A story in progress that I cannot tell

I was going to start a web blog to keep track of this new adventure I am embarking on. After thinking about just how much work would go in to building a web site and maintain it, I realized that there is no way I have the time to do all that.

So I am going to tell my story here. The story I can't really tell anyone. Not a confession, only because I haven't done anything wrong. Yet.

I have been married for nine and a half years and have three children. Our marriage started out fine then gradually got worse when my husband decided to join the Army after what happened on 9/11. My husband was personal friends with three people that died in tower collapses. Needless to say, he was deeply affected by the attacks and felt the need to enlist.

I supported him at first but now realize that he is over in Iraq, fighting a war with people who he has no quarrel with. He is over there risking getting killed, all because Bush wanted more oil control. I could go on, but this is not about my husband, the Army or Bush.
This story is about how I am in the process of having sexual reassignment surgery. I've always thought myself as a man, although marriage and children were something that I had to do at the time.(Religious family, unwanted pregnancy, abortion not an option) I guess you can say that I am a living contradiction.

Before I was married I had often thought about getting a sex change. As a child I was always playing with other boys and never with the girls. Most of my friends were boys, I can count on one hand the number of girlfriends I had growing up. I was dressed like a boy as a infant and small child and when I start dressing myself, I found that I felt most confortable in male clothing.

As the years passed I became more and more unhappy with my sexuality. Then I met my husband and for a year I found myself very confused. I ended up getting pregnant and then the marriage happened and then more kids.

Now that he has been gone for such a long time, I have had the time to do some serious soul-searching. While he is off trying to save the world, I am here with our kids trying to save myself.

I realize that I am still a boy trapped in a girls body.

I am researching how I can get the operation done. I am trying to figure out how to get it done before he gets home. I figure he won't be able to talk me out of it. He'll have to either accept the new me, or leave me. I would love it if he could understand but I don't think he will. The kids will be confused but I know they will love their Mother no matter what gender I am. It's what's inside that counts right?

So there it is. I am going to get this operation done. I will post more of my story as it unfolds. I welcome all comments both good and bad.

I'm just a terrible person.

It was about a year ago, a few weeks after freshmen orientation. I was getting drunk, of course, because it was the weekend. I'm sure you know the average dorm party, so I'll cut to the chase. She and I were making out in my room, going at it for a while. fueled by too much alcohol, my I started to roam, squeeze, and do things I really shouldn't have done. She said something about having to go to a soccer game tomorrow, needing to sleep, I fired back with 'just a few more minutes". After, again, squeezing what I shouldn't, things begin to get hazy as I put her necklace back on, she goes out, and I roam the halls for a while.

A student council comes, finds me, and brings me to his room. Having sobered up, I realize what had happened.

"You really scared her, man"

I didn't sleep at all that night. Not one blink. How could I, when my guts were tearing themselves apart from agony and guilt?
I walked around like a zombie the next day, I swear I could hear everyone whispering about what had happened, though the council swore he had kept it confidential. I was working on an assignment that afternoon, trying to get my mind clear, when an RA knocked on my door, telling me I had a meeting with the Life Director later
that day.

"Will I be able to stay?"
"I really can't talk about that."

It was a quick meeting between the three of us. I was miserable,going on about how I couldn't believe I did it, the assistant was staring into space, and the LD was, well, professional about it. He explained what would happen, going through the disciplinary board or something, I really wasn't listening. I knew I'd be kicked out
of the dorms, and that's something I couldn't handle. To have that go through the community at home- that I was kicked out for sexual assault- I just couuldn't let that happen.

So I trie to take the cowards way out. I walked out from the meeting, across the street, and bought an assortment of pills, and a lot of them. I got back to the dorm, and washed them all down with half a fifth of whiskey.

It didn't work, and I woke up as my roomate was coming in the door.

"Man, I feel like Death"

"Joe, get an RA"

the resulting trip to the hospital, the call home, the hallucinations, pumping of my stomach, all was like a dream. I still don't know if I've awaken from it, yet.

My family took me home, where I was completely unsure of what step to take next. I never told them why I trie to commit suicide, but they wern't really shocked by it, as I had tried it once before.
They assumed I was too far from home and couldn't handle it. Maybe that's true.
I'm back in school, now, pursuing an alltogether different education. It was a rare night that I can fall asleep without thinking of what I did, helpless to stem the flood of memories, how I fucked up so badly. I recently wrote an email the the LD, telling him as much, that I felt so guilty, ashamed, and angry at myself.
That it was all my fault, that I was the one who fucked up, not her. The only hope I had for myself, was to work so that I never fall that low again, to prove that I'm better, much better than that.

I just don't know if I can do it. Soon it will be one year ago that it happened, and I still feel the same guilt and hate. I still think about what happpened and it feels like yesterday. I still hate myself for it, and don't feel that I've made up for my bad karma yet. I'd be lying to you if I don't think about killing myself again. Every other week or so, I just get so low that I break down and can't bring myself to do anything, lost in myself.
My family obviously doesn't know the whole story, and I doubt they ever will. Only me, the people involved, and now you, know the whole story. It's the story I cannot tell.

I'm just a terrible person.

Hey guys, it's me..Just some information...

Just wanted to let everyone know that I am still alive and kicking over here. Been dealing with some personal issues that have resulted in me having to spend some time away from this blog...

This last story I posted was in my Hushmail for a while before I posted it. I was having some reservations and as a result I let it sit there for a while. In the future, I shall add a "NSFW" which means "Not Safe For Work"...This way, if you are at a place where adult content cannot be viewed(at work, at home with the kids around, at school, etc), come back later to read the story as the story will contain adult language or situations.

I don't want anyone to get in trouble reading my blog! So if you see NSFW, then use caution!!

Thanks for all the support people. I appreciate it. Please make sure to keep submitting your stories...You've all got at least one, so if you haven't taken the time yet, please send your story in.

Have a great weekend!!


-joe

Transexual oral sex fetish (NSFW)

I have this deep fetish for sucking transsexuals cocks.

I have never been attracted to guys but give me a chick with a dick and I love it.
I find transsexual escorts online and then go to them and have them rape me. I like to role play and act surprised they have a cock. Then they force me to suck them off and I love it when they cum in my mouth.

I am a little cumslut.

I found a wallet and didn't return it. Right before Christmas

While on my way out of an auto-parts store I found a wallet on the ground. Instead of returning in, I jumped in my car and drove away. There was about $500 in it, along with the guy's ID and everything.

I was out of money at the time and it was right before Christmas. I took the money then dropped the wallet back in the parking lot of the store. I figured at least I could return the guys wallet and ID and credit cards and stuff. I still feel bad about this and some days I think about driving by the guys house and giving him the money back.
But I don't and I will probably still feel like shit unless I do something about it.

Name kept secret
Location kept secret

I jacked my ex for a two ounces of weed.

...and I was an asshole for doing it.

She called me and asked me if I had a hook-up for a couple of ounces. At the time I didn't but that didn't stp me from talking shit. I told her I could have her stuff later that night no problem. I met up with her and she gave me the money. After looking her right in her eye and lying to her, I left and drove straight to the liquor store where we bought a couple bottles and began drinking. We partied hard that night, I had no hook-up and I didn't have any intention whatsoever of even trying.
She ended up talking to my homie and the story went that I got busted somehow and was sitting in jail. I continued the lie later when I called her. She knew I was full of shit.

We stopped talking. I heard that the guys who asked her to get the dope, went to her place and took all her furniture and stereo and shit.

I was lower than low. Did I mention she was a single mother at the time? I suddenly feel sick. I am going to go vomit.

It's like the discovery channel

We are only a few degrees removed from primates and with myself and my wife, it shows.

We can spend hours picking at ear other. Plucking errant hairs out, popping pimples, squeezing out blackheads. It's hard to say which position is more comfortable. Being the picker or the pickee.
We often laugh and make ape noises when we catch ourselves in the mirror. We look like we should be on the Discovery Channel with the rest of the primates.

Are we sick or just primal. If feels so damn good we don't want to stop.

Besides, it makes us well groomed!


Mr & Mrs Pickering.
Location kept secret

I found out that the man that molested me is "anxious" to hear from me.

I found this site before Christmas and found it strange to be reading people's confessions and stories and secrets. After reading a bunch I submitted my own story.

Here it is


After I wrote my nasty secret I felt better. It felt strangely wonderful to tell total strangers something that I had never, ever told anyone else. I was finally to put the whole ordeal behind me.

Then my worst nightmare came true.
I just got a call from a relative. Apparently MAO is in town and is "anxious" to get in touch with me. WTF???!?!

That is exactly what I don't need in my fucking life right now.I'm angry. I'm hostile and I'm scared shitless. What so I do?

me

A beatdown over the phone

There is one thing that would always cause a fight when I was in jail. The phone. Usually there'd be 2 phones to a range which held around 28 guys. 2 phones + 28 guys = a good reason to fight.

This one time I was the one that needed the phone. My cellmate was on it talking to his girlfriend. I already didn't like him because he kept shitting in the cell just after we got locked up, instead of taking his dump before and saving me the stench. I told him repeatedly not to do that, but he was a fucking moron.
So there he was having phone sex with his girl. The other phone was being tied up by the guy that ran things, he was talking to his lawyer. We all knew well enough that when he was on the phone, no one was to bother him. So I didn't.

I went up to my cellmate and tapped his shoulder and asked him to hurry up. He quickly looked up and waved me off. I stepped back and paused, thinking of what I was going to do next. I walked into my cell thinking that perhaps it was time to do some shanking but since I wasn't really a weapons kinda guy I thought I best handle this with my hands, only after I asked him once more.

So I politely (remember I am in JAIL. Being polite is quite strange) went up and gently tapped his shoulder and asked that he hurry as I had to call my lawyer about some upcoming issues. He looked at me, flipped me the bird and told me to fuck off before putting his hand back down to continue his conversation.

I heard him say, "It's okay baby, it's just some piece of shit."

He didn't get the word "shit" out before I started swinging. I threw punch after punch at him. Upercuts, jabs, right hooks. He was trying to defend himself and talk to his girl.(If it was me, I woulda dropped that call right quick).

He managed to land a punch on my cheek that really pissed me off. I grabbed the phone out of his hands and started beating him with it. At one point I him pinned up against the bars with one hand as I beat his face in with the phone.

He lost consciousness and I let him drop to the floor. I wiped off the phone and started making my call, just as the screws showed up. They opened the door and dragged him out, asking what happened. Everyone looked the other way. No one saw anything.
I was never really a violent man and since I was released over 15 years ago I have become model citizen. I am married, have children and a grandchild.

The reason I cannot tell this story is because my new family has no idea of the things I did in my past. Also, I sometimes find myself thinking about the guy and wondering if he was okay because at the time he did not look it.

I'd rather if you didn't post my name or location. Thank-you.

Lesbian with a fetish for cock

This is so weird to me. I'm a lesbian, but I've been really curious about cock lately. I know I'm a lesbian because I LOVE women, love how they taste, smell, walk, look. Women are the only creatures that bring out the ooey-gooey feelings in me. Dykes, specifically, straight women don't do it for me...too whiney. For guys, I've never been able to feel anything but friendship. They are physically unappealing to me...except for their cocks.

I'm not about to cheat on my girlfriend, but sometimes I go to adult friend finders and watch guys jerk off on camera. Then I get myself off with a big dildo while I watch. It's usually only around my fertile time that I feel the urge to do this. Maybe it's because my body wants to reproduce. Oh, and it's just the cock. The balls are totally gross. It's too bad they are so visible when a guy gets an erection.


Name kept secret
Location kept secret