I'm not participating as long as my real name, address, resume, etc... are on the forum.
However, I will respond to this, for personal reasons.
> I remember seeing this crazy woman on her website roughly nine years ago. I had no idea that she was lying about her age.
I mention it on my blog sometimes. The regulars know my age. I know it sounds silly (or something) but I feel like a girl trapped in the body of a woman.
I stopped developing emotionally at 22, when I as forcibly graduated. That's when the world ended.
I only thawed out during 3 years of total isolation in my cave in the woods. Now I can feel again, but it's too late. All the boys are gone ...and I turned into an Old Person.
in 1996, I was at a hacker meeting (about 20 people) and someone announced that we were all invited to a rave at his house. I stupidly assumed that meant me. I genuinely, actually thought of myself as 22. (I still do. But after this, I was not so naive as to assume other people do).
I was so happy to see the blacklights and weed and the crowd stuff. I thought, "My people. I found my people again." I had last seen them in college.
I was genuinely confused why no one would talk to me and acted like I stole somebody's bottle of vodka or something. The girls were friendly, though.
A guy walked up to me and told me, "Someone said you were hassling them, so get out." I asked emphatically who it was and what I said and wanted to talk to them. I don't like conflict; I like cooperation. I stupidly didn't realize that it was just an excuse to make me go away. The guy gave up, wondering why he didn't take me to the person who accused me.
When things were winding down, I left, and as soon as I shut the door, I heard someone say, "Who the hell was SHE? She's my mom's age!"
That was in my late 30s and I look far more horrid now. I literally never look in the bathroom mirror, ever, for any reason.
I suddenly realized what was going on. I thought, "Shit, I forgot. I look like an old person. I forgot that."
At almost every job I've had, starting in my 30s, people avoided me for the opposite reason. Like at christmas parties, I was like a magnet with the wrong polarity. When I finally asked my bos why, he couldn't just blow it off. He said, "Well, Faith, you see, you kind of... well you act and talk and dress like a kid (i.e. in her twenties, not a little kid).
Me (puzzled): "In what way? I don't go around saying "dude" or "rad" or stuff. I thought I talk like everybody else." He said it wasn't specific words, and then said he had work to do so I left.
I didn't know I was doing that. I still don't even know what behavior he was referring to.
I think that really, it was my attitude. I was real serious about work, and even won three awards (at different companies). But I was never grim, like all the "adults." I smiled. I was perky. I was 22. When old men flirted with me, it felt really really creepy.
See, I'm not an (ugh) Old Person trying to act young. I am only like I always was; I just never changed because there was never any reason to.
I saw everyone else change, though. They stopped smoking dope and got married, so they also stopped going out Friday and Saturday. Then they had kids and all happiness in their lives stopped. Permanently.
I never got married and never even went on any dates because everyone treated me weird. Thus, my cave.
When you get old, your heart dies.
Well, mine never did, that's all. Not because I'm "trying" to be or not be something; I just am still how I always was, and with time, that became further and further from what I was "supposed to" be. It almost certainly has something to do with being autistic.
> She's practically telling men that women like getting raped
We do. If I were participating here, I'd link to a study in a medical journal that tried to explain away why 40% of women cum while being raped. The explanations were ridiculous, since they all denied that the woman felt pleasure.
I bet another 40% almost did, but the guy cummed first.
How many weren't about to cum, but loved what was being done to them?
In any case, sure as hell, at least half of the women liked being raped, even if they were frightened about being killed and even if they wanted the guy caught and prosecuted. Sex is always like a little bubble of spacetime that the two people are in. Nothing and no one else exists, only the merging into a single thing that doesn't have a name.
I'd also link to a site for rape counselors, where one of them asked, "Several victims expressed overwhelming guilt because they always think about the rape when they masturbate. They never think about anything else. They eagerly look forward to it. They can't all be lying. I'm confused about this. Why would they like it?"
The answer from the experienced rape counselor was, "Just tell them that it is a very common reaction. [!] Advise them that if they deliberately think about something else, they will eventually stop thinking about their rape."
It also said that sometimes the "victims" decide to be into BDSM for the rest of their lives. They deliberately choose abusive boyfriends. And that some even start hanging around shady dangerous places, presumably, I guess, hoping it or something like it will happen again.
> I have no understanding as to why she believes what she does
Well I believe things because they're true. Please challenge me on them! I love gleefully slaughtering arrogant wrong people.
As for feelings, they aren't understandable, they are only felt. And you can't NOT feel them.
As I tell the timid nerds on my blog, "Feelings require no explanation or justification. Feelings just ARE. It's easier to admit what you feel if you think of it as observing that you feel it, and not see it as a choice. It isn't. Nobody, anywhere, gets to decide what arouses them sexually."
> I do vaguely remember that she fantasized about giving birth to a rape baby and then years later that kid rapes her.
YES! I had forgotten about that. She was a sex prisoner in a castle. She hated his boy, but let it suck life out of her tits and raised it because the man wanted her to and she would do anything he commanded. His father taught him how to whip her "this is how to treat women you love." And she was sooo proud of her son when at puberty, he raped her for the very first time.
Jee-ziss. I'm gonna rub off after this....
> I mean, who fantasizes about that?
Faye Kane. And now that I've said it, maybe you (as the rapist). And probably others here who are too ashamed to admit it to themselves—until they get a boner alone in bed. And after, they feel guilty.
Women think about that kind of stuff too. It's been documented over and over that rape is by FAR the most common female masturbation fantasy. That is in no way controversial. It's easy to find on the net. Not only that, but it's way over 50% and more than twice as common as whatever was in second place.
Doesn't that, like, tell you something?
Perhaps something horrible, that you don't want to know? ...Something about yourself?
See, I used to be a shy geek girl. I ran away from boys, even in college. The only time in my life that I ever went on a date, I was so shy I didn't say a single word. Seeing that something was very wrong, he turned around and took me back to the dorm, concerned about me.
But 15 years ago this November (when I was still nominally cute), I met a girl I knew in high school who later told me on the phone what her husband did to her, things like handcuff her to a bolt in the floor and lock her in a closet all weekend naked, gagged, and blindfolded, with those shotgun ear protectors on.
He always dragged her out into the room at least once in the weekend to whip and fuck while she was still tied up and blindfolded, then he dragged her back in the closet with cum running out of her, and the whole time he never said anything. Sometimes he took her out to be "a party game," and the whole time, she was still handcuffed, gagged, and blindfolded. I never asked her about things like food and water.
And that was just one of the things he did to her.
I tried to pretend it was horrible. "Well, why don't you leave him," I whispered, while masturbating through my pants.
"Because I LOVE it!!"
I almost dropped the phone. I'll never forget that moment. Suddenly, everything in my life fit together for the first time.I couldn't deny what I want anymore... what I am. When she said that, something in me broke through. It was ME.
That admission was multiplied 100 times the following weekend. I had only been fucked once before, in high school (and never in college). It was only once, and he was the only guy to ever see me naked.
But, unimaginably embarrassed and probably beet-red, I took off all my clothes and allowed myself to be tied to their basement workbench, gagged, with my legs forced apart, nonstop continuously for three days (thanksgiving weekend)
When we were setting it up with Di, I told her that her husband and all their friends could "do anything you want to me. Anything."
They did everything. Every stupid redneck in Brunswick whipped me all over with an aquarium tubing taped to a ruler, and fucked me. This included two of them about 12 and 15. You've never been humiliated until you've been tied tightly naked, slapped around, and anally raped by two little kids.
It was at my request, even the position I was tied in. And I had to talk them into doing it. After about 30 seconds, it became nonconsensual, like I wanted. Or thought I did. I would have done anything to make it stop.
Again and again I reminded myself,"This is what you want, remember? You want it more than anything in the world."
Finally, FINALLY, I was being raped.
I'll never, ever do it again because the things they did *HURT*. I didn't know that you could feel such intense pain. I thought, when I was able to think instead of just scream, "Is this what cancer patients feel? Is this what torture feels like? This is horrible!" I didn't know that that much pain existed. And virtually all of it was on my asshole and hairy (but well-trimmed) sex organ. (My ass cheeks and my back were not exposed to their sexual anger).
Finally, I stopped being afraid of who I really am. I am a female animal, born ONLY to be mated, walked away from, and die
...and I LIKE IT. I crave that. I want it more than anything else in the world.
Suddenly, discontinuously, I absolutely wasn't shy anymore. Just the thought made me angry at myself. And I've been way overcompensating ever since.
Inappropriately verbally aggressive. Unrepentant. Intense.
You'll find out if you ever delete my personal info from the forum. I also hope there are people here who watch TWD on AMC, progressives, and ones who understand special relativity.
> She is too old to be obsessed with sex.
So what? It's not a choice. But if I had a choice, I'd still be. I LIKE feeling this way. I'm now a naked sex slave for the guys in a group house (and no rent!) I LOVE feeling this way.
"Too obsessed with sex?" FUCK you!
> She needs to grow up.
I'm sorry Dave, I'm afraid I can't do that.
--=====--
Now blow the explosive bolts, jettison my personal info, and I'll jump into the pool with you—22, and naked.
