Marty, Tonya, and Major Confusion
last updated on Tuesday, June 14, 2005 at 5:05:30 AM CST

regarding events somewhere about 15 March, 1985

WARNING!  The following text is graphic in nature, and deals with sexual abuse that I experienced from the age of 10 through the age of 17.  This is the fourth "chapter" in the events I'm chronicling, and I apologize in advance for the graphic detail.  Readers of a younger or more sensitive nature should avoid reading further.

If you haven't read part one, part two, or part three, I suggest going back and reading them first.

My mother continued to work at the massage parlor, and working more and more hours.  You see, Brian, her third husband, was a deadbeat.  I think he held one job, at a movie theater, the entire time we lived in Danville.  Instead, he spent most of his time at home, and if he was horny, he had me to get him off.  The more confused about sex I got, the more I wanted to have sex with him, too.  It was as if he had some strange answer to the cravings that were now going wild in me.

You see, I was now completely afraid to change or shower after gym class.  I had been told I couldn't talk about having sex with Brian, but every time I saw one of my classmates nude in the locker room, I'd feel my dick getting hard.  I can't tell you how often I'd go home and jack off thinking about one of my classmates doing another one of my classmates.  Not that this ever happened, but suddenly I was surrounded by dicks that I wanted to play with.  Particularly George, Romero, and Troy.  I won't talk about why, because that's far too much info, but suffice to say, in the moment I was in then, it was something I wanted.

This particular problem almost manifested at my house one evening.  A friend of mine, Nathan Donaldson, was spending the night, and we went to bed.  He pulled off his pants, and he was wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of red briefs.  Not bikini briefs, mind you... he was my age.  But the red underwear, and the fact that I thought Nathan was cute, almost led me to raping him.  I swear to you, I waited until he was asleep, and then I almost reached over to him, but something told me that would be wrong, and so I didn't.  I did wake up later and find out he'd gone home (mostly because our bathroom was infested with roaches, and he was afraid of them), and then I jerked off like you wouldn't believe.  But, really, looking back on it, I can't believe I was that close to just reaching out and doing something I shouldn't have.

Shortly after that incident, my mother brought a friend home to live with us.  Her name was Marty, and she was going to be sleeping on the living room couch.  Her daughter, Tonya, was going to be sharing a room with my sister.  And I was about to get the first major clues that what Brian and I were doing really was wrong.

You see, I still wanted to have sex, and I'd leave notes laying around for Brian to try to find out when we could.  Well, soon I was told to stop writing notes, because Marty had found one, and he had a very hard time explaining to her what the notes were all about.  I have no idea what he told her, but she seemed appeased by it.  That or he was fucking her too, so she really didn't care.  I really don't know.

All I know for certain is that her presence made home life more difficult.  Not only because Brian and I ended up fucking in the basement a couple of times, or whenever they weren't around, but because she brought with her a drug problem.  A problem that soon involved my entire family, save me.  I remember watching everyone sit around smoking joints or bongs or bowls.  My sister and Tonya included (Tonya was nine, my sister was six).  If they wanted pot, all they had to do was ask.

More than once, they offered pot to me.  This is where the survival of these years because of my sister's father, Al, started to come into play.  At a very young age, he'd given me the speech about drugs, and explained to me that it did bad things to your mind, and basically told me I should avoid them.  Well, I took those words to heart, and so when it was offered to me, I actually said no.  I wanted nothing to do with it.

I remember Marty driving one day while smoking a joint with a roach clip.  I remember all of the paraphanailia lying around.  I remember my sister flunking first grade (gee, I wonder why).  It was a couple of months of hell.

And I remember the last time Brian and I had sex before the summer.  We'd all gone out to a state park to take part in some event held by the Society of Creative Anachronists, I believe.  A "live action" Dungeons & Dragons style warfare siege battle with foam covered "swords" and "arrows' and such.  Well, I spent most of the morning trying to find a place to jerk off, and was almost busted by my sister and Tonya.  But later, during lunch break, I asked Brian if we could go have sex, and he and I found the spot I'd jerked off at earlier, and blew each other.

Yes, that's how bold he was.  He and I had oral sex in a state park.  He was blowing and getting head from an eleven year old boy in the middle of a state park, and he thought absolutely nothing of it.  Now, I admit, I didn't think anything of it at the time, because I just wanted to get off.  But you'd think someone who was nearly 30 years old would think twice about sex with a minor in a public park.  Not him.

Well, I was sent to spend the summer with my grandparents in their new home in Bolingbrook, and my sister eventually joined me there after a few weeks at her dad's.  It was the last time I'd see anything of Danville, because in August, my mother lost her job (they'd closed down the parlor), and rather than finding a new job, or asking Brian to find one, they moved out, and came up here to live with my grandparents.

It's sort of funny looking back on that year, because, while I had so many issues at home, and wouldn't change in front of others in gym class, you probably wouldn't have known it so much at school or when I was hanging out with friends.  Well, except for one incident I almost forgot.

I had these friends, Shane, and his cousin Luke.  Both were really cute (to me back then).  Well, we had this barn/garage that had a room upstairs that I used as a clubhouse.  One day, the three of us were upstairs, and my sister came up.  They started talking about sex, and my sister was sort of egging them on.  Luke was, as I recall, a couple of years older than me and Shane, and probably just in puberty himself.  Well, my sister unzipped her pants, and both Shane and Luke got "a taste" and then Luke whipped out his dick, and rubbed it against her vagina.  There was no penetration, and it really wasn't more than a brief brushing, because then my sister got up, zipped up her pants, and went off to play.

In retrospect, I wonder whether or not Brian ever did anything with her that I didn't know about.  It's hard to say.  I do know that her behavior about sex wasn't normal then, and after she hit puberty, it really wasn't anything even remotely normal.  I really can't say for sure though.

It's odd though.  You would think that moving in with my grandparents would have ended the abuse.  After all, my sister and I shared one room, my mom and Brian had another room, and my grandparents the master bedroom.  It's really a fairly small house.  But, as I'll continue another time, the move to Bolingbrook didn't stop a thing at all.

Part Three • Part Five (coming soon)