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Tears Cried in the Dark

- Tears Cried in the Dark -

   Sometimes you can never go back. A memory, a moment, an instant in the past that beckons to you in strange tongues, urging you to understand things that once meant something but which no longer make a single bit of sense. Because things change! The scent of pine, the taste of maple syrup, and the copper taste of more sanguine nectar than that. Memories, dreams, and nightmares. What happens when all of it blends together? Quintessence. A merging of all things! A new reality, built on parts of the old. It can sound like madness, until you look deeper where you must not, and let the darkness in. The branches of certain evergreen trees appear almost skeletal, when you are a child and playing beneath those trees and looking up to see what lies behind their greenery. How far removed is it... from wanting to see what lies behind the green of trees, to wishing to learn what lies behind the veil that separates this world from the things that lie beyond it? It is just like pulling up a woman's skirt when you have only just met her. She will either enjoy it, and let you do more... or she will slap your face, and perhaps even scream. The act of exploring something new always comes with its' risks, and its' rewards. Sometimes... you have to be prepared to endure the worst, in order to gain the best that awaits you. You have to be prepared for pain. It was not painfully cold, in the winter of which I shall next relate... though when the wind blew just a certain way, it could feel biting and stinging against any exposed skin. The trees that were not evergreen were all bereft of their leaves, and their skeletal branches reaches forth like claws as if they were some sort of dead creatures that somehow still lived in order solely to defy the will of the heavens that sent so cold a season upon them. A tree cannot run from horror! It is rooted, and can only stand and wait for all that comes its' way. If the trees were watching me as I approached my house after doing some errands in town, I cannot imagine what they would have said to me if they could speak. The sky was colorless and bleak, cloudy and dreary in the worst possible way. It was not snowing, at least... but it had been during the previous day and you could tell. When the sky looked like it did on that present occasion, however, it meant a very bad storm was coming... and  as the day was slipping into night, the promise of a storm coming at some point during the dark hours was like the threat of an unwelcome intruder arriving at the worst possible time. Like when a soldier knows he is about to face the possibility of being short, or like that moment when a woman knows she is about to be raped... it is a dreadful inevitability that brings to anyone who experiences it a sense of terror that is not easily dismissed. New England winters could be that way, ferocious when they were at their worst. And the power grid in the town I grew up in was of a lousy condition and in my opinion was never quite up to being as it should have been. When a storm of any severity came, it always seemed to knock out the power for anywhere from hours at best to days at worst. The absolute worst was during one winter where enough trees knocked over enough power lines and other things so as to cause a total loss of power that lasted a good week or two... before it could get fixed and the power could be restored, and even though eventually everything was alright it was like a living hell in the meantime. Most sane people had a smart enough mind to evacuate, but not my family! We stayed, and that meant cutting wood and gathering materials to keep the fireplace blazing. It also, so meant lighting up the kerosene lamps and hoping they did not explode and that nothing caught fire. All manner of inconveniences and miseries, and all because my family was stubborn. But they had a point! It was our house, our home, and we had to stay, we had to weather the storm and persevere. Upon this occasion, there was no storm of that magnitude coming, though I liked not the look of the sky where it darkened in places. The side porch was crumbling in spots, and the driveway had plants and countless wild flowers growing up through the cracks and broken pavement in places. No one was left who could drive... it was just my grandmother living there, and myself at that time. And she was in the hospital at the moment, so I was all alone in that house except for being able to contact my friends and others who I cared about and who cared about me online. People not related to me by blood, but who meant just as much to me as my family ever had. I never liked the winter, and never shall. To me, it is a painful time.

   A season where certain memories come to the fore, and many of them are painful ones to think about. That is what winter always was for me in life, except for during the years when the events that became those memories were first taking place. Back then, I was too little and too innocent to know that all the hope I had was being taken from me by a family that was selfish and cruel, and uncaring of my feelings. I kept on having hope, even when it was too late to! I stayed rooted like a great tree, I stood my ground, and I fought tooth and claw for a better future. The fact that I am still alive, and still have hope to cling to in life, and the promise of a brighter future still... that should tell you that I survived. And thrived, to know the better tomorrow that I had been seeking! But on that winter, now many long years gone in the past... I felt hopeless and drained of the promise of anything better awaiting me. Just as how I suffered in the name of my art in life, I also suffered in the name of my existence. We did not often have thunder in the wintertime, but just my luck that year and on that occasion we did. I spied a fork of lightning off a long way in the western skies, and I did not like the look of it at all. It made me shiver far more than I think the cold did, and I was quick to hurry into the house once I heard the thunder booming a bit off in comparison to the lightning. Ever since I was little, storms like this bothered me, frightened me, and did make me feel ill at ease. The house was a ranch style house more suited to California than it was for the state of Massachusetts, and in the summer it retained the heat whilst in the winter it was very cold and a bit drafty as well. The house had mostly stucco walls, and in my teenage years I had put my fair share of holes in those walls when I was angry. My mother had shown similar anger at times, and never failed to likewise take things out on the house. If a house could feel pain, that place was tortured in the extreme, tortured near to death but without the mercy of death coming to claim it. I did not always think that, but over time I had come to. Sometimes, it still felt like home to me... other times, if felt like a prison that I feared I might never escape. A prison, or an insane asylum! And I never could quite decide which was a more apt and accurate comparison to make. I had already spoken with the doctors on the phone, and the condition that my grandmother was in was decent enough that she would be discharged and ready to be on her way home within the week. At least this time, they would not need to put her in a recovery place before doing so! I tried not to think about things like that, preferring to put all worried out of my mind. I walked into my bedroom and removed my winter coat, hat, and gloves before turning on the computer and selecting on it some music to play. Vivaldi seemed a poor choice at present, that sort of music being more suited for summer than winter... so, I decided to play a bit of Charlotte Church's music instead. I loved her singing, and it never failed to soothe me! She could sing in such a blissfully angelic operatic way that it transported me from the miseries of my life to more heavenly climes. She had the voice of an angel, and in her youth... since childhood... she could sing with an unmatched perfection songs that were so sweet to my ears that tears came to my eyes whenever she sang them. As her voice came forth from my computer's speakers, I laid down on my bed and sighed a long and hard sigh. A sigh born from pain. I glanced over at the shrine to my patron gods and goddesses that I had set up next to the bed and in the middle of the back wall of the room, just in front of some shelves I had set up there containing all manner of objects of importance to me and to my spiritual beliefs and practices. A painting of the Greek poetess Sappho hung on the wall opposite form where the bed was, and over the bed hung a painting of the goddess Lilith. She who was my supreme patron goddess. I had many paintings hanging on all the walls of my room, and many statues dedicated to various deities set up in places of honor throughout. It was a sacred space, and I had consecrated the room long ago when I first began to walk a darker and far more serious mystical path than the one I had begun with. One wall had a small hole in it that had been caused by first my fist and then the doorknob of the bedroom door when I was a teenager. My mother had broken an almost identical hole on the other side, in the room that used to be hers but which was at that time that I am presently relating a den that I was slowly converting into a girl's room that would in time come to contain all the things a little girl could ever love and adore. Things that I could enjoy now!

   Now that there was no one left to tell me I had to live only as a boy. I was indulging my femininity, a lot more... more and more with each passing day... and at that time I was living full time as a woman. I went by the name Jessica, and it felt right to me. I was born a hermaphrodite, and because of that I had fully functioning male genitalia but in addition to all manner of feminine physical traits and aspects. By all rights, I could pass fully as either a male or a female, with little to no difficulty. Back then, it was the most ideal thing I could do, to live as Jessica instead of as J. I had never used my birth name, only ever the very first initial of that name... so even living as a woman if someone ever happened to call me J. it would not bother me in the least since that initial could also stand for Jessica as easily as the name I had been assigned at birth. A name that is dead to me even now in life! For when I discard a thing that I hate and despise, I discard it forever. And after doing so, I never look back. I had a hard time reconciling that people online, especially on some transgender dating sites, sometimes told me that it was unusual that I still preferred women over men. They insisted, that a transgender woman should only be with a man, as they told me how it made them feel more like women when being intimate with men. But they also had always insisted that I should undergo hormone replacement therapy! Yet... I never felt like I needed it in order to feel fully like a woman. As a woman, I was a lesbian and it was just as simple as that... and so I saw no reason why I needed to be with a man just because I was no longer living as a man myself. But it was hard trying to find a woman who was alright with being with someone like me. Men were always up for it, and I had been with men before... as well as women... but now I was searching for someone to share the rest of my life with, someone who I had to be able to stand looking at each day when we woke up together. To me, that someone had to be a woman, and I was not prepared to settle for anything less. I felt very lonely that night, and ere long as I listened to Charlotte Church sing... I felt myself becoming increasingly aroused by the sound of her voice. I sat down in front of the computer, and brought up the search engine. I looked for a site called Nasty Cam, which was basically a video sex chat roulette site... it was totally random, and you would never know just who was going to show up on your webcam. It could be a man, it could be a woman, or it could be a couple. Most of the time, sadly, the site had a bit of an overabundance of men that frequented it... and not the sort of men I preferred when I did engage in sexual activities with men. Given that I worked at nights as a prostitute on the bad end of town, I did have to please men quite a bit, and not always the type of men that I found attractive. Because I had my personal preference for women, I preferred men who were more feminine than masculine. I also liked my experiences with other transgender women as well, but sadly most of the men who became clients of mine were of the big, burly macho variety that I despised. They never knew I despised them though! I never let it slip to my clients if I found them ugly or unattractive, or just plain disgusting sometimes. I had to make each man believe he was an Adonis, and I had to be each one's personal Aphrodite. But in moments like this, when I was engaging in sexual activities for fun and pleasure rather than for money, I always hoped to find a willing woman to engage in them with. I was going to be staying home for the night, since the weather was too bad to go out and work in. I had plenty of money saved up for nights of this sort when there was no way to ply my trade, so I did not have to worry about it. I watched, feeling a bit bored as ugly guy after ugly guy came up on the webcam site's display screen. My cam was switched on, so anyone popping up could see me just like I could see them. Sometimes... it was pure undisguised mutual disgust that played on my face and the other person's at the exact same time... so, it was time to try and find another. And then another. And I waited for the site to shuffle through all the people using the site around that hour. It was only more and more of the same, which was quite distressing to me. It seemed like all the attractive people were elsewhere! And here I was, stuck with a hundred varieties of Mister Wrong. I ran my hand over my face, and thought to myself: “On nights like this... I just honestly want to scream!” Then, much to my shock and surprise, something changed. It seemed at last that there was something worth being on that site for at that time after all. I felt a sense of relief, at what I beheld.

   She was a goth girl, probably very under the legal age and likely no older than thirteen. Fourteen, if I was to be generous about her age! That site had no way of keeping minors off of it, since anyone could just click “Yes, I am eighteen or older and I am prepared to see adult, explicit sexual content!” and then it would let you make full use of the site and everything it had to offer. No age verification necessary at all. That made it highly easy to use, and sometimes young boys or girls would hop on it in order to get a taste of things they would not be allowed to see on any site requiring age verification. I had quite a few intimate moments on that site with people who were definitely a whole lot younger than eighteen... and those were actually good, positive, and pleasurable experiences for me when they did happen. That, was why I did not think twice about sticking around to see what this girl was all about. I stopped the roulette feature so that I could stay connected to this girl's video, and it looked very much like she was not just moving on past mine as soon as she saw me either, I was happy and delighted to see... not like so many other highly beautiful looking people sometimes did. Instead, she stared at me somewhat intently before smiling prettily and then saying to me cheerfully in a voice as young sounding as I had expected to hear coming from her: “Hi there! So yeah, anyway... my name is Lena. And, I honestly don't normally just go around chatting up older men or women but... you look really, really different from all the other people that I normally see on this site. If you're a guy, you look very cool! If you're a girl... you look amazing. Either way, please... please don't go switching me off just because of my age. Okay? Give me a chance! Believe me, I'm cool.” I smiled and definitely did not switch her off. I was old enough to easily be this girl's father or mother, I was thirty eight years old at that time and I would be thirty nine come the next March coming up... once spring finally arrived and winter was gone for another year. And, imagining a girl like her as my daughter... and imagining being sexually intimate with her in the most forbidden and taboo of relationships, that honestly is the kind of thing that even today turns me on a lot. I remember, on that day, once I got home from being out in the cold I had put on a comfortable pair of baggy scarlet colored silk harem style pantaloons. The kind that have drawstring at the waist and elastic at the ankles. They are also the kind of clothing that makes you feel like you are not wearing anything at all. I paired that with a matching red crop top that mostly resembled a sports bra with lovely gold designs upon it. I was happy to be out of my sweat pants and no longer in need of wearing a sweater! The heat was up far enough in the house that my room was toasty, and I felt comfortable in what I was now wearing despite it being more properly summer attire. I kept my body totally shaved and my head and face shaved fully as well, so I was as totally hairless as a person can get. The only hair left on me was my eyelashes. For makeup, I was wearing some foundation that matched my sallow skin tone and I had on a very deep and dark shade of blood red lipstick which was my favorite color of lipstick to wear. I had black eyeliner on and black eye shadow with some red eye shadow above it. I was doing what is called the cat eyes look... so I was drawing a lot of attention with my makeup to my eyes especially. I had a black dot in the place where women from India oft have theirs, in the location of a person's spiritual third eye. Between one's eyes... and just above where the brows would be on anyone but me. Given I shaved my eyebrows totally off, as I mentioned before. I had a bit of blush added to my cheeks, and the overall look of my makeup was an exotic and very unique one that most often only dancers do, or so I have been told. My eyes are a grayish blue color and almond shaped, my face is round but with pronounced high cheek bones, and my nose is mostly on the aquiline side. That is how I look now, and it was how I looked then also. This, then, is what Lena saw when she looked at me. What I saw when I looked at her... was perfection. She had round, pleasant features and a cute look to her face. Cute and beautiful all in one sweet package! I liked what I saw quite a bit. She had deep brown eyes, jet black hair that was straight and which hung in dark curtains of pure ebony night from her head, and she had neatly trimmed bangs above her arched eyebrows that had to have been the most perfectly shaped eyebrows one could imagine a person having. I half wondered, if she hadn't shaved her natural ones and simply drawn these on with makeup instead!

   Her skin was naturally pale... but she wore snow white foundation makeup on her face that made her look very much like a young vampire. She had on black lipstick, black eyeliner, and black eye shadow, and she also was doing the cat eyes look with it, just like I was. She wore a silver nose ring which given her young age and knowing how parents could be most of the time had to be a clip-on nose ring rather than it being an actual piercing of any kind. Either way, she looked very attractive with it! She wore a black Victorian style girl's dress in what is termed the Gothic Lolita style. Short puffy sleeves, with the dress being overall frilly and highly feminine in all the right ways that I find simply adorable. When she got up to check her webcam for a moment in order to adjust it, I saw that the dress was knee length and she had on a pair of silky looking bloomers beneath it. The dress was black, and so were the bloomers. Once she sat back down and adjusted her dress a bit, making sure the wide ribbon she wore about her waist was not coming untied, she smiled at me eagerly and I said to her: “It's alright, worry not! It will be a true pleasure to spend time with you tonight, Lena. I was, actually, staring to think it was going to be one of those lonelier sort of evenings for me. Just call me J, and for all intents and purposes you can just consider me to be a man rather than a woman. Though to be honest, I was born kind of being both. It's called an intersex condition... to be honest with you. I hope that doesn't scare you off, or anything!” She noticed my pronounced abdomen, the shape of my hips, and my small breasts that at first glance a lot of people assume to be simply overly developed chest muscles that stick out a bit. She said to me in reply: “Yeah, I've met a couple of hermaphrodites on here before, but they always had kind of messed up penises, if I had to be blunt about it. Is yours like that too?” and I told her, in reply to her question... the absolute truth. I said to her: “No, nothing like that at all. Mine is totally normal and fully functional too, so if we do get intimate it's going to look like any other man's penis when you see it. I have a bit of a mound above it, but that is about it. Nothing messed up in any way.” She seemed relieved to hear me say that, and she clapped her hands very childishly. Then, she walked over to a toy box by a wall behind her and got out a teddy bear that she held when she sat back down at her computer again. “So, I am... if we are both going to be honest with each other... thirteen years old as of this past September. And, I'm a Virgo but definitely not a virgin. Surprised to hear that?” I told her truthfully: “Not really... I mean I just simply figured that a virgin wouldn't have much of a use for a site like Nasty Cam!” She giggled a bit at me saying that, then she told me: “Yeah, good point! So, what's next then? Okay, so I'm really the extra girly type, and probably I'm mentally a whole lot younger than my physical age. Like mentally... I might actually be more like ten years old. But a smart super genius level ten year old! You cool with that too?” I told her that I was, explaining after that: “Mentally, I can be that young too sometimes, so I think we'll get along just fine.” She clapped her hands again, and said to me: “Fantastic! What do you think of my stuffed bear?” I told her that I thought it was cute and she then threw it across the room into a pile she had there of all kinds of stuffed animals. “Yeah, it is adorable, but it's just going to be in the way with what we're going to be getting up to soon! Anyway, so my mom and dad are out tonight, having a late romantic dinner at their favorite restaurant together. That means I have the house all to myself. It was getting a bit lonely here, so I figured why not come pop on this site and see if I can find a little fun for a while. You up for a bit of fun with me, J?” I nodded my head and told her that I was. The lighting in my room was dim most of the time, and it looked like the lighting in Lena's room was not much brighter. It was a dim, warm, cozy sort of ambiance, and it looked like we both favored it for the most part. Now, it was not so dim that you could not see everything clearly and perfectly! As I said, it was more that cozy, warm kind of lighting, a romantic kind of lighting. Just right for an intimate encounter such as this was shaping up to be. Lena began to untie the wide ribbon about her waist and after she did so she took it off and tossed it over her shoulder with a mischievous playing upon her face. I smiled, and I began to stroke my manhood between my legs, fondling it through the fabric of my pants and underwear. I then adjusted my webcam to that Lena could see everything that I was doing. She licked her lips, longingly.

   “Mm, that looks good, Mister J! I'd like some of that between my legs.” I told her how much I wanted to put my cock between her legs, and how much I wanted to fuck her with it. “Would you fuck me with it if you were my daddy?” she asked me very naughtily whilst lifting up the skirts of her dress until they were pulled up all the way to her waist. After which she started to feel her pussy through the soft, silky material of her bloomers. I told her in reply to her question: “I would fuck you even harder if I was your daddy, little girl! Especially if I was your daddy.” She began to finger herself a bit through her clothes, as she made sounds of pleasure prior to telling me: “Take it out so I can see it, Daddy! Your little girl is horny for you... oh, so horny. And just for you! Only for you.” I untied my pants and pulled them down, and took my penis out from my underwear. I began to stroke it with my right hand... and it was starting to get wet and slick as I did so. My eyes were captivated by Lena's beauty, and I wished she was there in my room, laying upon my bed and opening her legs to receive me. As if she could read my mind, she in the next instant pulled down her bloomers and slid them down her legs, taking them fully off. She sat back down with her legs spread, her very nice thighs looking inviting to me. With no undergarments to get between her hand and her cunt, I watched her begin to finger herself. In between, she played with her clit a bit in order to excite herself further. She was wet before either of us knew it, as was I, and as I did stroke and pull upon my cock in an expert rhythm that felt extremely good... Lena continued to play with herself, with both of us moaning and making sounds of pleasure that increased as we continued in our mutual self pleasuring. “Oh, Daddy! Oh Daddy, fuck me! Fuck your naughty little girl. I'm a whore, I'm a slut! I'm your whore, your slut. Fuck me! Fuck me like a beast!” Lena cried out, and I said just as many obscene things to her as he was saying to me. She took off her entire dress so that she was naked, and her body was every bit as stocky as it appeared with her dress on. She was not skinny or slender, or anything like that, she was stocky and sturdy in her build. She had meaty thighs, and the beginnings of what I knew one day were going to be a pair of incredible breasts. I actually honestly do prefer women and girls who have a bit more to them, rather than less, and she was perfect in my eyes, exactly the kind of girl I found incredibly sexy and sensuous. She was not overweight in any way, but she was a big girl, and I had a bit of a passion for big girls like her. She sat back down and resumed fingering herself with an increased intensity. On seeing her splendid body, my cock became even harder and she said about it: “Oh, that is so nice! Such a nice, big dick you have. All the better to fuck the hell out of me with. Fuck me, Daddy, rape your little girl good and proper! I want it, oh Daddy I want you inside of me so badly.” I told her I wanted to fuck her, that I wanted to rape her good and proper, that I wanted to stick my cock up inside of her and fuck her until she could take no more. And during the course of all this, I began to approach the impending climax of my masturbation. She was almost ready to orgasm as well, and after a bit longer I could hold it back no more. I felt myself orgasm, as my cum shot out and got all over me. I put my finger in a bit of the cum, licked it off my finger and swallowed it. Lena was excited, beyond all measure to control herself, upon seeing this... and as she did climax and reach her orgasm, her body shuddered, and she was very clearly sweating a great deal. Much more so than I was. She thence did as I had, and licked a bit of her own cum, which she proceeded to swallow. Then she sat back in her chair, looking somewhat tired out but very satisfied as an ecstatic smile was upon her face. I was smiling too, just as ecstatically. She said to me in between panting and sighing: “Oh, Mister J! That was beyond all my expectations. You make an amazing daddy for your little girl.” I asked her about that: “So Lena, do you really wish I was your daddy?” and she confessed to me: “Oh, I do! I really, really do. I mean, that is like the ultimate taboo, isn't it? The sweetest forbidden fruit! Except... my actual father is hardly the kind of man I'd enjoy having sex with. He's boring, plain, and looks and acts just like every man does. It wasn't him who took my virginity, that was our creepy neighbor. He's in jail now, the bastard. He came over to our house and raped me when my parents were out. That happened two years ago... when I was eleven. That made me realize that older men just have a thing for little girls sometimes. I understand it.”

   She then elaborated: “I mean, sure he was creepy, and he hit me and choked me and that makes him a bastard because that really, really hurt. But... aside from the initial pain of having my fucking cherry get popped by his pecker, it felt kind of good. That made me want to experience it with someone nice, with someone I actually would find attractive and not creepy. Someone older like he was, who is attracted to little girls like me, who could give me... a better sexual experience to enjoy. An experience with no pain to ruin the moment and sour things! From tonight onward, I will consider you to be my first. This way, I can try to forget all about what happened two years ago.” I asked her: “And just where did you learn the ins and out of self pleasure, little girl?” She then blushed as she told me: “I watched a lot of porn online and as you may or may not know there is literally nothing you can't find online if you look hard enough. I saw some videos of women playing with themselves, and I just copied what I saw them do. Plus, it is not as if my mom and dad never had that all important talk with me. You know! The talk.” And I knew, precisely, what she meant. The birds and the bees, how sex works and all that kind of thing. I was well aware that sometimes, some parents also discussed self pleasure during that talk. My family covered it with me, and by the look of it Lena's parents covered it with her. “I understand! I get what you mean.” I told her, and she seemed relieved by that. She then confided in me something that some people might find rather disturbing. She said: “You know, it's probably sick of me but I have rape fantasies a lot! And you're exactly, the kind of man I fantasize about being raped by. Is that wrong of me, J... does that make me crazy or something?” and I thought deeply about what to say in response to that, and I decided just to be honest with her. I told her in answer to her question: “You're no sicker or crazier than I am! I have fantasies sometimes... really wild and fucked up ones too... about raping little girls just like you. I think some of it honestly comes from things I did in some of my past lives. I believe in reincarnation! And... I think some things, you just cannot help because it carries over from what came before. It is a bit similar to how there's no way to control what happens when you dream... I mean, sure, sometimes you might be able to control your dreams just a little tiny bit. But, mostly... what happens in them, simply happens on some kind of weird-ass, primal level. It just... it just is! Well, the things we fantasize about, they're just like our dreams and for exactly the same reason. What happens in them simply happens, and there is no controlling it. No fighting it, either. We can either accept that it is a part of us on some deeper level... or, we can go truly crazy hating ourselves for the things we dream about or fantasize about. In the end, we have that choice at least! But even so, it's more like the illusion of a choice rather than an actual choice. Mostly because only one of those two options makes any sense at all! Only one, we can truly live with.” She pondered all of that for a bit without saying anything... she kept on smiling though, and then she so said unto me: “Ah, Mister J! I'm glad I met you on here tonight. I was actually thinking of trying to kill myself for a while now because I thought I was turning evil or something. But, you made me see that it  isn't evil to have fantasies, even if those fantasies are of things society says are bad. That in and of itself doesn't make us bad, it's what we choose to do about it that's either good or bad. And what we did here, tonight, it was a good outlet for both of us! For my fantasies, and yours. I had a whole lot of nasty, dirty fun with you tonight, Mister J. Did you enjoy yourself, too?” I nodded my head in agreement and I said to her in reply: “I did, Lena! It was the most fun I have had in a while. And... sometimes dirty, nasty fun can be preferable compared to boring good clean fun like most people prefer.” Then, after that she said to me something extremely, highly strange. She said: “Hey, if you ever see Lilith again... tell her Lena is doing great! Okay?” I went a bit paler than I normally am when I heard her mention Lilith. I assumed, it was just someone she thought was a friend she and I had in common. But how could that be? I had only just met Lena tonight, so there was no way we even could have a friend in common. I asked her: “Hey, Lena... what Lilith are you talking about? Just so I can be sure.” She then told me: “Oh, by the Devil! I mean the original Lilith, the one from the Garden of Eden, the one who you lived with by the shores of the Red Sea after everything in Eden went all to pieces. That Lilith!” She smiled at me, and knowingly.

   She then said to me: “I noticed you have a painting of her over your bed, and I just figured that you'd only have that if you have a personal connection with the goddess herself. Like I do!” and I nodded and replied: “You could definitely say that I do.” and I chuckled a bit. Perhaps somewhat in a sinister way... though I had not intended for it to come out that way. Lena then chuckled in a similar manner, and she told me: “Yeah, I was right about you! You're cool, way cooler than most of the idiots on this site. All, of whom I try to avoid like the plague.” I laughed and admitted to her: “Me too! I was lucky to find you on here, Lena, and you were lucky to find me. It is totally random, after all.” She then dressed herself as she told me: “It wasn't luck, J. It was the will of the goddess, of Lilith, that brought us together for our fun time tonight. You were hoping for it on some deep level, as was I. Listen... you didn't call me out on how I mentioned you living with Lilith on the shores of the Red Sea. You didn't ask me how I knew you had been there with her in a past life. How come?” Once she was fully dressed again, she sat back down on her chair and looked at me, staring intensely. Once she was focused on me, I cleared my throat and I replied: “I know that you... you know things about me that you should not be able to know. I would like to know how it is you know such things, but at the same time I want to respect your wishes if you have no desire to tell me.” She sighed, then smiled and said: “Ah! A true gentleman. Despite the fact, that so many religions consider you to be the Devil. That's admirable, J! Very, admirable. But, look... the thing is, I am Lilith's youngest sister and she's told me things. Some of those things were about you. I cannot tell you when it was I saw her last... she wouldn't want me to... but I can tell you that she contacts me a lot through email. I'm adopted, I'm not my father's blood daughter, and if I told you about what actually my earliest childhood memories really are prior to my adoption... they'd  just chill you to the bone. Even you! So I have to keep a few secrets at least, and preserve a bit of the mystery of my life. Understand?” I nodded my head, and told her that I did, saying: “I understand the need for secrecy sometimes, Lena! I was a member of a very dark and sinister spiritual order for a while, and the woman who claimed to be mentoring me in the dark arts discovered very quickly that I knew things that some human beings, some mortals, would kill to learn. She called me a Magical Prometheus, and said I had knowledge that only a god or a goddess would know... divine knowledge, of all manner of hidden things, things of a sort that some minds are simply not ready for. Some can accept what I could teach them, and some cannot. The ones who cannot, are not ready for it! So I keep certain things a secret until they are ready... but only for the benefit of the right person or people... to be revealed.” Lena then opened a drawer in her desk and I watched her take out from it an inverted pentagram pendant with blood red gemstones decorating it. It was upon a silver chain. Upon doing that, she looked at it, smiling, before putting it around her neck. It was then, that she said unto me: “I get it! I totally do. Listen, I would like to give you my email address so we could keep in touch, but I have reasons of my own to keep that a secret too. It isn't that I wouldn't trust you with it, it's just that... anyway, I wish we had more time so I could learn some of those things, the divine things that only you could teach me. But, I'm kind of tired right now and I think I need to be hitting the sack early. Sleepy time for me!” and she yawned and stretched a bit. Then, she continued by telling me: “Before I do though, I just want you to know I will never forget you or the things we did and shared with each other tonight. If I ever start up a diary, I'll write about it for sure, leaving your age out of it so nobody will think we did anything wrong together.” I then exclaimed: “But, it was not wrong at all, Lena! Be sure to remember that, and never let anyone convince you that this was a mistake.” Upon hearing me say that, she explained: “Oh, I know! I know, J. It's alright... I never cared what society had to say about certain things as it is. What is wrong for others, can be right for some. For people like us, it really is different, since we get to decide for ourselves what's right and wrong, and the usual rules don't apply to us at all. My heart is in the right place, don't you worry about that! Black as my heart may be... or so my parents always tell me. At any rate... good night and pleasant dreams, my unholy demon lover! Ave Satani!” She then stood up, did a polite bow and curtsy, and turned off her computer for the night.

   The chat roulette videos randomized again after Lena's webcam switched off, and I walked over to the bed and laid down a bit to catch my breath and think for a while. “If I am such a woman, why would I... why would I feel so right being a man for Lena?” I mused silently in my mind. I needed to still live as a woman at that time, it was the only way I could work as a prostitute and bring enough money in to live on. I was unable to work a normal job, and I could not drive either. I had too many psychological issues for either to even be possible! But being a prostitute was traumatizing me more and more, since in truth some of the men who I serviced abused me terribly. Some in far worse ways than others. I decided that I would only keep doing my present line of work, until my grandmother was stable enough health-wise to not be in and out of the hospital all the time. In the meantime, I would just keep searching online to find someone to take care of me financially and to love me. Someone I could love in return. If it ended up a man I was fated to fall in love with, so be it. But the man had to be more feminine than masculine, and he had to have a lovely feminine beauty both on the outside and on the inside. If love bloomed between us, then it was meant to be! I planned to keep to my standards regarding things, after all. That was truly, for me, one of many moments wherein I began to think a bit beyond the traditional limitations of how it is society perceives gender and sexuality. I was thinking in more fluid terms, outside of the binary that a lot of people are trapped in where there is only male and female and nothing else. I was both, and yet at the same time I was also neither! For the right person, I could become whatever their heart most desired me to be... and if it felt right enough on my end, then the persona that I adopted for them could become a manifestation of the real, true me, the me at my very core. But for that to happen, I had to love who I was with both physically and in all the deeper ways as well. In addition to that, I had to learn a lot more, experiment more in the matters of both gender and sexuality, until I understood these things perfectly so that I could speak with authority and conviction about it. I was on the right track, though! So... I thereon rested for only a while, a brief while, before deciding it was time to go back online and thus resume my search on the dating sites. It was fun, what Lena and I did together, but any trysts like that would never result in what I was hoping for. I needed to reserve them only for pleasure, whilst for love I had to look in more respectable and likely places. Later that night, I wrote some poems and those were poems that I eventually posted on all of the poetry sites that I was a member of. One of which I still am a member of. And... those poems are still on it, to be read by all those who chance to come upon them whilst looking through my writings. Not all things that are dark, in truth, are evil... and neither Lena nor I could be said to be truly evil. The ways in which we could accurately be said to be twisted, were but manifestations of things from lives past. It was, evidently, karmic that such as we were fated to continue to feel, know, and remember such things in a conscious way. And we had no more control of such remembering than a person can control recalling what they did the past week or on any specific, given day. The mind, heart, soul and spirit are all connected... whether we like it or not. We can hate ourselves for what we are, or we can accept ourselves and approach life with a keener understanding. I chose acceptance, never hate. I went to the bathroom to wash my face and clean off my makeup for the night, and when I did gaze in the mirror whilst washing... my face looked like a decayed skull with green fire where the eyes are on a living person. I had seen this terrible visage so many times before, that it no longer held the power to in any way cause me terror or fear. I felt only disgust, and realized this was a creation of all of the dreadful self loathing that people had caused me to feel over all the years of my life. I washed my eyes, and had to close them to do that, and after I opened them again I saw a little girl of indeterminate gender instead  of the horror my eyes met previously. I began to cry, because this was the innermost me... my true inner child... the core me that I tried to protect my whole life. But that me was nearly helpless, and also it was easily frightened and prone to listening to the voices in my head that sometimes relentlessly whispered a thousand worries, fears, and potential terrors to the degree that I half worried that it might so paralyze any sense of maturity I ever had, causing me to revert to the personality and mindset of that little child.

   Fear can be highly convincing, after all! And fear can lead to self doubt, and other terrible things. As soon as the apparitions in the mirror went away, I was able to finish washing my face, and I used some of the lotions that I had to keep my skin healthy. I was happy that no one could see the skeletal visage I was subjected to, but I was mournful that no one could ever see the child who I truly was and still am to this very moment. If they could, they would seek to protect me rather than to hurt me, and my life all in turn would be a great deal easier and happier by far because of that. When did that child become pushed aside, giving way to the darkness I eventually embraced? And yet! I never fully abandoned that child... I never fully cast aside my innermost light and all of its' beauty and warmth. Lena had a certain coldness to her that I had also noticed in Lilith many times over the centuries upon centuries during which I had known her. I could never be like that, and I was grateful that I could not. Winter is a chill enough time... and so, during such seasons it is wise to keep close to what is warmest within us. Yet, there was a chill in my room that came about suddenly when at length after all else was finished for the night and I had a mind to go to sleep at last. As I did lay awake in my bed, thinking about the future, and trying hard not to think too deeply about the past both in this life and in countless others... I felt a dark presence chance to enter the room. It seemed to be emanating from the closet, the door of which I had left open quite by accident when I changed into my nightgown prior to retiring for the remainder of the night. I tried hard to close my eyes, and to allow sleep to come upon me, hoping that as tormented as my dreams could be, perhaps in them at least I could find refuge from whatever it was I sensed. That terrible, overwhelming, dark presence... a familiar one, but one that always carried with it a sense of dread when it manifested. I knew that presence! Intimately. I could hear breathing, a woman's breathing, and the sound of footsteps as something stepped out of the closet and crept stealthily towards the very bed on which I lay. It got a lot colder all of a sudden, and I drew my blankets more closely about my body. I wanted desperately not to look at whatever was there... not even to see a hint of it or an outline of it in the absolute pitch black. But no darkness is ever totally absolute, and even with all the lights off in the room my eyes were ever just enough able to become accustomed to the darkness that I could still make certain things out. Forms and shapes, outlines and such... and sometimes, given my uncanny abilities of sight, I could make out a great deal more besides. At other times, when it was this dark, I would wake up in the night and scream after which I could only fall asleep again if I had at least a faint nightlight on. But this was not a dream, not a night terror beginning! Something was with me in the dark. Her voice whispered to me, from the end of my bed, ans I could see a vague woman's shape coming from there. Her hair appeared wild, and I knew her eyes were intense to gaze into... so I avoided doing so, lest I fall into her power utterly. And so she said unto me, her voice as I said in a whisper: “I see you spent some time with my sister Lena! That is good, my beloved. Very good! She is young, and wild in her heart, and burning with needs that she is barely able to comprehend where such will end up taking her in life. We all burn inside, since we all are of the same divine fire in our origins. Even in this time of year, the coldest, we blaze with the same hot flames that have consumed us since before the dawn of time as humans count it. Thank you for taking a bit of time to lavish my sister with the attention she craved! It was not selfless... but it was considerate.” Then, I heard her move to the side of the bed, where she crept down... I felt her breath draw near to my right cheek, my eyes unable to close as she whispered to me next: “I wonder, sometimes... is the reason you decided to live only as a woman, and nothing else or perhaps more, because in some way it for you is a way of being like your first love in this present life, Andrea, whom you lost to death? A sort of way of trying to keep her alive within yourself, partly to honor her and not forget her, and partly to ensure in a twisted fashion, that she will never be forgotten. When you were unable to save her, I wonder if it did not snap something in your mind, planting the seeds that waited until finally their time to blossom was at hand! I am not saying this is the case... sleep on it tonight, beloved. That is all I am suggesting.” And then Lilith crept off and was gone. Tears formed in my eyes, and I cried myself to sleep trying to forget.
Written by Kou_Indigo (Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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