. I was terrified, and also feeling pretty sorry for myself. I remembered the voice that had told me I was invited, and the people in their robes. What were they saying? Why were they so happy to see me? Where did all that blood come from if not from me? I didn’t see anything or anyone else around with us in the stone circle. I don't want to be here. I changed my mind. I want to go home. I want to wake up! The words screamed in my head. After a while I said them aloud, only to hear what I assumed was a bird repeating them back to me.
“Wake up, dude.” I said to myself, quietly, so the mime couldn't hear me, “Please, wake up.”
submitted by Maddox_Hendrick_Lake to GayShortStories [link] [comments]


2020.11.23 04:31 Div_Dad_of2 Mom naked me caught

Very long - This narrative is compelling sadley too typical towards a man's intuition. Please share and comment (I know what I need to do; others may not):
Disclaimer: First and foremost, if you can ever relate to the comfort of knowing you were right about anything that triggered your "Spidey sense", this post should be a great read, and a wake up call to all of us good men that think we are doing everything right (flowers without earning them, gifts and payment, etc.,..
If you think this way, you need to change your beliefs, your actions and behaviors, because what I am pushing here will prove that your thoughts, feelings, questions of your significant others are not what they seem.
Background: I, a.M(42) have been dating this woman, F(48) and at the time of potential incident she was 44 where I was 38. The following are facts that have transpired since our courtship:
Met her on Okcupid and initially hit it off. She however had her life going on and I was just getting out of a lengthy relationship where my ex-wife of 10 yrs, and I had finalized our legal agreements, so I was back out on the market with my safe old ways (being a stupid beta bitch).
The story:
Moving away from my ex-wife, I was at a point in my life where I was transotioning with my life and had been cleared to move forward with potential dating opertunities without fear of being penalized (military UCMJ issues rectified).
So I romantically invited this woman (Subj-44 year old) to a professional event as my date (Ball in late Oct for a Nov event) and she accepted. We enjoyed a night of bliss, sex and early morning conversation(s) as we had a very nice brunch and continued on to a normal grown up encounter. However....
Being a newly indoctrinated batechlor, I paid it no mind and was thankful to the enjoyable evening (needing a win in the sex column).
However, after brunch, she went on about her way, and I the same. Going for a run and workout, not paying it no mind.
At the time I was attending a course that I had to travel back for and it was over 3 1/2 hour drive.
Guy talk in class, we all celebrated a successful first date and drifted away from the topic at hand until... A few sexy pics along with an invite for the following weekend at her mom's for her sister's bday. The gentlemen's I was with conveyed that I excersise caution... I didn't listen.
First date details: So the date occured on Oct 30th, the next week's date.was on 5 Nov. I was smitten, and in need of more self soothing which was expected to be a sure thing. As the guys try to convincee to excersise caution, I am obviously thinking with the wrong head.
So just prior to the weeks classes and multiple text messages, I confirm the second date.at.her mother's home where I was sure to meet her family.
Not scared, I accept and attended; stayed with her, we fucked again, and again... Life is good right....?
Well, all of these things that I was cautioned of came to a head, so I start the Interview process... Everything seems to check out.... except over the next few weeks I start to get these weird feelings, long responses, time travel, etc.
Flashback: She immediately tells me about her recent ex BF that was crazy, right...
Then I find out she's on Alprazolam and found condoms in her nightstand because that's what men do when they've been.cheated on right (the night stand on the side where I was sleeping for the weekend).
Regardless, I dismiss this as just non of business.right?..it was everything.
Then, I get my kids the next weekend, and she had two events that have always stuck out to me and were noted in my calendar, so they have been there for a while.
The first: she was watching one of her friends (a dude she used to fuck) dogs for a couple of days that I learned she had fucked this dude prior to us meeting, and he was just a friend ("just a friend right"...). That night (Nov 3rd - two days before I got there) she was out with this guy for approximately 3 1/2 hrs, at a bar, then she came home with an excuse after I had texted herultiple te, bit not too much, because that shouldn't matter right?. Finally she got home after midnight and had an excuse that she fell asleep.... Riiiiiiight..
The second, which was just discovered (today I found this out) because of her secondary hidden, gmail acct.
She drove to the area where her ex lover lived (over 3 hrs away) on Nov 9th 2016.
The third, was being that I was able to discover that she was using a separate acct.that on her way home from visiting me in WV when I took my kids home to my parents home. On her way home she stopped by his house on December 22nd where the drive home.was only 4 1/2.hrs.and it took her over 8 1/2 hrs to get where she was home safe. The Google map data is undeniable.
The real shitty thing about this was that after the Nov 9th event I confirmed today, (3 days after her suspected encounter, she told me she had an STD, right...?
OKAY, - NOW of I had been with anyone except my ex-wife, so there's no way she could spin it that I have it to her.
But I truly believe it was her ex that gave it to her, or some random person (being online dating etc., etc.).
Days after I learn she went to an unscheded Dr. Appointment where I just figured it was a routine thing, and that we were so new in the relationship, who cares right?
Then she came back (with results) and she told me she tested for chlamydia.
So she encourages me to go get tested; now I go do the test and it came back negitive.... the odd part is now I believe our first encounter (no protection) bad on me, and the following weekend for her sister's birthday (no protection), then I discover the dates she was with her ex after, and then all of a sudden it was abstinence because of her period. I'm cool with that, but as soon as I she got the results and mine, you could tell it was like she was trying to make sure it wasn't me.
Fucking strange because I hadn't been with anyone other than my ex wife and that was a 10 year monogamous relationship.
Provided to her the proof, (i.e. document of negitive findings) and I just chalked it up to her lifestyle vs mine and she was probably a little bit of a whore.
No worries, this was just the kind of girl I needed to transition from my fucked up marriage. A promiscuous chick who puts out on the first date; tattoos, hair dresser, etc.... you know all of the key indicators on the "crazy / hot matrix".
However, she then invites me to her family's place in New York for Thanksgiving, I was like sure, I'll give this a chance, maybe she isn't like that and I would love to be proven wrong.
The problem is, this is where I believe she was acting out her chameleon ways, because what I recently found points to her being with her ex ex on Nov 9th and a friend with benefits on Nov 3rd.
Looking back it's almost like she had zero idea who gave it to her and she was waiting at the finish line with the Negitive Test results. So I guess I'm the safe bet right? Stable career, fit, good looking and genuinely a nice guy, easy to manipulate... Wrong!
After the holidays things were great; we had been to her families house in NYC for Thanksgiving, and I felt that I was just being paranoid due to my trama from my marriage, and that I need to give it a chance, plus I knew I had no business dating that serious until after my divorce was final (one year rule).
However, I was a good, reliable guy... a respectable miliary careerist. I was focused on my kids and was striving to make every effort to be with them and had zero intentions of introducing them to her because I didn't know where that was going.
So I go home with them (my two boys) for the Christmas break. A good 4 and a half hours from where she lives in D.C. Low and behold, she makes the trip up one evening and got a hotel room just to spend time with me (since I was very firm on not letting her close to my kids yet).
She stays for two nights and I make an effort to break away with my mother doing Christmas cookies and stuff with the kids.
However, I recently found that her 4.5 he trip home lasted almost 12 hours.
Discovering also that she deleted her map data (or turned off her location) in an attempt to not be discovered. The irony is she's pretty reliant on her phone GPS when driving so she needed to turn it on to find her way home.
The problem is she turned it on, 200 ft. From this dude's house. Either she did a fly-by, or to missing hours were there with him (I'll take my chances that she wasn't there to just chit chat).
Then... Two months after, she tells me she had herpes.
I was in shock!
She tells me because I think she got it from this dude, So I go back to the lab and tested for this now.... And prove that I am not infected.
Main Idea: My point and questions are that I have had suspicious questions that she had something going on then, which have burned suspicious activities now.
But when I found her secondary acct (google) I was able to pinpoint the locations of where she was on her timeline back at the early points of our relationship that I never thought were there.
This includes all of her search history and locations, texts, the works. A factor that she semlessly hid with a single letter difference in her profile, that when I explained that to her before, she said she had two and brushed it aside.
Pretty canny too, creating a profile with such a slight change at a glance you would never had noticed (adding two I vice.one - uu vs u).
I feel like an idiot; I almost asked her to marry me, and then revolted at her suggestions for commitment years later.
Being that I now have this information and have been adamantly focused on her actions, keeping her in check, there is still this underlining distrust that I need to address. I also feel the relationship becoming resentful because I do ask a lot of questions, and I do now track her location and have access to her phone.
I have focused a lot of my attention on her and her issues; forgoing my own, and I have sufferede heavily with a mental steess of my own that I have continue to battle (betweeny own issues and dealing with hers).
I am pretty observant, my issues are that I don't know how to confront her about these issues, and feel that she thinks I'm paranoid about here being "free And spirit that needs to not be channeled" which is being now used against me that she's ready to settle down and think she knows everything because of her life experiences.
I have zero invested with her, financially. We fly rent (because of my career), we have paid debt and I feel like she's trying to get me to marry her for her own betterment as I am her free ticket to a stable life.
How do I approach this situation with a clear head...?
Yes everyone can say dump the bitch you have zero obligation, but it's a little different when you have vested time, my kids now know her, our stuff is close to being considered common law marriage and her mother is a very established attorney.
Handling this with kid gloves is what I'm really looking for, so anyone with guidance I really appreciate your assistance.
All points lead to someone I can't trust, but she now thinks her past must have been forgotten because it's now been years, and I feel she thinks she gotten away with a crime that someone like me was ready and waiting to unfold - I don't forget shit.
Caveat:. I have caught her taking naked pictures of herself (without proof of sendinging them to who knows what social media type accts);.searching for the same two guys on FB and/or IG, and after reviewing same she has denied to recall/ remember my call-outs to questioning.
Blame shifting and she has told me I am insecure and have issues from my past, gasslighting at best, unscathed by her emotional deception as I knew years ago something was up then, I just didn't have the opertunity or assets or time until now to truly deep dive this exhausting journey.
submitted by Div_Dad_of2 to cheating_stories [link] [comments]


2020.11.23 02:27 anojrlll A post that I found no DeviantArt

Leon yawned and stretched before exiting the comfort of his bed. His clock read 12:23pm, which was earlier than he'd been waking up for the past week. Summer break had just kicked off and Leon was enjoying the simplicity of not having shit to do. He yawned and stretched some more as he walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth. While brushing he stared at himself in the mirror, clad in only his boxers. He felt his hard on throbbing and pushing against his underwear, and saw it clearly in his reflection. Sighing, he thought back to the dream he woke up from moments before that gave him such an insistent erection.
He was looking at a girl with an hourglass figure and a toned midsection. She was thick in the thighs and especially her ass. The girl was naked, taller than him, and Leon could see the supple flesh of her butt cheeks in all its glory. Her dark hair was tied in a ponytail, and it swished sideways as she turned to look at him with a warm smile. She outstretched her arms and beckoned him to her, exposing her breasts and taking a step towards him. Leon, also naked, strode quickly to her. She enveloped him in a soft embrace, kissing him and pushing her tongue into his mouth while pulling the back of his head to hers with one hand. Her other hand pulled his to her backside, pushing it inside the crack of her ass and almost inside her asshole. Suddenly, she grabbed his hair and pulled his head backwards, holding his bottom lip with her teeth. She grinned playfully and contorted her face as she grunted slightly. Leon's hand felt a warmth surround it as she passed wind, and the girl brought it out of her ass and to his face. Just as he was about to inhale the dream ended and he woke up.
Leon was haunted by the sexiness of his dream girl, and so was his penis. The erection wouldn't go away, but he didn't want to masturbate yet because he'd have to shower right after. For now he wanted to eat some cereal and turn on his PS4. So he sat down in the empty kitchen and tried to focus on his bowl of Quaker granola and raisin cereal. His mind kept drifting back to his dream girl's embrace, feeling her boobs press against his chest, and tasting her tongue in his mouth. Sighing, he continued to eat and brought his bowl over to the couch to play some NBA 2K18. During the startup screen Leon walked back to his room and put on some sweatpants and a wife beater. Part of him wished he could walk around the house in his boxers all day, but he wouldn't be alone in the house for much longer.
Leon had played a few games on his MyCareer player before he heard keys turning the locks in the front door. His head turned in anticipation, but he blushed and focused back on the game. He heard footsteps approaching and turned to greet his sister who had returned home from her summer school class. His once flaccid penis started to stir again, and he tried his best to keep his thoughts pure. This was an extremely difficult task when his dream girl was right in front of him.
"Hey brother! Pause the game come here," his older sister Christina stepped towards him and outstretched her arms, beckoning him to her. She was wearing her black soccer shorts with a white t-shirt, and her hair was up in a bun. Leon did as he was told and paused his game to get up and give her a hug.
"Hi Tina," he wrapped his arms around her and she held him close to her, and he could smell her perfume and the shampoo she used on her hair. It was intoxicating, but not as intoxicating as his favorite smell that she could produce. She tilted his head up to hers and gave him a quick but strong peck on the lips. This was new. It started almost a month ago when Christina came home for the summer. As kids, they would mess around and experiment with each other's bodies, but that mostly ended when Tina got into high school. She was always very touchy with him, and never really cared much about his personal space. He didn't mind at all, part of him loved it, but he was trying to keep that part of him at bay. She never made it easy on him, and this new kissing thing made it virtually impossible for him not to get hard.
Her gaze was fixed on him as she spoke, "I gotta show you something really quick," and Leon could barely see her eyes flutter briefly before her smile got bigger.
Leon had to pretend that he wasn't excited to know what was going to happen next. He placed his hand over his nose and faked disinterest. "Let me guess, you farted," he said in a nasally voice after plugging his nose with little strength so he could still smell what she had emitted. Christina took the liberty of removing his hand from his nose for him.
"Noooope nope you have to smell it and tell me what I ate for lunch," she kept his hand in hers and grabbed his other one to secure them both in front of him. Leon sighed and inhaled slightly, when in reality he wanted to get on his knees and plunge his face into the source. The smell was thick, and had a rotten vegetable overtone. He could still detect a meaty scent in it, and he knew immediately where she had eaten due to the familiar smell of her fart.
"Ugh, damn Tina," he shook his head and kept up his act. Christina giggled and he melted a little inside. Her smile and laugh alone were enough to set him off. "You ate at that teriyaki bowl spot again didn't you," he smirked a bit but caught himself and tried to get his hands free from hers.
Christina laughed loudly, "Yes!! Oh my god you're so good at guessing my farts!" Leon thought to himself that it took years of practice. Tina had been gassy since they were kids. She would always fart on him, in his direction, in his face, whenever she could. She was always taller and bigger than him, so she overpowered and dominated him with ease. This, however, didn't die down with their experimentation. Tina always farted around him, and Leon knew she was the reason for his fetish. He continued his mock struggle to free himself from her. "Nooooo stop trying to leeeeeave," she pouted and pulled his hands back towards her. Leon knew this wasn't how normal siblings acted. This was aggressive flirting, but he enjoyed it so much that he couldn't bring himself to stop it.
Leon threw his head back and groaned a very convincing groan, "Ahhhhhh Tina the peppers in those bowls fuck your stomach up, you gotta find another spot". This was true of most of her favorite restaurants.
"Cmonnnn, I've been holding these in during class and they smell amaaaazing, you can't just waste them you have to enjoy them with me!" Tina was howling at this point, but Leon was entranced by her last statement. He knew she loved farting and liked the smell of her own farts, but he wasn't ready for how hot she sounded when she talked about it. His dick couldn't take much more of this, and he had to distract himself or he'd pop a full boner in his sweatpants right in front of her.
"T-Tina, we'd be standing here until mom got home from work if I was gonna wait with you until you were empty," that wasn't much of an overstatement. Most foods with meat or cheese or peppers or beans gave Tina bad gas and loads of it. She could go on like this for most of the day.
Tina chuckled at this and released one of Leon's hands, "You're right, let's play something". She interlocked her fingers with his and led him back towards the couch. She grabbed the controller and started to exit the game.
"Wait let me finish this one game, I'm rollin right now and I broke my career highs in points AND assists," Leon pleaded and took the controller from her. Tina glared at him but eventually broke into a grin.
"Ok but after we get to play what I want to play, and you can't pause the game! No dragging it out," her grin still set on her face as she stared at him.
"For sure whatever you want, thanks sis-" Tina interrupted him with a fart that vibrated the couch.
He quickly turned his head, rattled by the bass her ass produced. "AND I get to fart on you while you play," her gaze was almost sultry, her grin turned into a sneer and her eyes stayed fixed on his. Leon was close to panicking; he chose the wrong pants to wear today. Jeans would've hid his erection but sweats were so comfy around the house. Now he was going to pay for that comfort. If his sister saw that he was getting hard while she farted on him she'd be grossed out, he had to control himself.
"Aw cmon Tina, you can't just point your butt that way and scoot over a little bit?" this was an honest request. He hoped she would help him out since he was trying to keep her from seeing something she didn't want to see, but instead she got up and sat right next to him and tilted away from him so her ass was pointed in his direction as she let out a silent hiss of a fart. The smell was strong and it hit him like a truck.
"Nope! Once you finish playing I'll give you some space," she shimmied closer to him and lied down on her side, revealing her enormous ass to him. Her athletic short shorts did little to nothing to cover her booty meat, and Leon forced himself to look at the TV instead of staring at it. This was dangerous, and he considered just giving up on the game in order to save himself from this situation. But his perverted side took over, and he convinced himself he was doing it for his MyCareer progress. He hit "resume game".
"Ok deal," it was almost the end of the 3rd quarter, but Leon had extended the quarter times to regulation 12 minutes in order to get more stats. Christina was momentarily surprised by her brother's resolve, and a devious grin formed on her pretty face. She pushed her butt out and strained her bowels to release a six second bomb of a fart that went straight to Leon. He struggled to focus on his game and started making small mistakes as he kept glancing over to his older sister's fuming but perfectly round and large ass.
"You're fucking up, don't lose or I'll pin you down and fart on you for wasting my time!" she giggled again and Leon's focus was shattered. He had to win, if she pinned him with her butt he wouldn't be able to control his boner. He shook his head and steeled himself. The 3rd quarter ended and he was up by five.
"Not gonna happen swamp ass, this is a W," the 4th quarter began and Leon went to work.
Christina mock gasped and threw one of the couch pillows at him, "Swamp ass?!? Fuck you!" They both laughed and Leon's nether region settled down a bit. Joking around helped him with the constant surges of blood to his dick.
His sister, however, was going all out at the moment. She bit her lip and brought her hand up to her face to hide the pleasure she was getting from farting on her little brother. She pushed again and a wet fart slapped its way out of her ass, her eyes went wide as she didn't expect it to be so moist. Leon looked over, mesmerized at the sound and smell of her last emission, but quickly remembered to feign disgust. "Holy fuck Tina, you sure you didn't shit yourself? Mom would be pissed if you shit on the couch," he joked his way out of his lustful trance and looked back at the TV. Tina laughed hysterically.
"I think I'm good, and mom couldn't say shit she probably did worse to this couch than I ever have!" they both laughed at this. Their mom was just as gassy as Christina, she just wasn't as proud about it as her daughter. The game continued and to Leon's dismay he found himself down by two for the first time in the game. He panicked slightly, but attempted to regain his composure. He couldn't lose, if he did he would have to run into his room and lock the door in order to avoid the embarrassment of his sister knowing his disgusting secret. His mettle was about to be tested, as his sister wasn't pulling any punches.
Christina flipped onto her stomach and raised her ass up by getting on her knees. Leon couldn't handle the view so he stared hard at the TV screen. He heard a loud, airy fart push out from her anus toward him and it made him weak. This was too much, the smell of rotten veggies and meat was all around him and it overloaded his senses. No matter how many times he shook his head he couldn't shake the aroma of his sister's insides. "Ohhhhhhh my god that felt so fucking good," she raised herself upright and immediately started coughing and fanning near her face. "HOLY SHIT THAT'S BAD!" she yelled while laughing herself to tears.
Leon had caught himself up to being in the lead but it wasn't looking good. He was playing the Wizards and John Wall was heating up. Only one minute was left in the game and he was up by one. This was it. The strain he was putting himself through voluntarily was unbearable, and with every breath he became slightly more aroused.
Then Christina did something diabolical, she lied back down and slid her hand down her pants. Leon couldn't hear the silent beast that slipped out of her, and he was caught completely off guard when she suddenly put her hand over his nose and mouth. He realized immediately what she had done but it was too late. The smell of her ass and her most recent emission was all over his face, and he lost all focus on the game. He had to move away from her before he became fully erect, but she stayed on him and rubbed her hand in his nose, laughing her ass of the whole time. Leon had to pause the game. That shit just wasn't fair.
"Cheater! How am I supposed to win with you doing foul shit like that?" Leon had scooted to the arm of the couch and was struggling to keep his now visible boner from her view by bringing his leg up in a kicking position. His sister was still laughing at her earlier prank, until she noticed the pause screen on the TV.
"OH SHIT! YOU LOSE!" Christina turned to face her baby brother. Her gleeful face betrayed the gross act she was about to commit. Leon was genuinely nervous, he had never outrun her before. He picked up the pillow she had thrown at him earlier and tossed it at her face, rolled off the couch, then sprang up to sprint to his room. He got to the hallway before Christina had grabbed his waste in a full on tackle from behind. After tussling on the floor for a moment she ended up on top of Leon's back with his arms underneath her knees.
They both were panting now, and in between breaths Christina mocked his failed escape attempt. "You never got away before, why try now?" She undid her bun and let her hair fall to her shoulders. "Ever since we were kids I've always been bigger, faster and stronger than you," Leon's breathing was labored as he struggled against his sister's weight on his back. He mustered up his remaining strength and attempted to push his body upwards.
"We're.. not.. little anymore!" His attempt eventually failed, but he had managed to get surprisingly high off the ground before collapsing under his sister's weight. The fall shocked Christina and caused a fart to vibrate across Leon's back as they landed. She giggled once more before looking at her younger brother lovingly. He had grown so much over the years, and the whole time he put up with her immaturity while remaining so nice to her. Her stomach grumbled as air bubbles worked their way up her esophagus instead of through her intestines. She stroked her brother's hair softly and brought her face to his before releasing a guttural belch.
Leon was used to his sister burping, but the way she rubbed her fingers through his hair and stared at him after she did it caught him off guard. He was thankful for his current position on his stomach, which concealed his uncomfortably extending member. Suddenly he felt the pressure on his arms release and some of the weight on his back lift up. His sister read his mind and stated flatly, "Don't run". Her voice sounded much more commanding than usual, which turned him on even more. Everything about her was turning him on. She pulled his arms behind his back and rolled him over before planting herself on his lap.
Directly on his boner.
Leon froze in horror, this never happened before. Christina had pinned him like this when they were kids but he had always managed to keep his arousal hidden. Now he felt his dick pressed up against her inner thigh, and he knew she felt it too. He had to apologize.
"Tina I'm sorry I-" his apology was cut off by his sister's finger placed against his lips.
Christina's gaze was unwavering, "It's ok, I know". She wasn't smiling, only staring at him. Leon was at a loss for words, and he couldn't think of anything else to say besides 'I'm sorry'. Her finger remained pushed against his lips.
"Do you like it when I fart Leon?" her question was so straightforward that his answer was made easy. He took a breath and came clean.
"Yeah.. I like everything about you. So y-yeah I like it when you fart," he stammered through his confession, and felt relieved that he had told her. No matter what happened from here at least they would be honest with each other.
Leon saw Christina blush, before she smiled sweetly at him. She raised herself slightly off of his lap and turned slowly until her butt was facing him. She rested on her knees and moved backwards until her ass took up almost all of his vision. She remained elevated just inches away from his face, before turning her head slightly to address him.
"Do you want me to fart on you?"
Leon could hear her ask the question over the pounding of his heart in his chest. Every inhale he took was marked by the scent of Christina's ass. He could smell hints of her earlier farts trapped in the depths of her shorts. The aroma was perfect, more powerful than he imagined. This was really happening, and he would waste no time second guessing himself.
He breathlessly replied, "Yes I do". He felt her hand slide over his sweatpants to his dick. The sensation made him twitch slightly, and she continued to slowly rub her hand back and forth over his dick print.
"Tell me you want me to fart on you," her voice was stern and soft at the same time. Leon was quick to obey her command.
"I want you to fart on me Tina!"
With that she lowered her shapely, round, soft, toned and beautiful ass towards Leon's face until she felt his nose against her shorts. She bit her lip and closed her eyes to keep herself from moaning. This was something she'd always wanted to do with Leon, but not the way she'd been doing it in the past. She wanted him to want it. Christina pushed lightly and let out a relatively small and airy toot onto her brother's nose. Her eyelids fluttered as she felt it exit her asshole, and looked over her shoulder to see how he would react.
Before she had fully turned her head she felt Leon's hands come up from his sides to her thighs, then his face push against her shorts as he inhaled deeply. She reached behind her with her free hand and pulled his hair towards her butt. Her other hand stopped rubbing his pants and grabbed one of her meaty cheeks to spread her ass open slightly. She pushed harder this time and passed a loud 4 second ripper of a fart.
Leon was in a state of euphoria. Nothing was going through his brain but the smell and feel of Christina's ass around his face. He rubbed his nose around her shorts continued to take deep breaths of her teriyaki bowl farts. Then he felt her lift off of him a bit.
"How was that?" her voice was airy, and he could tell she was breathing hard like he was. She loosened her grip on his hair and began to run her fingers through it.
"Amazing," he gasped, still sniffing the remains of her farts from the seat of her shorts. He managed to gasp again, "Thank you so much".
Christina giggled again, "Thank you so much for what?" Her teasing was getting him harder than he ever imagined he could be.
"Thank you so much for farting on me Tina!" he couldn't wait to oblige her, to make her smile and laugh. He would do most likely anything for her. He hoped she knew that.
His sister closed her eyes and her mouth. She had wanted this for so long, and he was so willing. It made her soak through her panties. "You're welcome Leon," she fought to control her breathing and continue dominating him.
"Why don't you give my ass a kiss to thank me properly?" Christina continued to caress Leon's hair and put her hand back onto his boner. Once again, Leon wasted no time before following her command. He planted his lips hard in her ass crack and inhaled loudly as he did, keeping them there for several seconds before finishing his kiss. He awaited his next command, but he inwardly knew what it was going to be. He wanted to hear how sexy she'd be when she said it.
She didn't let him down. "Ohh is that it? You aren't anymore thankful to me?" her voice was soft and sincere. Enough to make Leon plant dozens of kisses on both of her cheeks as well as the crack of her ass. He licked her lightly with each kiss on the exposed flesh that her shorts couldn't contain and felt her shudder slightly as he did. After Leon had kissed her cheeks countless times she let go of his hair and began to stand above him. The view from underneath his sister was lovely. He kissed her long and toned legs and licked her feet while he lied next to them.
Christina couldn't hide her arousal any longer. As she stood she peeled her shorts off and let them fall onto Leon's face before tossing them aside. She swayed slowly side to side above her brother before descending again to her kneeling position. The rumbling gas in her stomach had given way to a more urgent pressure, but she knew she could fart a bit more before having to go to the bathroom. She leaned forward and used both her hands to spread her cheeks in front of Leon's face.
Leon was in awe. Her pink cotton panties were being devoured by her ass cheeks, making them less like panties and more like lingerie. As she spread her ass with her hands and eased backwards he could smell not only the residual scent of farts trapped in the fabric, but also the aroma of her asshole itself. He felt the heat radiating off of her body, and it drove him mad. He had to resist the urge to pull her panties down and tongue her pussy and asshole. He wanted to wait for her to instruct him according to what she wanted.
"Open your mouth," she was panting a bit now, the anticipation was building for her final act. He knew where she wanted him to put his open mouth, and he pushed his face forward into her inviting butt crack. Without even pushing very hard she eased a very airy 4 second fart into her brother's mouth. Then, she quickly placed her hand over his mouth to close it, spun around on top of him and brought her lips to his.
Leon tasted and smelled the vegetables and chicken that had been trapped inside his sister throughout the day. He felt and tasted her lips and tongue force their way around his own. He felt her hands pulling the back of his head into her kiss. He returned it passionately, sloppily trading spit as they let go of everything else and lost themselves in the moment. He brought his hands around to her ass and grabbed as much flesh as he could as he groped and kneaded her supple backside. Christina gasped loudly and pulled Leon's head into her breasts. He continued massaging her ass while he kissed her neck.
She lifted herself off of him and pulled him upright with her. In sitting position he was at chest level with her while she was still seated on his lap. He could feel precum in his sweatpants as Christina lightly ground her butt into his crotch. She tilted his head upwards to look up at her. Her smile was genuine, and it made Leon's heart do somersaults. Her hand reached behind her for his and interlocked their fingers briefly, before unlocking and leading his hand inside the back of her panties. He felt the moist inside of her ass and eventually his hand was encased in butt flesh. She rubbed one of his fingers firmly against her sphincter and locked lips with him once again. Leon felt a new source of heat around his trapped hand as she farted silently onto it. She released his hand and brought it up close to his face.
Leon immediately brought his hand to his nose, and after inhaling with his finger practically up his nostril, he began to lick his hand dutifully. Her ass's odor and taste was embedded into his nose and mouth, and he loved it. It was overpowering. Her eyes never left his as he licked his hand clean, and he returned her gaze after he was done while awaiting his next command.
Christina's midsection let out a low gurgle that caused her to shift before chuckling.
"I have to shit," her chuckling turned into laughter and even Leon snickered at his older sister's immaturity. She stood up off him. "I'll be done soon and we can do this some more".
Leon smiled, "Right. Soon. See you in an hour Tina". His sister raised her eyebrows and sat down on his lap again.
"Is that any way to talk to the girl who just dominated you with her 'Swamp Ass'?" Leon tried to suppress a laugh but it didn't work, and Christina couldn't hold her glare for long before she broke into a smile herself. "You know me too well, it might actually be an hour this time," she kissed him again and licked his nose before standing back up.
Leon looked up at her perfectly sculpted body, "You have to tell me how to act so I can be a good sub to you".
Christina gazed down and turned her body to show him her ass. "I will," she pushed backwards and smothered his face into her crack before gyrating it slowly. Leon's face was getting accustomed to being inside his sister's magnificent behind, and he took deep breaths as she smothered him with it. "Your next job is to shower and brush your teeth while I finish shitting," she pulled her ass away from him and faked a look of disgust. "You really stink Leon," she broke into laughter as she sauntered off to the bathroom, accentuating the switch in her ass as she walked.
And with that Leon stood up and followed Christina into the bathroom they shared so that he could shower and listen to the sound of her dropping a load less than two feet away. He couldn't contain his smile or his erection.
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2020.11.22 19:37 BurkeMaxi What you are looking for is..... (Link in the Desc.)2

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2020.11.22 15:11 couldibetheasshole Mom caught me naked

This is going to be long winded. Ive been wanting to tell this story for a really long time but couldn’t to anyone in my life because obviously they all know my sibling. To start, I’m not transphobic, I have nothing against trans people and have a lot of trans friends who I respect tremendously and I don’t think any differently of them. That being said...
Let’s start with the most recent events. My sibling recently came out as MtF trans. I’ve never had any problems using my friends correct pronouns and new names, but it’s different with my sibling. I misgender them and deadname them all the time. I try not to do it to their face but it’s like my soul and brain won’t let me let go of the brother that I knew. Going back....
My sibling and I are pretty close in age and grew up really close to each other. Unfortunately, as small children, we we’re both molested by the same person. I remember having a conversation with them about it as a very small child and then ever talking about it again.
Flash forward a little bit and I’m 14 and my sibling is 15 or 16. I was taking a shower at my moms house and they asked if they could come in to pee while I was in the shower (this was completely normal for my family). I said sure and it felt like they were in there for a really long time, and then I noticed movement in the corner of the shower. They were taking pictures of me. I didn’t really process it at the time and I was angry but I didn’t really say anything because I didn’t know what to say. This continued to happen for a week or so where every time I took a shower they would find an excuse to come in and take pictures of me, and I noticed every time. I was starting to get really unnerved.
One time it blew up because they left the flash on their camera and so it was impossible for me to ignore it, so I snapped and said “what the fuck are you doing? Get out”. I didn’t want to say exactly what they were doing because for some reason I felt so much fear and shame about it. When I said that they decided their next plan of action was to accidentally “fall” into my shower with me and feign injury to turn and look at me in the shower. I kicked them in the head and told them to get the fuck out.
After all of this went down and after a lot of convincing from my bf at the time, I ended up telling my dad because I was really scared. Keep in mind neither of my parents know about our sexual abuse as a child. My dad was obviously taken by surprise and took me alone to talk to me in private about it. He talked to me for a while and he did the best he could. The summary of what he said to me was “it’s not ok but it is normal”. He also told me that he used to try to take pictures of his mom as a kid thinking that might make me feel better. It did not. I did my best to forget about the whole thing but I knew deep down this was something I was just going to have to deal with later
Anyway flash forward to last year, I was 22. Basically my life was going really well and it felt like things were really going my way. All of a sudden, however, it was like that memory resurfaced fully and I was completely retraumatized. I cried so much more then than I ever did when it first happened. I couldn’t tell my current bf who I love and trust very much for a couple of months because I was so afraid of shattering the friendship he had formed with my sibling. Basically, I had a really hard time dealing with these suddenly unrepressed memories. In this time I also remembered a couple of other more mild incidents of sexual abuse from my sibling.
I was (and am still) struggling a lot because this is something that happened almost ten years ago. After that event me and my sibling had some tension but eventually went back to being buddies, and then it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I hated them for everything they had done to me. We both live at my moms (I just moved but I’m still transitioning back and forth) and I know that my anger creates an air of tension and hatred. I feel really bad because my sibling is already clearly in a really bad place. They’re depressed, can’t hold a job, can’t cook, doesn’t have many friends, etc etc. it was for that reason I felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom or other siblings or anyone about how I was feeling because I didn’t want to give anyone another reason to make my sibling feel bad. To make matters even tougher for me, very recently (a couple of weeks ago) I caught my sibling stealing my panties. They said it was an accident which I clearly don’t believe. Whether it was for trans reasons or sexual reasons, I still felt violated, angry, disgusted, etc.
Moving on to the trans subject, I’m really struggling with attaching a new identity to the person who assaulted me. I feel like I’m put in a position where I’m supposed to be lending extra support and love and respect to someone who is clearly vulnerable for coming out which I can objectively respect. However, every time I look at them at this point in time I can only think of the brother who stole my underwear, groped me, took naked pictures of me, etc. I want to be respectful but the emotional side of me can’t let go of this trauma. I haven’t been able to tell my story to anyone and ultimately I’m just trying to to put this in the past so I can let go of resentment, anger and hatred because it’s a burden I don’t want but don’t feel like I have a choice in carrying. I want to be respectful and an ally to my sibling, but I’m so deeply hurt that it’s like my brain won’t let me.
Part of what makes this situation so difficult for me is not being able to put my sibling in a “box” so to speak. My other abuser I can easily put in a box by saying “he’s my abuser, he’s a bad person, idc about his backstory” but I can’t exactly do that with my sibling. I really just need some clarity on if what I’m feeling is valid or if I’m being deeply transphobic for feeling this way.
TL:DR, my sibling who molested me came out as trans and I’m having a hard time being supportive
submitted by couldibetheasshole to offmychest [link] [comments]


2020.11.21 18:33 El_Vet_Mac Mom caught me naked

Hello everyone! I've been searching for so long for something, anything anywhere where I can tell my story and get honest opinions and maybe even advices. So here is my story...
I was born and still live on the Balkan peninsula in a small country where it is still normal for the man to be the head of the house, and to have the right to beat his wife and kids and nobody would say anything(yes not even the police), although there is a law against family abuse. I was the first born, and I guess I was supposed to be much more protected and taken care of, but unfortunately that was not the case. The first memory i have of my father beating me was from when I was just two but I remember it like it was yesterday. I had this blowup punching bag that when you punch it it was coming back up. It had a clown on it. I know I was holding a pen in my hand and I think I was drawing on the punching bag when it all of a sudden started deflating. At that moment I was in my parents bedroom(that was where my crib was) with my mom, and as soon as the bag started deflating my dad walked in and started shouting, draged me up with one hand and just smacked me couple of times all over my body, I think I could still feel those hits. I remember that my mom was begging him to stop, but he basically threw me in the corner of the room and told me I was not allowed to move untill he said so. I remember peeing myself from fear and not being able to breathe properly. The beatings continued from then and I can even say they were only getting worse as I grew up. When I started school and was learning to write, he would beat me if I didn't write the letter correctly, he would heat me on the head, hit my head from the table, rip up the notebook, yell at me how incapable I was about anything. If my room was not tidy, he would throw everything out from the shelves, closets, drawers and table in the middle of the room, and tell me I have 15 minutes to clean it up, and I couldn't do it so he would come back beat me up and repeat everything. Once my brother took a cell phone to the swimming practice (we were young I think I was 9 or 10 and my bro was 6 or 7) and it started ringing and some kids took it out of the bag and wanted to steal it but my father caught them. The real hell began when we got home, first he yelled, then he beat us and finally told us to strip naked and go and stand in front of the front door. We live in a building so neighbors were passing by looking at us. I have never felt more embarrassed in my life. I could hear my mother begging him to let us in, but he threatened her that she will join us if she continued with the begging and that we deserved all of that. We would get a beating if we got a bad grade, we would get a beating if we didn't arrive home on time from school, he wouldn't allow us to eat, we would sit in the corner for hours as punishment. As I was growing up these incidents would get a bit less frequent but when they happened it would be really bad. There were couple of times where he would lock us(including my mom) out of our apartment, and we would have to spend the day at the neighbors. We would beg for him to let us in. Once I was ready to call the police but my mom didnt allow because " what will the people say". When I started high school things changed for the better, and those 4 years there was no incident. But then it began all over again. The last time he hit me was when I was 21(yup you are seeing it right). We had a big fight about him being lazy and not helping around the house and he got so angry he was hitting me and kicking me with his full power. My brother was too scared to do anything although he tried to stand in between. When I tried to leave that day he took away all of the keys and started beating me the same way all over again. There were slaps, fists, kicks all over me, he ripped up one of my t-shirts when he was pulling me away from the door. We didn't spoke for 3 months after that. I only got the courage to kinda stand up when he slapped my mom. The whole argument started when my mom came back from spending few days at my grandma's (her mom) because she was sick. When my mom came back he started yelling about how he wants a divorce, that she should have stayed there, there was no reason to come back, she doesent have a home here and stuff like that. And when my mom said that she is not signing anything he came and slapped her. I just grabbed his hands and pushed him away from her, but boy was i scared. After he turned around my hands and legs were shaking so much I couldn't stand up properly.
Because of all of this i promised myself I am not going to risk it getting a husband like him so I decided never to fall in love or get married. I just buried my feelings so deep so nobody can find them. When I am supposed to be happy about stuff I suppress all feelings and over time i became such a pro that now I can't feel anything even if i want to. All I feel is anger and resentment toward him. Also what I've caught myself doing is i tend to smack or hit(not hard but still) people that I like(like friends and family). When I was in primary school I was going towards delinquency, I was bullying a kid in my class(not my proudest moment) and I was stealing stuff from local stores when nobody was looking (it was candy and chocolate but still). Fortunately I managed to correct myself from that behavior. I also tend to overthink way too much and I start spiraling and getting deeper into negative thoughts and destroying the good relationships i am supposed to build up.
All i want to is to feel at least a bit, and to feel more human, because right now i feel like a Vulkan(my fellow star trek fans will understand what im talking about).
If you stayed and read it till the end thank you very much, i really appreciate your time.
submitted by El_Vet_Mac to abusesurvivors [link] [comments]


2020.11.21 07:02 couldibetheasshole Mom naked caught me

AITA for not respecting my trans sibling for reasons beyond being trans? TW: sexual abuse, incest
This is going to be long winded. Ive been wanting to tell this story for a really long time but couldn’t to anyone in my life because obviously they all know my sibling. To start, I’m not transphobic, I have nothing against trans people and have a lot of trans friends who I respect tremendously and I don’t think any differently of them. That being said...
Let’s start with the most recent events. My sibling recently came out as MtF trans. I’ve never had any problems using my friends correct pronouns and new names, but it’s different with my sibling. I misgender them and deadname them all the time. I try not to do it to their face but it’s like my soul and brain won’t let me let go of the brother that I knew. Going back....
My sibling and I are pretty close in age and grew up really close to each other. Unfortunately, as small children, we we’re both molested by the same person. I remember having a conversation with them about it as a very small child and then ever talking about it again.
Flash forward a little bit and I’m 14 and my sibling is 15 or 16. I was taking a shower at my moms house and they asked if they could come in to pee while I was in the shower (this was completely normal for my family). I said sure and it felt like they were in there for a really long time, and then I noticed movement in the corner of the shower. They were taking pictures of me. I didn’t really process it at the time and I was angry but I didn’t really say anything because I didn’t know what to say. This continued to happen for a week or so where every time I took a shower they would find an excuse to come in and take pictures of me, and I noticed every time. I was starting to get really unnerved.
One time it blew up because they left the flash on their camera and so it was impossible for me to ignore it, so I snapped and said “what the fuck are you doing? Get out”. I didn’t want to say exactly what they were doing because for some reason I felt so much fear and shame about it. When I said that they decided their next plan of action was to accidentally “fall” into my shower with me and feign injury to turn and look at me in the shower. I kicked them in the head and told them to get the fuck out.
After all of this went down and after a lot of convincing from my bf at the time, I ended up telling my dad because I was really scared. Keep in mind neither of my parents know about our sexual abuse as a child. My dad was obviously taken by surprise and took me alone to talk to me in private about it. He talked to me for a while and he did the best he could. The summary of what he said to me was “it’s not ok but it is normal”. He also told me that he used to try to take pictures of his mom as a kid thinking that might make me feel better. It did not. I did my best to forget about the whole thing but I knew deep down this was something I was just going to have to deal with later
Anyway flash forward to last year, I was 22. Basically my life was going really well and it felt like things were really going my way. All of a sudden, however, it was like that memory resurfaced fully and I was completely retraumatized. I cried so much more then than I ever did when it first happened. I couldn’t tell my current bf who I love and trust very much for a couple of months because I was so afraid of shattering the friendship he had formed with my sibling. Basically, I had a really hard time dealing with these suddenly unrepressed memories. In this time I also remembered a couple of other more mild incidents of sexual abuse from my sibling.
I was (and am still) struggling a lot because this is something that happened almost ten years ago. After that event me and my sibling had some tension but eventually went back to being buddies, and then it was like a switch flipped and suddenly I hated them for everything they had done to me. We both live at my moms (I just moved but I’m still transitioning back and forth) and I know that my anger creates an air of tension and hatred. I feel really bad because my sibling is already clearly in a really bad place. They’re depressed, can’t hold a job, can’t cook, doesn’t have many friends, etc etc. it was for that reason I felt like I couldn’t talk to my mom or other siblings or anyone about how I was feeling because I didn’t want to give anyone another reason to make my sibling feel bad. To make matters even tougher for me, very recently (a couple of weeks ago) I caught my sibling stealing my panties. They said it was an accident which I clearly don’t believe. Whether it was for trans reasons or sexual reasons, I still felt violated, angry, disgusted, etc.
Moving on to the trans subject, I’m really struggling with attaching a new identity to the person who assaulted me. I feel like I’m put in a position where I’m supposed to be lending extra support and love and respect to someone who is clearly vulnerable for coming out which I can objectively respect. However, every time I look at them at this point in time I can only think of the brother who stole my underwear, groped me, took naked pictures of me, etc. I want to be respectful but the emotional side of me can’t let go of this trauma. I haven’t been able to tell my story to anyone and ultimately I’m just trying to to put this in the past so I can let go of resentment, anger and hatred because it’s a burden I don’t want but don’t feel like I have a choice in carrying. I want to be respectful and an ally to my sibling, but I’m so deeply hurt that it’s like my brain won’t let me.
Part of what makes this situation so difficult for me is not being able to put my sibling in a “box” so to speak. My other abuser I can easily put in a box by saying “he’s my abuser, he’s a bad person, idc about his backstory” but I can’t exactly do that with my sibling. I really just need some clarity on if what I’m feeling is valid or if I’m being deeply transphobic for feeling this way.
TL:DR, my sibling who molested me came out as trans and I’m having a hard time being supportive
submitted by couldibetheasshole to abusesurvivors [link] [comments]