Chapter 15-1
Sex In The Rain
Part 2
I dreaded returning to my mother's house, but I had no other choice. While I could have stayed at the Bishop's or the Kenly's, that wasn't part of our agreement. She insisted on having me home, where she could keep an eye on me. As soon as I stepped through the door, the familiar scent of rain filled the air. The rain itself didn't bother me, but the looming threat of thunder and lightning did. When my father greeted me, his voice carried a menacing growl and resonated with unmistakable anger.
A paper bag from a secondhand store caught my attention as it sat beside him. Seeing him in great pain, a direct result of our confrontation earlier, triggered a mix of satisfaction and a tingling sensation that spread throughout my body. He sneered at us as stood wobbling a bit. "I've established a new rule in this house, and you better adhere to it or find yourself on the streets," he warned.
My mother, with a protective stance, stood in front of me, shielding me from my father. His face bore the evidence of a brutal fight, sporting two black eyes—one from my own hand and the other from Mr. Kenly. His speech was slurred because of a fat lip and a sore jaw, remnants of the taste of my shoe. My mother placed her hands on her hips, demanding to know what this new rule was. My father's grin was unsettling as he explained, "From now on, both you and your goddamn brother must sleep in these pajamas, including socks." My father reached into the paper bag and lifted out two sets of pajamas and tossed one to me and the other to my brother Aaron at our bare feet. I have never seen anything so grotesque and degrading in my entire life. Mine were covered with Winnie the Pooh and Piglet with Aaron's with Sesame Street characters. He smiled wickedly at seeing our reaction and said, "I won't tolerate any nudity in this house when I'm around. It's immoral to prance around with bare feet and wearing nothing but boxers or shorts. I don't care what you do when I'm not here.
"I don't want to see a single naked foot, chest, or bare butt. It's bad enough that kids and their parents openly support such indecency in public. Police should arrest them for public nudity. I won't stand for it in my house. If your brother ever disrespects me or my daughters again under this roof, I swear to God, I'll slit their throats and bury their bodies where they'll never be found. And you," he pointed at my mother, "If you even think about attempting to rape me like you did last night, I'll kill you. It took six agonizing hours for those damn pills to wear off. I had to resort to masturbating just to find some relief, only to have to do it all over again.
"DAMN YOU to hell, Linda!" My fathers seethed; voice filled with anger. The room seemed to darken as my father confronted her. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my fists clenched tightly, wanting to pound his face into the ground. The air was thick with tension.
My father shouted his fist tight enough to draw blood. "I had to spend the biggest part of my day repenting for what you have done to me!" He continued; his voice laced with bitterness. The weight of his actions hung heavy in the air, suffocating the room. It felt as though a dark cloud loomed over our heads, casting a shadow on all of us.
With a trembling voice filled with disgust, my father confessed, "I felt dirty and immoral for doing it. The worst thing about the whole thing was the images of you standing there, naked, filled my mind, making me want to retch. The feeling of nausea overwhelmed me, becoming more and more powerful with each passing moment.
"I felt so nauseous that I couldn't hold it in any longer, and I ended up vomiting for nearly two hours straight. The repulsion was so intense; it felt like my body was actively rejecting the mere thought of you and the unacceptable actions you had pushed me towards. And only to turn around and find myself in a heated altercation with that disgusting, immoral pervert," he spat, his voice laced with fury as he pointed to me. The room was filled with the haunting echoes of fists meeting flesh, creating a symphony of violence that echoed in my ears. It felt comforting and justified to me, considering what he had done to my mother. The sensation of adrenaline coursing through my veins lingered, reminding me of the thrilling experience.
My father's voice filled with anger as he growled, his fist trembling in frustration before he angrily pointed them toward me. "This mother fucking coward who couldn't face me alone!" He declared, his voice dripping with scorn and contempt. "I could have ended his Goddam life! And will the very next time we are alone, that I mother fucking promise!" As if daring me to retaliate, he spat at my feet, the acrid smell of his saliva filling the air.
As my father stepped closer, his tone clearly showed his resignation as he admitted, "I let you win or go to jail," as if we were trapped in a never-ending game of repetition. Intending to prevent further damage, I made the conscious decision to protect myself. It ate at me, the knowledge that giving in would mean succumbing to my father's twisted games.
He shouted at me, his face red with anger, shaking his fist in my direction. "You had brought your pussy, degenerate, immoral mother fucking friends along with you!" Accusingly, my father's voice dripped with contempt. "Next time I won't hold back," he warned, his voice filled with determination. The air crackled with the tension between us. I could feel the fire burning within me, a fierce resolve to never let my father control me again.
I wanted to laugh, to mock the pathetic excuse of a man standing before me. But instead, I stared at him, my eyes filled with defiance. The room seemed to shrink, suffocating me as his presence loomed over me.
"I was the one holding back," I declared, my voice steady and strong. The weight of my words hung in the air, challenging his twisted perception of power. I refused to let him continue to belittle and abuse me.
"They were there to make sure I did not kill you," I explained, my voice firm and resolute. The sounds of their presence, their silent support, echoed in my ears. They were my protectors, my shield against his rage.
"Now, I have broken free from the ties that held me captive as your supposed son or devoted slave, always at your disposal. Yet, it's hard to believe those bonds ever truly existed, given the frequent and explicit ways you've made it known to me and others. You disregarded me as your son and viewed me as unimportant. The same goes for my brother."
I asserted; my voice filled with defiance. In an instant, the weight of my burdens lifted as the realization dawned on me, setting me free from the chains that had held me captive. Standing tall, I reclaimed my freedom from him, feeling an immense sense of relief knowing he could never hurt me again. However, when it came to my brother Aaron, there was still no answer, leaving us with an unresolved dilemma.
"You no longer have the right," I declared, my voice cutting through the silence. The room seemed to tremble with the weight of my words. I could feel the power shift, the balance tilting in my favor.
"She has signed the adoption papers to the Rothwells to adopt me. It is open adoption where you … Jim Shepherd will have no rights, to me ever again, but she can see me anytime I or she wants as my mother. However, you, Mr. Jim Shepherd, you do not have any power or control over me, and you never will." I stated, my voice dripping with satisfaction. The scent of victory filled the air, mingling with the aroma of triumph. I had found my freedom, my escape from his toxic grasp.
"I will accept wearing PJs, but nothing else, when you are here, but only when you are here, but these I will not wear I will burn them." I conceded, my voice laced with defiance. The fabric of my clothes brushed against my skin; a reminder of the control he once had over me, but no longer. I would not allow him to dictate my choices any longer. "If I want to be stark naked, I will," I declared, my voice filled with confidence. The sensation of freedom washed over me, a gentle caress against my skin. I had found solace in embracing my true self, and no one could take that away from me.
I removed all my clothes and stood completely naked in front of him. As I boldly dropped my clothes at his feet and spat in his direction, I felt a sense of satisfaction. Grabbing the package of PJs, I couldn't help but smile as I exited the room. As I looked over, I couldn't help but notice that my brother Aaron had mustered the courage to stand there, completely naked, his clothes left behind as he refused to face our father - or more accurately, the dreaded presence we called Jim Shepherd - before eventually retreating to his room ;leaving his clothes on the floor where he left them.
"Good night, you piece of garbage," I spat, my voice dripping with disdain. The taste of victory lingered on my tongue, sweet and satisfying. I turned away from him, leaving him to wallow in his own misery.
"Mom, when you are ready, I will be in my room 'naked' where he can't see me, masturbating to my heart's desire thinking about all those girls and boys I have had sex with at the nudist colony, come join me if you like." I leaned in close to her and whispered, my voice barely audible but still loud enough for him to catch a glimpse of my intentions. Then I stroked myself right in front of him, leaving him stunned. Finally, I turned towards the hallway that led to my room, feeling the weight of my confinement.
Aaron sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him to his room. The sound of his hurried footsteps gradually faded into the distance. The air in the house was heavy with unease, the tension hanging palpably in the silence. As I entered the room, it felt devoid of any joy or peace, a space that mirrored the turmoil within me. I seethed with anger, resenting myself for allowing my father to provoke me. I knew I had to control my emotions, or else every day would be filled with endless battles between us. The mere thought of coming home and walking into this hostile environment was unbearable.
Suddenly, a soft rap on the door interrupted my thoughts, the sound echoing faintly through the hallway. I swiftly unlocked the door, allowing my mother to enter. It didn't matter that I was still completely naked; my mother had always preferred it that way for me and my brother Aaron, knowing it would upset our father Jim, but we were indifferent to his anger. She motioned for me to sit beside her on the bed, silently indicating her intention to give me a massage, all the while cautioning me to keep it a secret from my father. I expressed my indifference towards him and reluctantly displayed the pajamas he had requested for me to wear. The sight of those clothes made me feel nauseous; they were adorned with images of Winnie the Pooh and Piglet, a fashion disaster of epic proportions. I suppose it could have been worse, like being forced to wear a full PJ jumper suit with feet at the end.
Though both my mother and I despised this rule, we knew that for now; it was better to comply and give in a little. After all, nobody would see me in these hideous pajamas they would be burned in a few short hours. With my mother's help, I reluctantly put them on, and she kissed me as she had done at the Bishop's house when Jim had demanded to see me in my PJs, threatening to kick me out onto the street until my adoptive parents arrived to take me away. Little did he know that with just one phone call, I could have a roof over my head within thirty minutes.
My mother swiftly concocted an excuse, whispering to Jim that I was engrossed in a heartfelt conversation with my grandmother. Nevertheless, he persisted, relentlessly pounding on the door until my mother reluctantly yielded. The door creaked open, revealing a glimpse of the dimly lit hallway. "Alright, alright," my mother begrudgingly admitted, her voice tinged with resignation. "Look, he's wearing them. Are you satisfied now?" Jim's face twisted into a sinister grin, his lips curling upwards to reveal a row of yellowed teeth. A blend of anxiety and frustration welled up inside me, manifesting as an exhausted sigh. I knew that I had reached a crossroads, where I had to decide whether to confront him head-on or endure the humiliation alongside my brother. With a heavy heart, I nodded in reluctant agreement, mustering the strength to step into the living room. As I braced myself for what was to come, the air grew thick with anticipation, the scent of apprehension lingering in the room.
In an attempt to defend me, my mother explained that I had to abruptly end the call with his mother because he wanted to ridicule both me and my brother, all while hiding his camera. Jim's grin only widened as he responded, "Fair is fair. He punishes me by constantly reminding me that I should have killed them when I had the chance in the boiler room, and I would have if you hadn't stopped me. You motherfucking whore." I was about to defend my mother, but she halted me, telling me. "He can call me all the names he wants, but the second he touches me again you can beat the shit out of him." I smiled, giving him a stare that said. "Please be stupid and just try it." Instead, he told me to sit while he gets my "Goddamn immoral fag it of a brother." I swear if my grandmother heard how he talks she would put him over her knee and give him a real hard spanking and wash his mouth out with soap.
Aaron's PJs were almost worse than mine being dressed in Sesame Street characters. Neither of us looked pleased about being in them. Jim pushed Aaron hard onto the couch next to me and said. "I just caught him masturbating when I opened the door. When he thought it was you that was coming in. When he saw me, he didn't even bother hiding the fact he was and said, 'Mom lets me, and my brother do it anytime and anywhere we want to.'
All she said was. "All have Stringham put a lock on your door so next time he can't interrupt you."
Aaron knew like me; Mom did not care if we stimulated ourselves. She did not care if we did it in front of her or on the couch together. She simply said. "Everyone does it, including her and there is nothing wrong with doing it."
Jim said. "You are condoning this type of behavior? Why in the hell am I not surprised? You already let them walk around indecently as it is. Is it such a stretch to think you allow them to do this as well? I wouldn't be surprised if you allowed them to have sex. I should have killed them when they were born." He was about to hit Aaron when I stepped in front of him. He backed away quickly.
Mom's words reverberated through the room, resonating with a mix of excitement and defiance, causing the air to feel heavy and suffocating. The tension was palpable, so thick that it clung to the senses like a dense fog. A mischievous grin danced across Mom's face, accentuating the lines of her features and revealing a sense of mischief. The sharp scent of anger permeated the air, intertwining with a faint aroma of something sweet, creating an odd combination of emotions. As Mom pointed towards Aaron, her finger sliced through the silence, cutting through the atmosphere like a sharp knife. Her voice carried a tone of satisfaction, daring Jim to react.
The room held its breath, the silence hanging in the air, pregnant with anticipation. Mom's words lingered, delicately balancing between approval and curiosity, leaving a lingering question that hung in the room: what had changed for Jim? Memories of intimate moments flooded her mind, accompanied by a rush of sensations, yet the reasons behind the transformation remained a perplexing mystery, like an unanswered question that loomed in the atmosphere. Undeterred by the uncertainty, she shifted her focus to Aaron, her voice tinged with desire. "Aaron, I want you to masturbate, -pardon me boys, stimulate, three times, or even four times a day if you wish, with any girl or boy of your choosing … even with your brother Eric if you to want to do it together, I won't stop you and want you to do it. Feel free to do so right here on the couch or the kitchen table, to your heart's content that includes sex."
Jim's face twisted in anger as he growled, his voice filled with venom. "You immoral freaks!" He pointed accusingly at both me and Aaron. The room was tense, the air thick with hostility. "Do you not know it's a sin against God?" His words echoed, bouncing off the walls. The smell of tension hung in the air, mixing with a faint scent of sweat. Jim's eyes narrowed; his anger was very noticeable but the red on his face was clear. "Why the hell do you think I was repenting half the day? Now we have to see the Bishop to fully repent for our sins because of what you have brought into my house, you disgusting whore!" His voice trembled with rage.
His words cut deep, but I couldn't help but smile, a sense of victory washing over me.
My mother's expression mirrored mine, a proud grin on her face. I could feel the weight of Jim's disapproval, but my newfound self-acceptance overshadowed it. My mother said, facing the cold hard monster of my father. "Yes, Jim, I know perfectly well what it means," she responded, her voice steady and full of love and acceptance. The room seemed to hold its breath; the tension thick." And I couldn't be prouder or happier. Knowing he won't become you and has had many sexual experiences with both men and boys and plenty of girls and women. Enjoying consensual sex, something you seem to know nothing about. After all, he is bisexual, not gay … No differently, not gay! "She paused as she looked at Aaron but on a look from Aaron, she said something… she hoped but didn't dare say anything."
Jim's face contorted with disgust, unable to meet our eyes. "I can't even look at you!" He spat. The room felt suffocating, the atmosphere was heavy. "Get out of my goddamn sight, both of you! If I catch you again doing anything indecent or naked, or even barefoot and shirtless, I'll beat the living hell out of you! Consequences be damned!" The threat hung in the air, the weight of his words lingering. I felt a shiver run down my spine, a mix of fear and defiance. He pointed at us and said his voice shaking with anger and disgust, "From now on, you are to wear those pajamas and clothes in this house or face dire consequences! And if you burn them, I will get you some more! You hear me, boys? I will win this fight, not you or your Goddamn mother!"
The room seemed to close in on us, a sense of danger looming. He snapped a picture of us and gave us an evil smile as we watched the camera flash and the picture rolled out. Telling me he's going to show this picture to all the girls in the ward this Sunday and hang posters all over Santaquin just to humiliate me and my brother for humiliating him. I was too angry to care. I wanted him to take a swing at me, my mother, or my brother just to give the excuse to wipe the grin off his face.
Mom placed us behind her and said. "Go to your rooms. I'll deal with your father, masturbate all you want and take off those Damn awful things and I'll burn them. I can't wait to see him tell the Bishop and see his face when he finds out that it is not a sin to stimulate oneself or stimulate someone else. One of the most exciting aspects of being bisexual is the ability to have a diverse and fulfilling sex life, where you can engage in intimate experiences with partners of your choice, regardless of their gender."
Mom did not dare say any more than that as Jim started to yell at her. "Linda! I can guarantee you! That God and the Bishop will be on my side! You will be lucky if they do not excommunicate you and them for allowing immorality in my Goddamn house! Allowing nudity and indecency as they run shirtless and barefoot in and out of the house and around the neighborhood with the other immoral and indecent boys! Allowing your sons to masturbate. Allowing them to bathe and sleep together. And now allowing them to have sex, God damn it, Linda! Do you even realize what you have done?"
Mom told him. "You are sleeping on the couch from now on. I can't stand the smell of you in my bed."
He yelled back. "I can't look at you without wanting to vomit, you fat disgusting cow."
Mom was crying when she came into my room and she hugged me as I told her. "To me and Aaron and everyone else we thought she was beautiful. The only disgusting thing in this house was that pig on the couch." Mom kissed me, asking me if I still wanted that massage. I nodded. I did even though it was barely nine and Grandma was going to be mad because I hadn't called her yet.
Mom dialed the number from my room and waited for her to pick up. Grandma was madder than a wet hen. When she told her what had happened and the reason, I was calling her so late. She handed me the phone and kissed me on the forehead, handing me half a horny pill with my night drugs. She told me to knock myself out. Telling me she would be back as I talked to my grandmother.
She gave me a silly grin and closed the bedroom door. When she came back, she was wearing the robe I had given her and had a bottle of lotion that said berry delight. She locked the door so nobody could get in knowing my father. Not even an ax could get through that door.
I was still talking to my grandmother when she leaned over and took off my PJ bottoms and started to stimulate me orally. While I talked to my grandmother, I quickly said. "I need to go, Grandma. I am tired after a hard day of playing with my friends today. I'll call you tomorrow morning and we can have a nice long talk," trying not to moan over the phone. I barely heard her say she loved me when Mom removed my shirt, hung up the phone. She asked if I was sure. I lay down on the bed and said. "If I was not, I would not have asked." I did not question if this was right or if this was wrong. I was in too deep to even care.
My mother giggled that she hadn't done this since I was a baby when Jim was serving overseas in Korea during the war. That surprised me. I had thought she hated me the moment I was born. I wondered what made her hate me and wanted to kill me. What had I done so wrong that they both hated me? Mom finished undressing me with only nondescript nightlight giving the only light. We did not need the light we just needed to feel loved. Mom put the lotion on me and gave me one hell of a massage. Only to have Jim pound on the door. Mom yelled through the room, asking. "What do you want now, Jim?"
He said. "Aaron just ran away."
Mom said. "Good for him. Now leave me and us alone." Mom and I knew Aaron would not go far. Most likely went over to the Kenly's place and personally we couldn't blame him. Mom continued to stimulate me orally until I fully climaxed. Telling me how good I tasted and hadn't had a good penis in a very long time. I did not have to ask when was the last one was, it was none of my business.
When Mom finished massaging my back, she hesitated, her voice tinged with uncertainty, as she asked if I was sure about wanting to see her naked. Ignoring the internal voices, I pulled her closer, feeling the softness of her lips as we kissed. With a gentle touch, I loosened the knot of her robe, allowing it to slip off her shoulders and cascade down to the floor. At that moment, it didn't matter how she looked on the outside. It didn't matter if she had the slender figure of my Rothwell Mom, my sisters, or any other women I had been with. She was my mother, and that was all that truly mattered.
Dillon, my nudist boyfriend, assured me that it was okay, sharing that he too had experienced a similar connection with his own mother, a love that deepened their bond. Despite his reassurances, a sense of unease persisted within me, especially when I discovered that Shane, my adoptive Mom's oldest son, had engaged in the same intimate act with her. Now, she too desired the same from me.
Struggling to silence the world's judgment, I reminded myself of the perspective shared by Bishop Earl. He had shed light on the unconventional nature of our love, emphasizing that it should not be reduced to mere sexual desire, as it did not involve procreation. Our ultimate goal was to bring pleasure to one another without the intention of creating life in the process. So why did I allow society to condemn me and tell me that what we had was wrong? In my heart, I knew that I loved both of my mothers, and my love for Mom grew even stronger.
Man, I wish Jeff was here to tell me If I was doing the right thing. My mother was shy like I used to be. I was gentle like she was with me as I nuzzled my head towards her bare breasts. I had bathed them a time or two when I was scared to come in contact with them when I was naked. Now that, too, seemed to be a long time ago.
As I settled my mother on my small twin child's bed, her touch in my hair brought a sense of peace and comfort. My father had adamantly refused to replace it, completely disregarding the fact that he had long outgrown it or that it was falling apart; not even his brother Aaron had anything better, unlike their sisters, he simply didn't care.
The only way we could fit comfortably on it, as I had to remain on top of her or her head and feet would hit the metal head and footboard. One of the main reasons I hated this bed was because it was so short and not wide enough having me sleep sideways most nights. Mom discovered why I liked breasts, telling me they belonged to me the moment I was born. I knew what she wanted as she took my hand and placed it on her sweet spot. She wanted me to stimulate her. That was one thing I was not ready to do with her just yet, the other was she wanted me to have sex with her, another thing that I was not ready to do. I said. "I cannot do that with my father in the house."
She growled and said. "I do not care, just do it son stimulate me with your hands, will do the other when he's not home." I knew it was most likely a sin, considering she was my real biological mother. But then again, my Rothwell brothers do the same to their mother and she would always want me and them to do it. I set my feelings aside and whispered to myself. "Let God sort it out."
Since I did not have the room, I needed. I had to turn around, placing my feet on her shoulders and scooting down. She liked that position because it gave her access to my toes. I cringed when I put my fingers inside, feeling her wetness. I knew I was in too deep, so I ignored the voices of the world and stimulated her as she stifled her screams with my pillow and had my toes in her mouth.
I only did it enough, so she climaxed three times in a row with Jim being so close. Mom knew we would never be able to truly enjoy it with him in the house. Not that I was really having a hard time as it was, being so conflicted not knowing if I should be doing this, just because everyone else around me said it was ok.
I remembered a quote if everyone else was jumping off a bridge. Did it mean I had to do so as well? The truth be told, the only question I would have asked is how deep is the water? Considering now, I was way over my head. Today the world judges me and I let them because I am afraid of what the world would say about me after I have done all these things. Well, mostly the LDS church would look down on me, not they were truly my friends in the first place or my relatives. Even today, they still looked down on me and spit in my face because I did not serve an LDS mission. To them it did not matter that I couldn't do it for medical reasons.
Their negative opinion of mine stems not only from my failure to marry before reaching thirty, particularly in accordance with conventional standards, but also from their belief that my life holds no significance and is merely a pointless endeavor as they perceive it. It did not matter to them what my reasons were, I just simply was not, and they all hated me for it. It always makes me feel as if I do not belong because of it. And now as they read what I have done growing up they will hate me even more. I hate myself because I let the world in; I hate myself for listening to their LDS propaganda and because of that; I am alone.
I knew I made that mistake turning from a life where I'd readily know what true love feels like, but I was afraid, I was afraid of losing the people I loved here when they had gone on with their lives and were leaving me, anyway. Yet I stayed, hoping they still needed me, and found out the hard way they did not. In fact, they wanted nothing to do with me and never did as they spat in my face, ignored me, or wished I was dead.
I hate myself for ignoring my true feelings, covering them with work, and school to the point that I did not hear the voices calling me to leave this world behind. Working ninety-plus hours a week to drown them out. Seeking death when I was forced to stop, either to take time off from work or after I became totally disabled seeking death, for my life has no meaning and no one to share it with. Now it's too late, for the people I loved have moved on without me. Either moved away or death found them. Leaving me entirely wanting death to embrace me so I wouldn't feel the pain of not being loved by anyone.
My father was angry because my mother did not care if my brother ran away so he couldn't beat him to a bloody pulp, as he banged on the door asking what was taking us so long in the same room … a room he couldn't break into. Mom yelled. "We are still talking," as she quickly put on her nightgown and her robe. While I too quickly dressed in those horrid PJs and my socks. Before opening the door so he could see, we weren't doing anything.
Mom gave me a wink and said. "You better not forget to brush your teeth, son, or your adoptive parents will have my head on a platter. It's bad enough that I have to explain to them why you are wearing children's PJs when all your brothers at home are wearing boxers or nothing at all." She left the door open for me as I squeezed past Jim, eyeing her and me with my toothbrush and toothpaste and mouthwash in my hand. My mother's cheeks were flushed from having me stimulate her like I do with my adoptive Mom and my sisters Jody and Kerry.
I closed the bathroom door and peed first and brushed my teeth. Jim was waiting for me as he walked me back to the room, telling me this door stays open. Mom closed it instead just enough so it would not lock, but to give me the privacy I needed. He lifted my chin and stared at me, and growled. "If I hear you make a sound or catch you masturbating. I am going to beat the living crap out of you." I pointed to my wrist, and he smiled seeing my watch was still missing, which said it be a long time before help arrived if ever.