Chapter 20
Living With the Guilt
It was 2 a.m. When Mom and I climbed into her private tub after a marathon of sex. She asked me if I regretted doing it. I wanted to say yes, but I shook my head no, telling her I loved her, or that I would not have done it in the first place. Yet I still felt something inside of me telling me that this shouldn't have happened. I was not sure if it was the voices inside my head or something else. Either way, I said no until I could work it out.
I needed a promise from her, so I ignored the voices and gave her a private sensual bath. Something I had always wanted to give her. No sex, just a simple bath, the same kind of bath my adoptive parents had given me over the years I had lived with them. "Mom," I said. "I want you to promise me that you will never have sex with Aaron. I feel if you do it will destroy everything you have accomplished to get him to trust you and love you. He's only thirteen and will be fourteen in January. Besides, if you do you are more likely to get caught by Jim and my sisters because, unlike me, he lives at home.
"I don't care about you having sex with as many men or boys as you want, as long as you promise not to have sex with my brother. This encompasses any type of oral or manual stimulation that should only be engaged in with his explicit consent. It is important to ensure that he has clearly expressed his desire and willingness to participate in these activities. He has previously told me he would like you to do it and has requested that I inquire if you would be interested the next time, we are alone.
"I am urging you to comply with the terms of this deal, as failure to do so will lead to the revelation of private and intimate aspects concerning your sex life, regardless of any outcomes. It's crucial to understand that my brother, Aaron, was raised differently, and I don't want to impose my lifestyle on him just so you can have sex with him. I apologize and love you deeply, but I kindly request that you refrain from having sex with him until he reaches an appropriate age. You have my full availability, as well as the opportunity to be with anyone else who is part of the Garden Club or has agreed to my father's terms, except Aaron, until he is of age."
She promised me and I knew she would keep it. I hated the fact I just blackmailed her. She lifted me out of the tub so she could do me orally and took it all … right on down to the hilt. She pulled it out long enough to tell me she had always wanted to have sex with my Dad, not Jim, my Dad. I moaned that he too would very much like to have sex with her as well as my Mom.
She smiled up at me and gave me her word that she and I would be having lots of sex. I groaned inwardly, but it was either that or my brother. I knew I was going to hell, but I had no doubt I would not be going alone. I only hoped my father would be there watching us having sex, realizing she had chosen to have sex with me and many others because he had thrown her away like garbage. There was no handbook that could help me, and Jeff it seen fit to abandon me or give me advice.
Because it was 3 a.m. I did not bother going back to my room, knowing most likely that Jody was, or Cindy was still with Greg, but I was wrong. Greg was waiting for me on my mother's bed, he said. "Bro, I thought you died in there. And wanted to know if you wanted to finish what we started earlier with your Mom."
Mom was more than willing even though she just had sex with me for nearly five hours and had just finished me orally not over twenty minutes ago. She was still very horny. I dug deep inside myself to find any reserves left in my tank. I took a breast as Greg took the other and my Mom climbed on the bed. She wanted both of us in the worst way. But I needed time to regenerate. She did not care. I was not quite hard enough. I was hard enough to play Spider-Love. She opened a box of flavored condoms. Ripping the top off while Greg and I got into position. She slipped us both inside of her.
I do not know when I fell asleep. All I know is I was alone in my room, not my mother's room, covered up and my head on a pillow when I woke. I was interrupted by a knock on the door, notifying me that breakfast would be ready in two hours. Landon was dressed in his waist robe as he opened the window curtains to let the sun in. I looked at my watch and it said it was 9 a.m. on Saturday morning. I groaned, wondering how I even survived the night.
I got out of bed and put on a new clean waist robe with a tiger on it and my name sewed in across the bottom. It was a set of five tailor-made for me as well as five full robes. With the same design on the back and with the Garden Club logo on the pocket, hang neatly in my closet with my new wardrobe. My new membership card was no bigger than a driver's license, with a magnetic strip on the back sitting on the table near my bed, with several new pills that I did not recognize.
According to Landon, I was the last one of his charges who still needed to be bathed and made ready to work before breakfast. He gave me a glass of cold water for the pills. Telling me what each pill was for and prescribed by Stringham's Doctor after all the tests of blood work and my nectar. Most of them were a stronger dose of vitamins that my adoptive Mom was giving me.
Two of them were to help slow the damage to my nervous system that had died or was dying because of all the abuse. Not being able to feel anything in certain spots on my body. And to help make my bones stronger and fight the arthritis that was already present.
The rest were vitamins to help fight diseases from flu and colds basically a stronger consecrate of Vitamin A, Vitamin C, Vitamin E, Vitamin P, Vitamin B 2, Vitamin B 6, Iron, Zinc, and Folic acid. All I do know ever since I started this regimen of pills. It was a rarity that I ever got sick and had tons more energy. You can find all of these at a local drugstore or health food store.
The last pill was the horny pill and even that was an upgraded version. I followed Landon down to the big tub and climbed in with him. I was used to being bathed by someone like my adoptive parents and my sisters. So being bathed by my manservant did not bother me.
Unlike everyone else, he asked if he could stimulate me, or would I prefer one of the ladies to do it for me? I was already over my head and Landon had taken really good care of me and my mother. When he reached over for the brush and sponge to bathe me, I surprised him by taking him orally. He pulled it out of my mouth and stood me up. I gave him a silly grin and apologized.
Thinking I had just insulted him for not asking his permission, first thinking he was going to slap me across the face. I was about to apologize again when he pulled me close and kissed me, so passionately I moaned. He hadn't released me as he slowly lifted me out of the tub and leaned me back, letting my legs and feet dangle in the water as he climbed on top of me.
Having him come up between my legs before he released me. Telling me he had been wanting to taste me ever since he found out I was the best thing on the menu, next to Greg. Not only Stringham and Dave but also all the girls and mermaids I had been with recently. He took his tongue down my neck all the way down to both my nipples. I moaned. "I love to have sex with lots of girls, but I also like to have a good penis just as much."
He came back up to my mouth, leaving me breathless, before whispering in my ear as nibbled on my earlobes. Telling me all the things he was going to do to me. I only moaned. "I hope you let me do the same. I haven't had a good penis since yesterday afternoon, and I am hungry." My Mom and Dad had taught me never to turn down sex or a good penis and I was not going to let those voices in, as I made love to him, and bathed him before he bathed me.
Today we're all having breakfast on the patio by the pool. All the girls and ladies were topless, including my mother all wearing a waist-robe. My mother had me take a seat next to her, with Greg on the other side. The first thing my mother did was slip her hand under my robe, finding I was not hard yet, which only meant I had been well taken care of, and I was, believe me.
Mom whispered in my ear and apologized for wearing me out last night. That I fell asleep during sex last night. Said that Landon carried me to bed so she and Greg could continue on where we had left off. She said not even a thunderstorm woke me as they waited to hear me scream and fight my demons as Landon stood guard with a tranquilizer so strong it would put an elephant to sleep, but I did not even stir.
I was not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, knowing that all it would take was to wear me out so completely with sex that the thunderstorm had no effect. Worst my mother knew about it. True, I had given her permission to have sex with me as long as she kept her promise not to touch my brother physically or sexually. In some ways, that worried me.
I do not know why I cared if she did, but I guess in some ways, something told me what I was doing was wrong, but it was too late for me it was not too late for Aaron. I had also hoped that Aaron was not doing the things I was doing. My father would lay off him and spend all that anger on me. The only one who could take it and defend myself against him.
Stupid, I know. Yet I had everything I needed. I had a family that loved me just as much as the Downings and my mother, for the first time in my life; she wanted me to be happy. So, I had decided to sacrifice myself to keep Aaron safe. I would do anything. Again, if I knew by doing so, I would be making a big mistake, because I couldn't let go when the time came to do so. Life would have been so much different. I would have had more of a happy life and all the love a person like me could only imagine.
Whereas now, forty-seven-odd years later, I have no family. Not even relatives that want anything to do with me. I spent those last twenty-five years working, going to school just to forget that mistake. To forget my past, I had lost count of how many times I had tried to kill myself, because I couldn't forget and because I was alone, and nobody cared.
All they see is me as a loser or worse. Because of them, the things I had done were disgusting because I have no regrets about doing them. Stating if given the chance I would still do them, and tell everyone else to go to hell, I was not raised or taught like they were. That sex is bad, masturbation is bad, kissing is bad, being with a woman or guy is bad, being loved by anyone is bad. Yet they think highly of my father for abusing me and my brother, the fact that he tried to kill me almost on a daily basis growing up. Now they are telling me I should forget and move on. Let it go, kiss and make up.
Yes, I was stupid, to think they would care. I can't move on. There is no place to move on to. I am stuck here because of my mistake and have trapped myself with the one person who sees me as a meal ticket. I made a promise I should have never made to my grandmother. To make sure her son, Don, had food in his mouth, and a roof over his head. Because she knew that everyone else in the family would turn away from him when she was gone and buried. I owed her a debt that could never be repaid.
The only way out is death. If only I knew what I would be sacrificing, I would have said no. I am sorry, but the answer is no. I like my life; I like being loved. I am sorry I cannot stay. Packed my bags and got in the car with the Rothwells, leaving everyone I had thought loved me. When in reality they did not and moved on, hanging me out too dry.
I knew my Grandmother would have forgiven me. In fact, at the time, she told me to go and be happy, knowing I would most likely never see her again. I only stayed because of Aaron and my mother. Yet within three years Aaron was gone and married, within a year of my twenty-fifth birthday. My mother moved in with my sister Susan, and I was never allowed to see her.
To me, these are the best days of my life as I sit around a table with my friends, my mother, and lots of beautiful women wanting to share themselves with me, locked away from the world, locked away from their bigotry, locked away from them judging me. Some say I was the one being sexually molested against my will because I was taught that this was ok. It is an incredible experience to feel loved, and it is something that cannot be put into words. Nonetheless, to everyone apart from a few, it was a deceit, and it was morally unacceptable.
They truly have no idea what I felt. They do not know that this is what I wanted. I had lived the nightmare of being physically abused by my parents. I lived bouncing around from one foster home to another. I know what hate and being shunned feel like from my relatives, the LDS Church. Who tells me it's my fault, not theirs when telling me if I only I came to them sooner they would stop it from happening?
I spit in their face, because I did, on several occasions, but all they do is nothing, but quote scripture, tell me to pray, and read their scriptures. They always tell me to repent and say that families are forever. That my parents loved me and weren't abusing me, or if they were they needed counseling and needed to repent and pray. Which is their standard line when they are just trying to get you to go. So, they can forget, or see what's in front of them, see the lies ignore the problems, dismiss it as not their problem let someone else handle it.
They do not understand that I do not have anything to repent of. I have no regrets and I am not sorry for any of it. I was happy. I truly was. Unlike now, where they judge me and condemn me because I was, and it was against their teachings. It's all my fault because I did not go on a mission. It's my fault for not marrying by the time I was twenty-five to their standards, not mine. My reasons why only condemn me, so they shun me. Telling me what I want is against God and against the church.
If I only knew when I was sitting at that table for breakfast that Saturday morning, I would have said to my mother, "Sorry, but I think it is best we never see each other again. Kiss my brother goodbye and my Grandmother. Go back to your husband and forget me." Like the world today has. I would put her in the car myself and wait for my adoptive parents and told them my father tried to kill me, voiding my mother's part of the open adoption contract.
But I did not. Instead, I grabbed one of her breasts while Greg took the other and taking a hand each and slipped it under her robe and played with her sweet spot. Telling her all the things Greg and I were going to do to her when the next opportunity came for us to be alone with her. I had my chance to do just that several times to tell them my father tried to kill me, and it would have been the last time she would have seen me.
Instead, I kept them from knowing so my mother and my brother could visit me and I them as well as my grandmother, begging me not to tell them. Hoping in time like my mother, he too would change. Yet that never happened. He still wants me dead. His wish has now come true, leaving me in a state of loneliness where I feel as though I might as well be dead. However, a hidden smile forms on my face as I remind myself that he departed this life alone and filled with anger, with no one to mourn his passing except for Susan. It is a tragic realization that Susan, too, will face a similar fate, with no one left to mourn her when her time comes. In the end, I can only hope that both of them rot together in the fiery depths of hell.
But because of the promises my mother made to me regarding Aaron when regarding having sex with him. He eased up on him over the years; he did not do a one-eighty, but he never really loved him either, and nor did he touch him.
I moved out the day I graduated from high school. By then Aaron was old enough to take care of himself, but I was a reminder of things not to be, not do, not to have, he wanted him to be like him an abuser, but Aaron said no. He told him to go to hell. Maybe that was because of my sacrifice. I wanted something different for him. I wanted him to have a normal life something I never would have. There is a saying, 'Normal is overrated and boring.' At least he had one where I did not.
He went on a forced LDS mission because of my father pushed it on him because I did not go on one for whatever reason, stating it was because of things I was doing. Unable to accept the fact it was because of all the physical abuse and the mental abuse I couldn't go. And the health reasons caused by him as I suffered physically and mentally. Not because I had sex, or I was bisexual, it was because of him and my mother.
Due to him, I chose not to pursue a conventual marriage. Unlike most people, my marriage and family structure were far from traditional. Not only did I have a non-traditional marriage, but I also had the distinct experience of raising children who were not biologically mine. With two husbands, three wives, and several lovers, I took on the challenge of raising a total of nine children. Not a single one of those children called him Grandpa for obvious reasons.
I did not want that for my family, and I did not want him anywhere near my children. Knowing that like my sister Susan, he and she abuse her own children, they physically abuse them. This time they had learned from their mistakes by never letting them out of their sight, and never allowed to go to school, instead they were home-schooled where they could beat them whenever they liked and as often as they liked; drugging them to keep them under control.
Never allowed to leave the house without them, afraid that if they did, people would find out. My mother too was known to abuse them like she had done with me and Aaron when we were growing up. She may not be able to touch me and Aaron, but her grandchildren were a whole different story. Aaron, too never had children, and Becky was incapable of having any for medical reasons. God had seen fit not to give her eggs so she could not procreate, which was a blessing in itself.