Alex Begins His Exile Story
Edited by Jesse and Scott
Prior warning apply
As they were leaving the session, Josh's phone rang and Walt said, "Josh, we're half an hour out of Boulder. Had great flying weather and a great flight. Gotta get Cândido FAA certified as he's a good pilot, but let his certification expire."
"Alex and I will meet you at the airport," Josh responded. He handed the phone to Alex and asked him to call Gertrude and tell her they were going to Mavis' place to switch for her SUV as they would have six passengers and their luggage. He was astonished when he had to explain to him how to use the phone and Alex told him his mother would never allow him near a phone, cell or otherwise, because he might call one of his queer friends, as though he had any friends, queer or otherwise.
They exchanged vehicles and were at the airport when the Blankenship plane landed. Alex was introduced all around and Walt introduced Cam Phillips, his grandson to Alex and Josh. They went to a hotel downtown to pick up the cars Josh had rented, and transferred the luggage to them. Josh gave Walt directions to the resort and told him to call if he needed anything and that he would see them early Tuesday morning. He told Luc they would get together for late lunch Monday. "I don't want to break in on the honeymoon," he told them.
When Josh and Alex took the SUV back, Prince and Princess were in the corral and started whinnying before they could see them. "Up for ride, Barefoot Boy?" Josh asked.
"Of course," he grinned.
"I wasn't sure after a rectal exam."
"No problem, although I still have a bit of a dead ass. Helen said she filled me full of a local which should last for a few hours."
They rode fifteen minutes before Josh insisted they turn back. When they got back, Alex was near exhausted, but insisted on helping Josh rub down Princess. They walked toward the house and Alex leaned into Josh and said, "No sex, stud. Horseback riding after a rectal exam probably wasn't a good idea." They smiled at each other.
Friday began their mornings and afternoons at the gym. They would do that five days a week. Before they went in the afternoon, they had their session with the team.
When they walked into the room holding hands, Helen was waiting for them. "Alex, even in your present state, you two are a handsome couple. How are you today?"
"Helen, I have a sore ass. Please remind anyone you give a rectal exam to stay off horses for a while."
"I did. Josh thought it was a bad idea and said so, but I said I was fine. I was until the ass-numb you used wore off about the time we got back from the ride." Helen was trying hard to hide a smile, but finally failed. "You want I should find you a rubber doughnut for the session?"
"I guess not, but I may have to end up on the floor," Alex reflected her smile.
"Be my guest," she said as Shawn and Henry walked into the room.
"How did the swimming go?" Shawn asked.
"Fine. I took it very slow, but kept moving for a good part of the hour, but spent the last fifteen minutes in the hot tub soaking my sore ass."
"You and Josh...."
"Went horseback riding," Helen grinned.
"You reached the point yesterday where your family moved to Salt Lake," Helen said.
Salt Lake and Exodus
"The tension in our house grew and Dad and Mom almost came to blows over me frequently. Dad had always hung pretty loose with his religion, not so loose as to get in trouble, but skated along the edges. Mom, on the other hand, had always been very strict in observing the church's teaching and requirements. That was fine until they crossed swords over what I could and could not do. Dad really dug his heels in when Mom insisted I attend church summer camp after I applied for the program in Boulder when I was thirteen.
"When I got back from Boulder, if she wasn't on my back, she was on his. She had decided I was being led astray by Josh and the fact that his grandmother was convinced we were causing each other to have unclean and unworthy thoughts bolstered her position. Josh and I decided we'd not be seen together on the bus or at school and got separate classes where we could, but she kept up.
"There was a major fight when I was accepted at Boulder for the second year. I don't know what she would have done had she actually known my and Josh's relationship—well, I do. I would have been shipped off to another version of New Beginnings.
"Josh and I worked out a scheme so we would know when he was riding—I was free to ride so long as I did my chores and homework. Dad insisted on that. Mavis helped when she talked to Josh's grandparents about his riding in Boulder's Fourth of July Parade and asked if they didn't think riding and caring for horses was a good way to keep boys from having impure thoughts. Josh's granddad was a real horse person, so it didn't take anything to convince him. He was also proud of Prince and happy to have Josh show him off.
"The next year Dad got the promotion which sent him to Salt Lake. Dad was pleased with the promotion and liked the idea of getting out of Wellsburg where he had grown up. Mom was in seventh heaven. She was going to the center of her religion, her universe, the Holy City itself. Dad promised Josh and me we could phone and visit each other, but mom and Josh's grandmother told us in no uncertain terms that would not happen. We only managed rare phone calls on days we had agreed upon from public phones. Often one or the other couldn't make it to a phone, so while we planned on weekly calls, we rarely managed one every two or three weeks.
"Turns out, dad's promotion to Salt Lake was a test to determine whether or not he would receive a much higher promotion, which he did. He would have to move to New York and he was happy about that. Mom was not, in fact, she refused to leave Salt Lake. They argued about that but, in the end, he went to New York and she stayed in Salt Lake. Dad promised he would send for me as soon as he was settled. After a few months I guess he realized there was no way he could live with Mom and told her he was filing for divorce. He agreed to deed her the Wellsburg property, if she lived on it, otherwise, it would revert to him, that I could live with her, but I would attend the summer program in Boulder and spend the rest of the summer with him in New York. She was very agreeable and I smelled a rat and Dad should have, but I guess he was so glad to be rid of her he didn't notice. They both agreed to waive the ninety-day waiting period and Dad agreed on child support. I don't know all the ramifications, but lawyers got the divorce as quickly as possible and the day the decree was signed, my life in hell began.
"Mom moved us into a run-down apartment building in a very bad section of Salt Lake and took me out of public school to home school me. She had been rigid in her religion before, now she became a fanatic, a crazy fanatic. After we had been in that rat-infested dump for a month, she rented a small house in a nice enough neighborhood—so far as I could ever tell—and we moved in. She paid to have decorative bars put on the windows but, decorative or not, they were bars. My room locked from the outside and I was locked in at night. I had a hard bed, a desk and straight chair and nothing else in the room. In the morning she inspected my sheets and if there was a cum stain on them, I had to read from the Book of Mormon for two hours and go without breakfast and lunch. I was only allowed to wear a temple garment -- to which I had no right and I never understood that since she was so rigid about church rules. After a week of doing home schooling, she found an online Mormon high school and enrolled me. That posed a dilemma since I had to have computer access. She handled that by watching while I downloaded lessons, then locked the modem away.
"She was not dumb, just religion-fogged, because she actually had a good job which required her to work with computers. I typed my school work while she was at work, saved it, and she checked it to make sure I hadn't pulled something, took out the modem and watched as I uploaded my work and downloaded the work for the next day. Piss-poor way to spend your high school days, but the basic education was good. You just had to take into account the Mormon slant, especially in American history and science.
"I was only allowed out of the house after she got home from work, when I was allowed in the fenced-in backyard, and to go to church and youth activities. She met with the bishop and told him a friend had tried to turn me homosexual and her husband had allowed it. 'I am having to take strict measures to make sure he does not choose that lifestyle,' she told him . 'I hope you will ask all of his youth leaders and advisers to make sure he doesn't slip and, please, don't allow him unsupervised time.' During the winter, I never saw the sun except through a window and on sunny Sundays when we were on our way to the meeting house twenty minutes each way.
"I lived for the summer and the program at Boulder. I was sure she was going to let me go when she allowed me to apply on line, well, I was allowed to download the application and complete it. She put the disk in the computer and told me it had been sent, but it had not. I waited in vain for a letter from the program, a letter that never came.
"She had been coming home late on Tuesdays and Thursdays for some time and I was allowed to stop attending youth activities. I was to learn later, she was attending meetings of a splinter group which eventually went to New Beginnings. She stayed in Salt Lake for a few years longer.
"Sometime in the late spring, a few weeks before I was to have left for Boulder, someone sent her a photo of me kissing Josh. She came into my room enraged. She was carrying a broom handle and started beating me with it. I finally passed out and came to tied, spreadeagle, on my bed. A couple hours later, two men arrived, told me they were there to take me to a clinic for treatment. That was my first experience with aversion therapy. The major difference between it and New Beginnings was that the people at Exodus really believed homosexuality was a choice and that anyone could make a new choice. They also went about aversion therapy as humanely as possible but, of course, there is nothing humane about it.
"For eight weeks I was subjected to increasingly more severe 'therapies.' The first week was endless lectures on the evils of homosexuality, the dire consequences for those who chose that path and four to six hours of church a day, seven days a week. To that point, it was just assumed we were homosexual. The second week started Monday morning when I was taken into a room, a sensor strapped to my penis and I was shown a heterosexual porn movie. Dead dick. I was taken back to my room and given a straight porn magazine to read. I knew I was being observed and tried to get it up, but I had to keep turning pages. I'd think of Josh and start to get a rise, then turn a page and down it would go. No doubt in their mind and certainly not in mine, I was hopelessly gay, yeah gay and without hope.
"That night, an attendant took me to my bed, strapped a sensor to my penis and left, leaving my room light on. After a half hour or so, I was finally dozing off when the light went off and a photos of nude men and a strobe started. The effect was a picture of nude man followed by a strobe so bright it hurt your eyes. I could close my eyes to shut out the photos, but not the strobe. After probably fifteen minutes, the room light came on and the photos and strobe stopped. For the rest of the night, that was the pattern: room light off, photos and strobe on, room light on. I say it was the pattern, but there was no pattern to it. The next morning, I was given bread and water for breakfast and a repeat of the first day -- lectures and church except anytime I nodded, I got a shock from a cattle prod. Not extremely painful as they used the lowest setting, but not pleasant either. I remember thinking, 'I don't need aversion to lectures and church. Those I can do without forever.'
"The next night was different in that I was restrained -- spreadeagle on my bed -- my room light seemed a great deal brighter than before and I had a hood placed over my head. I soon found its function. The room lights went out and the photos started, but no strobe. There were some really hot photos and I started getting hard. I was about half-hard when the photos stopped, the strobe started and a sound, like a siren, started in the earphones in the hood. As soon as I was soft, the strobe and sound stopped and the room lights came on, but I was not allowed to go to sleep -- think cattle prod. That was the pattern for the next three nights. The days were spent standing, arms pinned over my head or in lectures and church, all with the cattle prod. I might have had an hour's sleep in four days. The night of the fourth day, I started hallucinating—bright flashes of light, spiders crawling on walls, monsters. I started throwing up and was left in the room with it.
"The next morning, I was allowed to shower and get dressed. I had an actual breakfast with other 'patients' before spending two hours with a 'counselor.' He asked me when I first had homosexual feelings and who was responsible for me introducing me to the homosexual lifestyle. He was a very kindly, fatherly man who inspired confidence. I guess my resistance to any questioning was a product of the days without sleep and his grandfatherly appearance and demeanor . Anyway, I told him no-one had introduced me to homosexuality. I guess I was in my late twelfth or or early thirteen year when I realized that when a group of boys were talking about girls, they got tents in their pants. I didn't. I also started noticing that I liked to look a boys, especially after gym when we were showering. I knew instinctively that was a no-no, but still sneaked looks when I thought no-one would notice. I had a couple of wet dreams and asked dad about it and he told me boys did that and it was normal. 'You were probably dreaming about doing something with a girl.' I didn't tell him, but the wet dreams I had and remembered were about jerking off or jerking off with a boy. So I was having homosexual feelings when I was twelve or thirteen although I did not know what to call them.
"I didn't tell the 'counselor,' but I had found out soon enough. I guess Mom had missed the stained sheets before, but one afternoon when I got home from school, shortly after I had talked to Dad, she pounced. 'Have you been having unclean and unworthy and unwholesome thoughts?'
"I had, but I wasn't insane. 'No, Mom,' I answered, wondering what was going on.
"'Then how do you explain this?' She pulled a sheet from the laundry basket she had been carrying and shoved the cum stain in my face.
"'I had a wet dream,' I said, innocent fool that I was. 'Dad said it happened to all boys.'
"'NOT unless they are having unclean and unworthy thoughts. You must stop thinking evil and dirty thoughts and stop playing with yourself.'
"'Playing with myself? What do you mean?'
"'YOU KNOW what I'm talking about. Masturbation. Masturbation leads to homosexuality which is a sin second only to murder. You will confess to the bishop and he will help you overcome that sinful practice condemned by church and God.'
"That was the first time I was sent to the bishop.
"'Tell me Alexander,' the 'counselor' asked, 'who led you to masturbate, who told you about it? Who showed you how?'
"'No-one. I just discovered it.'
"'Surely not. Some moral degenerate started you down the path to homosexuality by teaching you how to masturbate.' Seemed to me it was not something that required any extensive education.
"Well, if you thought I was going to say anything further about that to this man, you have to think I was nuts. Anyway, when Mom demanded I confess to the bishop, Dad told her he would see that I talked to the bishop and he did. As we were on the way, he said, 'Alex, a non-Mormon once laughed about masturbation and said there were two kinds of Mormons in the world just as there were two kinds of men, those who masturbate and those who lie about it, but go be a good boy and confess to the bishop. He'll give you a guide on how to stop it. Put it on the bedside table with your Book of Mormon and hope your mother finds some other sin to berate us about.' I knew what the 'counselor' wanted to hear and I made sure he heard it.
"Of course that didn't end my ordeal. I could tell the 'counselor' what he wanted to hear. I could fool him. What I could not do was control my cock which had a mind of its own. I was sixteen when I was sent to that place. A butterfly flapping its wings in Japan could give me a hard-on.
"When I left the counselor's office, I was sent to spend time with a bishop. He had me read one thing after another about the evils and dire consequences of sexual impurity. Then he asked, 'Do you know you not only endanger your soul with your unclean and unworthy thoughts, you are rendering yourself unfit to make your missionary journey?'
"'Thank God for small favors,' I thought.
"In the days that followed, I was subjected to immersion in ice water—needless to say, I didn't get an erection while in the water, but once I thawed out—being kept awake, sounds, strobes and still my cock betrayed me when I saw the photos and movies. By the end of week five, I was a wreck, but if the previous five weeks were bad, week six made them seem like a piece of cake. All the previous methods continued except the ice water, and electro-shock started. Once a session started, it only stopped when I passed out. Each day I thought it couldn't get worse, but it did. I knew I had to do something or I'd never survive. I was there for eight weeks, but that was a minimum and could be extended indefinitely or until Mom stopped paying. I don't know how I did it, but I managed to convince myself that any cock I saw was dripping pus and crawling with maggots. I did such a good job that no photo could arouse me. I thought I was home free, then they showed me a very tender love scene between two truly beautiful guys. Midway into their foreplay, my cock betrayed me and I received a shock to my cock and balls which was so long and intense I collapsed. Once again I worked at imaging something terrible going on instead of what was actually projected. What finally worked was imaging it was our Wellsburg bishop fucking Mom in the ass with shit coming out.
"If I could manage not to get an erection week seven and eight I would be free of the place. Saturday at the end of week seven, I was not restrained and was able to slip the sensor from my dick to a finger without setting off an alarm. That night, I had a wet dream. When I woke to the feel of cold wet cum in my bed, I started to panic, then I had a brilliant idea. I yelled for the attendant and before he arrived, got the sensor on my cock. When he came in I said, 'Nathan, I just had the most marvelous wet dream. I dreamed I was kissing this beautiful woman while she played with my cock. When I was good and hard, she started sucking my cock and just before I would cum, she would back off my cock and start sucking my balls. When she started rubbing her big tits over my balls and cock, it felt so good! Then she went back and started sucking my cock. Just before I shot, she started licking my cock and balls again. This time she she would start by licking the precum streaming from my cock, then down my cock, lick and suck my balls and all the way over my asshole.' The tent and growing wet spot on the front of the attendant's pants proved I was spinning a good tale.
"'When I told her I was going to come if she didn't stop, she dropped my legs on the bed -- they were over her shoulders -- straddled me and stuck my cock in her pussy and started riding me. Seems I held off for a good long time, then she leaned forward and pinched my nipples while she moved her ass in circles. Then she started riding me again, but still moving her ass in circles as she rode my cock, hell-bent for leather. Then I shot. I shot and shot and shot until cum was running out of her pussy. Do you think I could have clean sheets?' He brought me clean sheets and next morning I was called into the 'counselor's' office. There was no way I had faked the wet dream and all I had to do was spin the same story I had told the attendant.
"There were random checks during the week, but the bishop fucking Mom saved me every time. Half-way through week eight I had a moment of panic when I overheard two men talking about the 'final test.' According to one, last half of week eight, those who had chosen the straight lifestyle would be given the final test, fucking a woman. I agreed with the other guy who said that would never happen because that would be a great sin because it would involve sexual impurity on the part of both the man and woman.
"Turns out we were wrong. That was the final test. I panicked. I knew I could never get it up to fuck a woman. Saturday when I was called in for the final test and told what it involved, I said I could not engage in sexual impurity again. I was getting nowhere when the bishop came in and assured me that it would not be a sin, but a test from God. Fortunately, my cock felt very strongly that a blow job was a blow job and stood tall and proud when I started begging her to ride me. I was about ready to cum when she climbed in the saddle and only lasted a few minutes before shooting inside her. I felt sick, but I managed to hang on to my dinner.
"Mom came Saturday to pick me up and we had a joint conference with the 'counselor' who assured her I was now straight and was proof that homosexuality was a choice. Mom was pleased."
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