Author Topic: Giant Tess  (Read 942 times)

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Giant Tess
« on: March 27, 2018, 08:40:07 AM »

Update:  I've since written a prequel you don't have to read to understand the character, but it couldn't hurt.

As with most of my early morning submissions, this one came to me in a dream.  Now, I don't really have a place to put it.  It's not 0ne on 0ne, because of a lifetime of victimization, it doesn't really belong in Gang Rape, even though it happens.  There's no Lesbian, or Gay Male action, and she's not Transgender.  However, I believe that subconsciously it might have been my mind processing the Uncanny Valley I run into when I open my mouth to strangers.  I'm a big guyl.  5'12" and around 200 pounds, so when I talk, it's so strange to hear a woman's deep voice coming out.  It apparently bothers people, especially men, and I have been assaulted because of it.  Typically homophobia, because the least likely explanation is that a woman actually looks like this, their eyes slide right past the heart shaped beard, and it just doesn't register.  

I lost the best job I ever had, because a man attacked me in the walk-in, so I couldn't work there any more without flashbacks.  When he apologized to me for it, he admitted that my voice is what triggered him.  He is a sensitive guy, Jewish, and a massage therapist who worked in the kitchen, because he genuinely likes cooking.  The last person I would have expected to lash out violently.  

So, this is somewhere on the spectrum of Intersex.  Narrowing to focus on 1 dimension in the multi-axis standards of gender roles.  Women are shorter than men.  If they aren't, then just like any other deviation from the norm, which makes men consider their worldview, or cover their insecurity with anger, she's punished for it.  I just decided to put her where the other unwanted characters go, because they don't fit in anywhere else...


Theresa (M/F Trigger Flashbacks)

I ran into him, on the street.  "Oh!"  Literally, "Hahaha, sorry."  Patted my chest, but he looked up.  Surprised, and his mouth hanging open, but coming around the corner, he bumped his chin right into my breast.  Leaving a bit of a sore spot.

"Uh," he finally blinked.  "How tall are you?"

"Huh!"  they always ask that.  "Six foot, eight."

Then, almost inevitably.  "You must play basketball, then."

"No," usually asked, it's a FAQ.  "I never played basketball."  I have this same conversation, so many times a day, just walking down the street.  I have to guess that they think it might be something in common.  "I'm not coordinated enough, truth be told."  Yeah, they taught us it in gym class, and I even remember that it was invented by a man names Naismith, but you don't just have to get the ball in the hoop which is 10' off the ground.  You also have to be able to dribble it, catch, and throw it accurately, so no.  I can't play basketball, but there was a low wall there.  Over a stoop, instead of the fences this one had a stone railing with posts underneath it, but he smiled.  Let his arms down, and tightened up his chest.  

"Well, it doesn't bother me."  Clearly it did, but he had something to prove.  "So, what's it like?"  Another FAQ, you have to understand that there's really no other topic of conversation, anyone else wants to talk about.  Unless it's related, like basketball, under the assumption that it must be easy for me, being so tall.

"Normal?  I don't know, it's just like my life.  I don't know what it's like being short."

"I'm not short."

"For a woman, I wasn't talking about you."  Why am I even lingering, and talking to him at this point?  Obviously Napoleon complex, do I have something to prove?  It isn't as if I prefer shorter men, I just don't have much of a choice, but he is a good looking man.  At least to me, am I interested?  He has issues, something to prove, obviously something to do with not being intimidated by me, and I don't want to intimidate anyone.  He's not really interested in me, he's curious.  I'm a curiosity, and the way he stands up.  Over me sitting down, I even saw him rise off of his heels swaying forward, flexing his arm, and putting it up.

"Woah!"  My heart lept, almost falling over into the concrete behind me.  

"Don't push me!"

"This was a mistake."  I ran off, before I started crying.  Why did I even stop, I should have just accepted his apology, and kept walking, but I guess I just wanted to tell him it's normal.  I'm normal, and not some freak of nature.  That's what it's like, being treated like a freak, and the only men that pretend to be interested in me are really more interested in proving they're not intimidated by me.  Because I'm ugly.  I know that, the growth didn't just hit me in the arms, and legs, but in the face, and it's not like he wants to look at my face after I ran chest first into his chin, but once again the memories took hold of me, and I had to find somewhere I could cry, alone.

"Snh, huh!"  It must be great, there's one he never said.  Or asked me, isn't it great, never having to wear heels to reach something, well no it's not.  I love heels, and I think that my long legs are actually my best part, if anyone would ever look at them, but I can't. They make them in my size, for drag queens, and I have to be careful shopping because they don't, well most stores don't carry my sizes.  Wringing the hem of my dress in my lap.  "Huh!  Snh!"  I have some tissue left in my purse, so now I have to check my makeup.  

Something else to think about, instead of him.  I don't even want to think his name, but it's not like I can't get a date.  I don't think my standards are too high, but of course he turned out to be sick.  He kept calling me mommy, and he wanted to sit on my lap.  Not a good idea, a grown man, my legs won't support his weight, but he had this sick mommy fantasy going, and that was just the latest example in a string of men to tell me the obvious.  No man would ever want me, unless they're sick.  They're into freaks, and want to do sick stuff to me, or they have something to prove, and I tried.  God, i tried not to think about that night, but all the distractions, and trying to get my composure just put it off.

I just wiped my mascara and eyeliner off, but then the tears came out again.  So, I just threw them back in my purse, and dropped the mirror.  Great.  Not that I'm superstitious, or my luck could get any worse.  That's what it's like you puffed up little munchkin.  Living my life, wishing for a moment of normalcy.  Just walking down the street without a constant reminder that there's something wrong with me, and even the complete strangers that don't talk to me about nothing else, or "Huh!"

"Think you're so high and mighty."  I don't remember who said it first, but then they all started repeating it.  "Yeah, she thinks she's so high, and mighty."

I was drunk, it was a college party, everyone was drinking, and.  They grabbed me, and humiliated me.  Called me stork, and spider legs.  Tommy remembered that, he went to high school with me, so the name followed me even after, but this was the worst.  They all had something to prove, and just got crueler, and hurt me worse and worse to prove it.  "Huh, huhuhuh huh uh!"

That was the worse thing.  It wass nothing, just running into a stunted little runt that has to stand over me, and flex to cover up being intimidated by my height, but it always comes back to that night, that horrible offal night.  I keep trying to forget, but it keeps coming back, and now I've missed lunch.  "Huh!"  Get up, Theresa, "Get Up!"  I'll grab something from the machines at the office, but I'm not going to lose my job over this.  I have to get back to work, I don't have time for this.

« Last Edit: April 02, 2018, 11:00:11 AM by Psiberzerker »

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« Reply #1 on: March 27, 2018, 09:35:43 AM »
"See?  I told you."  He said I wouldn't believe it, but honestly, I'd seen her around.  Never got the courage to go and talk to her, but she's tall.  It's not just that, but she's got the most interesting bone structure in her face, and when we caught up with her, on the way into the alley as she was leaving, it was the first time I had seen her without her makeup.

She's even more beautiful without it.  I know, I'm weird, but I've never seen a woman with a face like that before.  Her cheekbones, without the blush to round them out.  They look like the prosthetics Angeline Jolie wore to play Maleficent.  They started fighting, though.  

"Guys," she backed up, but even from behind I could tell he was mad, by his body language.  His posture, stalking after her with his arms out akimbo, and his hands held tight into fist.  "Guys, please, you don't have to do this."  Backing her into a corner, she stopped, and shivered with her eyes closed.  "Please.  Please don't do this.  Not again!"  She started crying.

"Harv, Harvey.  Leave her alone, I don't think she's interested."

"Nobody asked you!  You were, you wanted me back there on the street, don't lie.  I can tell, feel that?"  He just put her hand on his arm.  "Go on, feel it.  Yeah, you like it, here.  Why don't you feel something harder?"

I just wanted to talk to her.  "Harvy!"

"Shut the fuck up!  I'm talking to her right now, and if you're not here to back me up, then fuck off."

"No, let her go.  I'm not going to leave you alone with her."


"I TOLD you!"

"Uhn!"  She fell down, holding her face.  

"Don't push me!"  He shook his finger at her.  "You don't want me to push back."

"All right, that's it, that's enough."

"Let me go!  Let go of me, faggot!"

"Calm down, just calm the fuck down a minute!"

"RAPE!"  She screamed, "AEIIIII!"

"Get outta here."  he ran, "Before somebody calls the cops."  I got down, on the ground with her.  Sobbing, and shaking.

"It's all right!"  She shrank back when I touched her, I didn't know what to do.  "It's over, he's gone.  We scared him off, now calm down.  I'm sorry, I had no idea he was going to.  Try to.  Do that to you."  I felt so guilty.  "Jeese, you think you know somebody!"

"Uh!"  She grabbed me?  "Uh uh uh uh uh uhn nuh!"  I just held her, so she could cry it out on my shoulder, and that surprised me.  She's not strong, I just didn't push her off, but for the longest time, we just cried together in the corner.  i cried too.  "Why does this keep happening to me?"

Finally, we could talk.  "Huh, I don't know, but.  Maybe we can talk about it?"

"Snh!?"  She looked up, and I found myself holding her face.  Her large unique beautiful face, but crying.  I never wanted to see her cry, or in pain, and wiping her tears from her cheek bones.  I never really thought I would get a chance to feel them, let alone it would happen like this, but she sniffed.  "Huh!  Thank you.  I don't know what would have happened, if you hadn't have been here, and.  Huh!  Another man might have, taken advantage of the situation."  She sat up, and crossed her arms.  Held them, crossed over her chest, hugging herself, and pulled her legs up.

"Uh," I just pulled the bottom of the dress down, to cover her legs, and her underwear.

"Huh, thanks."  She just put her head down on my chest, and i think she got the hiccups.  I don't know, I couldn't tell when her sobbing stopped, and that started, maybe she was still sobbing, and started hiccupping in between, but finally, she could breathe.  "Huh, help me up."

"Okay, uh!  How much do you weigh?"


"I'm sorry."

"No, oh no, it's all right.  It's more than okay, it's just.  Nobody asks me that first."  She blinked, got out her phone.  "A hundred eightyseven pounds."  Turned it on, and shook her head.

"Uh," I thought she was about to call the cops.  

"Shit!"  She threw it in her bag, "I am so late!  Hic!  Ngm, Hic!"

"I'm sure, your boss.  Will understand."

"No, I'm always late, and she already gave me a warning.  If I'm late one more time, I'm fired, Hic!  And, Hic!"

"I'll tell her.  You were just assaulted, and with me as a witness.  It's even better that your boss is a woman, so she'll probably even be more understanding.  Come on, where do you work?"

I had to do something, after what almost happened, and my part in it.  "Thank you, thank you so much, really.  I can't thank you enough."

"Come on.  Lets get you back to work."

« Last Edit: March 27, 2018, 09:46:15 AM by Psiberzerker »

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« Reply #2 on: March 27, 2018, 10:16:10 AM »
He was right, of course.  I had the bruise starting to swell up on the side of my face from when he decked me, but while he explained what happened, i got the foundation out, and borrowed a mirror from her to cover it up.  

All right, he said he heard us fighting, and came to stop it when I cried.  "Ngm!"  My hands shook, but I took a deep breath, and opened my eyes, to watch what I was doing.  Dabbing out some rouge to carefully paint on a cheek, then turn to make the other one.  Seem to match.  That's the problem, my face is lopsided, and i try to hold my mouth straight, but when I smile, or try to, force my self to smile, it twists up into a sneer, but pay attention, Tess.  "Huh!"  Take a deep breath, and just focus on getting your cheeks right.  "Who, huh!  Whew!"  

"Nah, forget about it.  The cops don't got nothing to write up, but assault."

He feels guilty, but he's not.  He didn't do anything, in fact, he stopped him, before anything.  Worse happened, and then he looked me in the eyes, and wiped away my tears, and "Huh?"

"Take the rest of the day off."

"Okay, thanks."  She didn't even say anything about hours, and docking my pay, just let me go, and as soon as we're out of the building.  In the fresh air, on the street.

"Fell better?"

"Yeah, uh.  Kinda hungry?"

"Well, let's go get lunch then.  I haven't eaten since breakfast either, so where do you want to eat?"

"There's a Schlotzsky's around the corner."

"Okeydokie, my treat."  I did feel better, as soon as i was out of the building, and with him.  I don't know, i felt normal again, and like he said Forget About It.  I did, for a moment, but it was just nice, to sit down across the table from him.  The same table, I usually took lunch, but not alone, and it even started to feel like a date?

"So," he took a bite from his half of the Large Deluxe, and set it back down.  "If you don't mind me asking, uh.  I don't know how, to ask this, without sounding rude, but.  Do you have some sort of condition?"

I nodded, swallowing, and washed it down with Mr. Pibb.  "I did, in high school.  Ironically enough, i was the shortest freshman, because my puberty was delayed."

"Well, i do a lot of medical research, I guess it's a hobby, but.  What?"

"Oh," one of those.  


"Huh!  I know, I'm odd, and different, but.  Huh!  You try not to be rude, and you're not, it's just that.  I don't like to feel like some sort of specemin."

"Oh, no.  It's not like that, I just thought that if there was some specific name for it, I could look it up, and learn more about you.  Since you seem to be so uncomfortable talking about it, but forget about it."

"Are you from Jersey?"

"No, well.  I lived there a few years, but.  Yeah, I know, fuhgetabout it?"

I laughed, we both laughed, but I got my appetite back, and took another bite.  "Mhm?"

"I guess I picked that up."  He took another bite from his half, and chewed, so I washed it down.

"They don't have a term for it, like a named condition, they just called it delayed puberty."  I nodded, "But then, after high school, it didn't stop until I was nineteen.  Almost twenty, and we seriously considered hormone blockers if it didn't stop on it's own, but then it did, so I didn't have to take them."

"And that scared you?"  He must've seen it in my face, because he looks at my face.

"Um,"  I played with my chips in the open bag.  "Well, they would have come with a lot of unwanted side effects, so.  I suppose that's what scared me, but that's it really.  I started late, but then I kept growing, much later than normal."

"Well, I'm glad, you did."


"Well, I don't know, but I think.  Is that what also gave you your incredible bone structure?"


"What?  Sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know, but you don't have to feel bad about it.  I like them, no actually I love your cheekbones, especially."

"Youw dow?"  Talking with my mouth full, I covered up my mouth, and grabbed my cup, but it just sucked dry, and loud through the ice.

"Here, let me top that off for you."  He took it back to the counter, to get someone to fill it up, but my makeup felt hot.  No, my face was warming up, it's not just because of the bruise.   He doesn't turn away, in fact he's having a lot of trouble looking away from my face, which I found unnerving at first, because I thought he was staring, but then he told me because he thought it was beautiful.  Jesus, what a way to meet a guy, and he's, a really nice guy, but.  Don't get your hopes up, Tess.  You've met plenty of nice guys before, and he's probably just feeling guilty for being accomplice to attempted rape.  At least he's not one of those guys.  That seem nice until they get you home, and then turn out to be creeps, but he really is.  Most guys wouldn't have covered my legs in the alley, but I just keep coming back to that moment when he held my face.  His eyes, searching back and forth, and his thumbs wiping away my tears.

I didn't notice at the time, I was still upset, and "Hic!"  There I go again, but now that he mentioned it, he was, feeling my cheekbones, and I remember the look of wonder in his eyes.  As if they couldn't be real.  They are, as much as I hate to say it, and they stick out like a sore thumb, but now my cheek is really starting to ache, and he's back with my drink.  "Hic!"

"Got the hicups again."

I just nodded, and washed down the lump in my throat, but still hungry.  I actually hope he's not going to finish the other half of the sandwich.  "Mind if I finish the chips?"

"No, go right ahead."

« Last Edit: April 02, 2018, 11:13:19 AM by Psiberzerker »

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« Reply #3 on: March 27, 2018, 11:15:38 AM »
"Is that German?"

"No, it's just a nickname, you wouldn't believe this, but it's actually John Smith."  Pulled my wallet out again, I didn't show her in the eatery, because it wasn't a bar, I just had to pull out some bills to pay.  "Ha, my folks weren't really creative when it came to that sort of thing.  My sisters' Jane, and Jill, too."

"Oh, weird."  She nodded.  "I'm sorry, I didn't know that was a bad word, for you?"

"I am, weird.  That's my problem, huh!  I guess that's like the opposite to you, in a way.  You see, back in high school, they called me Skitzo Fritz."  I shrugged, "I guess it stuck."

"Well, you introduced yourself as Fritz, so.  I didn't know."

"Oh, that's quite all right, forget about it.  I'm sorry, does that annoy you?"

"Oh, no.  I actually like it, it's just different.  They don't say it as much down here, is all."

"Well, somebody invaded my privacy.  She told everyone at school, I'm Schizo-affective, but in my adult life, the problem is I don't look different.  If anything, I look too normal, so I get in under their radar, and then when I open my mouth.  Sometimes they act like I betrayed them, or whatever.  I don't know, that's how it feels to me, but I'm weird.  I don't get normal people.  That's actually why I got into abnormal psychology in the first place, to try to figure out normal people by process of elimination."  I learned to talk to people, eventually.  It took years, because it's like learning a foreign language.  "Culture shock.  My life is like never getting used to living, anywhere, because I don't belong here, and the normal world doesn't make any sense to me."  For instance, I noticed that she doesn't like to talk about herself.  Not that I do, like say Harvey.  He's a good example of the old cliche' Enough about me, lets talk about you.  What do you think of me?

But it put her mind at ease, and I felt a little more comfortable.  Putting her arm over my shoulder, but it was also nice to have someone to talk to.  "It's like that crack."  I pointed, "In the sidewalk, it has cracks, but they're straight, and regular.  So, you get used to walking past them, and pay no attention to them, just step over them, because it's expected.  That crack back there, was random.  Just for example, but it's not regular.  It's random, and it has a little grass sticking out one side."

"Hmhm?"  She just left it there, her arm over my shoulder, and held me like that.  Comfortably, and it felt weird, for a change.  The woman putting her arm over his shoulder, because she's taller.  She could rest her chin on the top of my head if she wanted to, but she's self conscious of it.  "It's really interesting, what you said about studying abnormal psychology to better understand normal people."  She stopped.  "You want to come up, and talk?"

"Yeah.  You want me to do all the talking?  You're a good listener, but I'd kinda like to hear more about you."

She kissed me.  Just like that.  Leaned down, and kissed me, I turned my head the other way, hardly believing that's what was happening, but willing to let it happen.  "Mh, sorry."

"No, it's all right."

"You're probably not used to."

"You can kiss me, any time you want.  I wasn't expecting it, so you surprised me, but it was a pleasant surprise."

"I'm not usually so forward."  She threw her purse in the corner of the couch, and flopped down on the other end.

"Okay, I understand.  Well, most guys have a problem with you making the first move.  I'm not them.  Okay?  If you want to go out, make out, or just talk, I'm fine with that, but you mind if I sit down?"

"Oh," she patted the couch next to her.  "Not at all, come here."

"Huh!"  Take a moment, to collect my thoughts, and try to put this, as gently as possible.  "It's something you said."  I took her hands, and held them.  "Now, I'm going to have to ask you about, something painful, but we need to get this out of the way."

"Mhm?"  Still thinking...  "What did I say?"

"Not again."  Shake my head, "I think there was another one in there, I don't remember the exact words, but you've been sexually assaulted before.  I know you don't want to talk about it, but It is a potential minefield, and I can't avoid stepping on any buried mines if I don't know they're there."

"Huh!  You're right.  So, I suppose we better get this out of the way..."

« Last Edit: March 29, 2018, 07:40:08 AM by Psiberzerker »

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« Reply #4 on: March 27, 2018, 11:56:01 AM »

It's private.  You want to read victim's accounts of sexual assaults?  You're on a site devoted to rape stories, I trust that you can find one.  I added rape to her background, to help it fit in, but this is a story about being different, in some way.  Now, it's time to get to the part that places it in this sexion.


"Huh!"  For at least the third time today, he let me cry it out on his shoulder.  "Snh!"  Handed me a tissue, and let me blow my nose.  Even held the trashcan.  "Huh!  Thanks."

"For'," He shook his head, "Don't mention it."

"Thank you for being so understanding, and it does feel better to talk about it."

"Good."  He took my hands again, so I leaned in to kiss him, again.

"Huh, wait."


"Well, there is something else, but.  You got some cold cream, or something?"

"Yeah," he got up, "In the bathroom."  Right on the counter, sure enough it made my eyes run, so i pulled some more tissues to wipe them off.  He brought it back, with a wash cloth, and a glass of water.  From besides the sink, but he dabbed noxzema dry on the corner.  "Just hold still."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"Of course."  He took a deep breath, "I'm transgender."

I blinked, and pulled back.  Shook my head, "You mean, you want to get a sex change?"

"No."  He just held the wash cloth, wrapped around two fingers, and pinched it with his other two, pulled tight bye his thumb.  "I already have."

"Oh!"  That explains a lot, and I felt his jaw.  "Really?"  The thin dotted line of stubble, all the way back to the corner, before it turned up toward his earlobe, but.  "It's hard to believe.  You look so manly?"

"I am, that's why I could understand your late puberty.  I went through something like that, only instead, it was more like a second puberty.  The right one, this time."

"Oh."  His chest, it's so flat.  I mean, it's not just a complete lack of breasts, but it's even firm, and muscular.  "They really did, a very good job."  Like I said, hard to believe.  "Does that mean, you."  It just occurred to me, to look down at his lap, but.  I didn't finish.  I didn't see anything there, but does that mean there's nothing to see, or I just can't see it yet.  "Uh, ha!"


"I'm just used to being the weird one in the room."

"Well, huh!  That's just it.  I don't want to be weird, I don't even like being weird, I just."

"You don't understand normal people.  Me neither, I guess it's because of them never treating me as normal, but.  You want to finish my makeup?  I mean taking it off for me."


"How bad is it?"  He went right for the tender spot, but gently.  Almost as if he's done something like this before.  Sat down with a girl, a washcloth, a jar of Noxcema, and a glass of water to take off her makeup.  it was such a normal thing, I completely missed him doing it.  

"Not, too bad?  You're probably going to get a black eye.  Does this hurt?"

"A little, but not too hard."

"I just have to get the foundation off."  He flipped the washcloth, and licked a clean corner.

"So, you grew up a girl?"

"Mhm?  Dolls, and clothes and suchlike.  I think that was the first thing, or at least the first I remember well."


"Girl clothes, they suck?"

"Well, I don't mind, but go on?"

"They're so impractical, take dresses, for instance?"  The way he covered me up, on the floor of the alley.  "They're supposed to cover your legs, but if you didn't know any better, you'd think they're designed to expose you, if you don't pay attention.  So, you're constantly making sure you sit demurely, and have to cross your legs, when guys don't have to worry about that.  They can just sit down, and put a leg up, without having to worry about anything hanging out.

"Um, you don't mind me asking, but.  Do you?  Have a penis?"

"Huh!  No.  I don't, normally care for that question, because it basically reduces guys to 1 thing that's important, so it'd be like asking your bra size, or if he's circumcised."

"So, you don't."

"No, I don't.  Sorry, if you're expecting."

"No, oh no.  That's fine, I didn't have any expectations, I was just wondering.  I found they just lead to disappointment, anyway."

"Expectations?  I stopped trying to predict what was going to happen.  Huh!  That's a side effect, of my mental illness by the way.  Magical thinking?"

"Oh, the schizo-,"  It wasn't phrenia.

"Schizo-affective disorder."  He nodded.  "It's not uncommon for gender disphoria to be comorbid with another, and hiding."

I kissed him again.  "Hm, what was that for?"

"For being so smart.  And everything.  Again, I don't know how to thank you enough," but he wants to go slow.  I get that, but that's quite all right.  "So, that's why you picked the name, John Smith?"

"Yeah, sorry about the little lie, but.  I couldn't think of anything better.  France."

"Uh, what?"  He speaks strangely, at first I thought it was just his accent, but he never blurted out a word at random like that.

He made a face, took a breath, "Huh, they named me France.  Not Frances, or Francine, just France."

"Oh, that's."  I just wrinkled my nose, and shook my head.

"Tell me about it.  So yeah, that's where Schizo Fits came from.  When my," take a breath, "Brother's girlfriend's sister told everyone I was schitzo."

"Oh, that's fucked up!"

"Yeah!  Right?"

"So yeah.  I guess you're right, when it came time to pick a boy's name, I went by Cory for a little while, thought about Frank, but I didn't like the sound of that neither, so I thought I'd pick something more."  he held up air quotes, "Normal."  Shrugged, "I never really got used to it."

"So, you picked Fritz, because they used to call you fits, only with an R."

"Yeah, exactly.  I just didn't think it up right away, so by then it was too late to change it again.  It's just a nickname, anyway."

"Well, I like it.  I like you, but, it suits you."


"Can I kiss you again?"

He didn't answer, he just kissed me.  For the first time.



Honestly, if I had a fantasy, or I had to pick just one?  It would be to have a normal love-life.
« Last Edit: April 02, 2018, 01:28:52 PM by Psiberzerker »

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Fritz (Denouement)
« Reply #5 on: March 27, 2018, 01:31:39 PM »
Well, she slowed down.  Didn't slam on the breaks, but at least she hesitated, asked, and let me kiss her, but this is a more comfortable pace, for me.  I like her, she's beautiful, and honestly the first thing I noticed wasn't her height.  

It was her posture.  She slouches, partially because she has to duck through doorways barefoot, but honestly she dragged herself around with such a depressive air, I most wondered what it was that made her feel that way.  All the time, she doesn't dress like some teenage Goth, she wore a modest dress today, but once you see her in a crowd, she stands out.  And she's painfully self conscious about it, because apparently everyone seems to feel the need to constantly remind her that she's tall.  She knows, believe me, she got the memo.  If anyone is aware of it, that would be her.

"Huh!'  Now she's smiling, and I can feel her face.  Again, this time dry, unmade-up, no tears, just a wry smile, and a contended breath.  Happiness, I made her happy, and that's all I wanted.  To start, this was a start, but a moment I wanted to remember, especially.  "Still a little tender?"  I looked back and forth, but the asymmetry, is honestly beautiful.  To me, I know that now they're even using symmetry as a quantifiable metric of beauty.  Normal beauty, typical beauty, but that's for normal people.  They don't like unique, they don't even want to be unique individuals, even though we all are.  

Not all people, but more than enough.  They use the term Snowflake as an insult.  How dare you feel special?  "We better put some ice on it, you have any asprin, or other Nsaids in the house?"  

"Ibuprophen, or Advil, in the medicine cabinet."  I didn't look.  I looked for the advil bottle, but sure enough, it was behind a tall prescription bottle for Sinequan (Doxepin HCL)  An anti-depressant.  "Huh!"  I rinsed out the washcloth, with hot water to soften up the grease base, and hung it up.  "Here," she picked up the unused glass of water to wash it down, while I went in the kitchen.  "Where do you keep the ziplocs?"

"In the cabinet on the left.  Of the sink, over by the refridgerator?"

"Got it," cracked out ice trays.

"Thanks so much for taking care of me.  Along with everything."

"Forget about it, just relax."  She leanded back, and held it to her cheek.  

"So, where do you know.  Harv is it?"  She closed her eyes.  "Harvey from?"

"I'm going to have to call him, and.  Go get my stuff.  We live together.  Well, I don't think I can live with him now, or face him, after this.  If you want to press charges, I'll testify as a witness."

"No, I don't.  I want to forget about it, but.  He's dangerous."

"I know, I.  Don't know, I thought I knew him, better than that, but.  Huh!  I guess not.  Huh!  You know, he liked me, because I'm shorter then him."

"Yeah?  I didn't notice, but it makes sense."

"If you don't mind me," changing the subject, "Asking, why do you work in a day-care?"  Again.  It helps to dance around our issues.  No hurry, we got the truly important, and potentially painful stuff out of the way, so we can talk about it.  She could talk about Harv, until it got too painful, but we can come back to it.  

"You know, children don't care?"  She shrugged, "I suppose because everyone, or at least any adult looks tall to them, so they don't even seem to notice.  Ironically, they treat me better than most adults.  I mean, sometimes one of them says something like 'You're funny looking,' but it's not as hurtful coming from a child, because they don't mean anything by it.  They just don't know what to say."

"I guess we have higher standards for grownups.  So, it almost feels like a betrayal, when they act ignorant, and.  You're right, actually it isn't childish or immature.  Children don't act that way, so it's actually pretty wrong to call it immature when adults do."  At least I never heard of a little boy attacking a little girl, and forcing her to feel him up, because she was taller than him.

 :emot_weird.gif:  "Weird, yeah.  Adults are so weird."  she thought, "So, you work out with him?"

"Yeah, they're his weights, but I have to.  He doesn't know about my, childhood.  He's a personal trainer, and a bodybuilder, but I just have to maintain the muscle mass, I already have."

"Huh!'  She pulled the ice bag off, and held it in her hands.  "Do i have to keep this on?"

"No, actually I think it helps to apply it for a little while, and check to see the swelling."  I looked, back, and forth.  "I'm not a nurse, medical student, but, going for my PsyD.  This is basically first aid, but I don't think you're going to need to see a doctor.  Does it feel any different?"

"Yeah, a little numb, but."  She rubbed my shirt.  "You wanna take your shirt off?"

"Huh!  Sure."  I sat back, and pulled it over my head.  brushed the top of my hair real quick to feel how it messed it up.

"Huh!"  She felt my scars.  Gently, just barely brushing her fingertips out.  "Did you get these from, surgery?"

"Mastectomies," same distateful expression, "I couldn't stand them really, but.  You don't mind?"

"Oh, no.  You can touch me."  She made a face, and put the ice pack up to cover it.  "Ow, it started hurting again."

"That's right, just hold it up until it goes numb, and then take it off until it starts to hurt again until the anti-inflammatory kicks in."  I nodded, and slipped the straps off her shoulders.  "Here." Held the bag up, so she could slip her arm out, and sit up, topless except for her bra.

"I forget what it's called, but."  I felt her sternum, over her heart.

"Oh, this?"  She felt it too, "Uh," had to think.  Literally looking up to remember, "Pectus ecavitum, I think.  My caved in chest?"

"Yeah, I think that's it."  With her bra on, and the dress hanging over it, especially the way she slouches, and walks hunched over, you could mistake it for cleavage, but it goes deeper than, well her sternum normally would be.  "Here," I felt around her side, and she picked up her arms.  The ice sloshed in the bag in her hand, but I felt the clasp in the back, and unhooked it.  

"Huh!"  She looked up, and closed her eyes, tilting her head in the universal gesture for kiss me, so I did.  Feeling up and down her back, she held the bag in her lap, but turned the way she was.  No, it wasn't just her shoulder blades, her ribs were out of line, and tracing them in, they didn't meet in the middle.  "Huh!"  She sat back, and shifted uncomfortably, but also held up the ice to cover it.  "Hm."

"I know, you're self conscious about your body, too."

"My deformities?"

"Oh, I don't like, calling them that."

"That's what they are, you want to look them up?  I've got some paperwork from my doctors, listing all of my deformities, so you can read all about them."

"Yes, but those would just be the dry, clinical words they have for the general complex of conditions, as they understand them, but they wouldn't be you.  Your body, your cheeks, and jaw.  Your sternum, and spine.  Scholiosis for instance,  All that would tell me is that your spine is out of symmetry, but it wouldn't show me the beautiful curve it forms.  Out of context, it wouldn't even hint at how it affects your ribs, your scapulae, turn around."

"God, how do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Say something, as horrible as Scholiosis, and talk about it, and yet make it sound sexy?"

"Because it is.  It's you, it's what makes you you, instead of someone else, or one of those boring girls that have anything different polished off, and painted over."

"Like the cracks in the sidewalk."

"No, like the one, and only crack, in the sidewalk to remind me of the first time you put your arm around me."


I felt down her spine, with my thumbs, and brushed my fingertips around her scapulae to feel her ribs expand as she took another breath, and sighed.



Okay, amend that to a More normal love-life.
« Last Edit: March 29, 2018, 07:53:04 AM by Psiberzerker »

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« Reply #6 on: March 27, 2018, 02:50:55 PM »
"Huh!"  Okay, I've been examined before, studied because it helps them understand my complex of conditions better, and of course felt up before.  But this, didn't feel anything like that.  Not even a combination or somewhere between a doctor clinically feeling the alignment, and some creep feeling up the freak, because.  i don't even know why because, they always lie about it, but I can always tell when he's a creeper being creepy, because it gives me the creeps.

I guess the other part, his part.  That is more like the best part of a man, and the little glimpses of the girl, coming out, at surprising moments.  Like when I looked over, and saw how he held the washcloth to wipe off my makeup.  Even before he unhooked my bra, just exactly like unhooking a bra.  Because it's in the way, he just got it out of the way.  I've been with other women, and more often than not, they were the You're not like the other girls straight girls.  Which is just as bed as being felt up by a creep feeling up the freak.

"Huh!"  It's triggering, but in a good way?  How being triggered can ever be a good thing, but all I have to compare it to is all the bad sexual experiences with people who're attracted to me for all the wrong reasons.  I even told him, I'm not a specimen, because I completely misunderstood what he was asking, when if anyone would understand, it's someone who had his boobs cut off, because they didn't belong there.  I don't feel like a specimen any more, to study, I feel like a sculpture, a work of art, or "Like a tree?"

"Pardon me?"  

"I was just thinking, you ever look at a tree, and then you just have to touch it, or even climb up it.  To really see where all the branches go, and feel the bark.  Or the way the grain moves through the wood, or even the way a river winds between hills?  I don't know, that's just what I was thinking about, when you're feeling my back, and talking about it."

"Yeah, I think, if I'm understanding the way you mean it.  It's natural, when you look at a tree.  It's not any less beautiful because it isn't perfectly symmetrical, and we appreaciate the beauty in spite of it's random shape."

"Huh!"  I just had to hug him.  "Yeah, I never felt like that before.  I guess, I never had anyone feel me, my back like that before.  It was weird, but beautiful at the same time."

"Well, that's what's beautiful to me.  Like that crack was beautiful earlier, not just because you had your arm around me, but that's what caught my eye.  About you as well, it's not the same, boring normalcy people seem to think they want, but the differences that stand out.  That's why people like beauty marks, and get tattoos, when they have to.  You don't, you're unique, and beautifully asymmetrical without them."

"Well, tell everyone else that."

"They know.  I'm not the only one who sees it.  I may be the first one who's thought about it consciously enough to tell you, but you are, beautiful.  If anyone ever told you different, it was a lie to cover up something they don't want to admit, like jealousy, or being intimidated because he's self conscious about his height."

I had to laugh, but it felt good to laugh.  Especially about that, and it actually really helps to know and empathize with the asshole somehow.  This time, every assault, rape, and insult is different, but this time.  I was just confused.  No, I also was terrified, disgusted, humiliated, and hurt, because he tried to punch my lights out, but I couldn't understand why the hell he was doing this to me, and already being so helpless, backed into a corner, turning it around and actually seeing it from his point of view, really helped with that.

Just like Fritz is so normal, he said almost too normal on the outside, so it weirds people out when he turns out to be.  So gentle, caring, understanding, intelligent, and secure on the inside, it must be something wrong with him instead of them.  While on the flip side, I look so different on the outside that nobody even wants to talk to me long enough to get to know me, as a person, even people I've worked with for years, like my boss.  Just like on another, completely different flip side, Harvey has to stand up, and flex, because he's a man, and a man can't be short.

Except for Fritz, because he understands what it is to be a man.  A real man, is just being himself.  He had the ultimate threat to his masculinity, he went through puberty.  The same puberty I did, if not exactly the same way.  He didn't come out exactly like me, but I can sympathize completely with being treated like a girl.  A little girl, and then everyone treating me differently.  Even my own family, and friends.  My boyfriend when I got taller than him, and we stayed up, all night talking.  Just like I said when I invited him in, topless, and then when I didn't need the ice any more, completely naked.

Just exploring each other's bodies, while we talked, and got to each other's minds.  Personalities, and remembered the most important experiences that made us who we were.  Also, I saw that he has a vagina.  A hairy one, and yes even an overgrown clitorus from the hormones, but honestly I was more interested in his thick firm hairy muscular thighs, and rippling abdominal muscles.  Not a perfect six pack, the lines don't even line up, because he doesn't carefully do crunches in front of a mirror to make them "perfect"ly symmetrical.  I finally got that part too.  Reducing a man down to 1 thing, the one thing that defines him.  Ironically, how big is your dick seems to turn guys, straight guys into assholes like Harv.

That's what makes Fritz a better man, a real man.  He doesn't have the balls to get obsessed with them.  He doesn't feel any need to prove it.  He's man enough for me, because he knows when to stop, so he's not more than man enough for me.  Like his name.  He was born in France, Paris France on vacation.  Bad timing, forget about it.  I joked that at least he wasn't named after a hotel, but ironically, it's a man's name.  Paris, after a warrior from the Illiad of all things.  He even tried being called Paris, but now everyone thinks that's a girl's name, so he had to give it up.  He got sick of telling people, well actually it's a warrior from the fucking Illiad, because the most famous Paris is now someone who's named after a hotel, and famous for being famous.

Instead of tall, and he was right about my looks.  Honestly, I put my arm over my shoulder because standing up straight makes my back hurt.  This is how things happen.  Why people lie about them, because a woman can't just put her arm over a man's shoulder, even on the first date, just because she slouches too much.  What if someone saw us?  Honestly, with what all had happened, the tension, and the adrenaline wearing off, the untreated bruise forming on my cheekbone, and the makeup I had to put on to cover it, it hurt worse not to put my arm around him, and I was too exhausted to care.

Now, whenever I walk past that crack in the sidewalk, I have to stop, and look at it.  As many times as I've walked past it, back and forth without appreciating it's beauty, because honestly it annoyed me.  The dirty tuft of grass that always grows back, every time they cut it off, and even remember when a dandelion grew out of it.  A wildflower, or a weed, which is how most people would look at it, when it's the same flower.  Whether you appreciate it's beauty or not, but now I can see it for myself.  Because I can hold my head up high, instead of hanging it, so I can't see people looking at me.

Seeing how beautiful I truly am, a moment before their defense mechanism kicks in, and they pick me apart to find some tiny flaw to tell me what's wrong with me.  I got used to it, they've done it all my life, so of course i started to believe for years that I was nothing but a collection of flaws.  Deformities, I was actually delighted when I started growing boobs, because I wasn't flat chested.  I needed them to cover it up, so a collection of deformities couldn't possibly come together to make someone beautiful.  That's not allowed.  That's why it took a real man, to tell me I'm beautiful, and I actually believed it.

I just had to find one, or he found me.  Funny, how we met, but honestly, that wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.  Not even in the running, I'd have to say that being gang raped at a college party we even a close second.  I obsessed over it, so I could ignore the common, petty, dare I even say Normal insults.  That's what destroyed me, broke me, dehumanized me so that I wasn't even a person.  That's why no one would love me, and nobody would even pretend to try unless it was something sick, and creepy.  Like an unhealthy Oedipal Complex, so he wanted a woman tall enough to make him feel like a little boy.  A sick little boy, you know what?  Scratch that, he was far worse that those drunk frat boys, put together.  He made my skin crawl.

It's almost always the ones you least expect, because they try so hard to hide it.  At least Harvy's enough of an asshole to wear it like a badge.  That little creep hid it so bad, he had me lying to play his sick incestuous mommy, and made me spank him just to have someone to be with, until I just couldn't stand it any more.  I shouldn't have done it once, but I was too afraid of dying alone, because I felt like a freak, and couldn't believe that anyone else but a sick creep would want to be with me.  That's why we talked all night, and didn't have sex.  Well, one it took all night just to go over all the stuff we have to get out of the way, our issues, and why we have them before we could even think about.

No, he made love to me.  That night, we didn't have sex, but he made me love myself, so he could even begin to understand me well enough to know who he was falling in love with.  Honestly, sex is nothing compared to that.  Now, you want to know how we have sex?  Beautifully.  Are you circumcised?  What size bra do you wear?  Nothing could be less important.

« Last Edit: March 27, 2018, 03:57:00 PM by Psiberzerker »