Exmormon Bios  : RfM
Exmormon's exit stories about how and why they left the church. 
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Posted by: foolishfox ( )
Date: January 15, 2018 04:18PM

I have been through my share of indoctrination. I was raised Mormon. I was a good little boy who played the piano. It seemed I could do no wrong. I was the head of every youth group my age, went to all the activities and knew the scriptures pretty well. By the time I entered my pre-teen to teen years I began an internal debate. I didn’t know if it was really true or if I should do all the things I saw other kids doing. Why shouldn’t I date or make out with girls. Why shouldn’t I masturbate. Certainly I did some of those things but there was a wall I was up against. I didn’t want to piss off God even if I wasn’t sure if he existed or not. It was never, what if the church is wrong – it was never what does God want me to do – it was should I not engage in sexual activities with these girls that want to with me because God doesn’t want me to.

I reached out for a sign in the way of a patriarchal blessing. Maybe if I got a message directly from God that would comfort me in my decision. All it did was delay things. For some reason I didn’t have sex with anyone until after I had gone on an LDS mission and to this day I struggle with it… I day dream of going back in time with the knowledge I now have and having sex with Kristine the German exchange student who had a condom in her sock and said “you’re the one.” It would have been her first time to – that would have been special, even if it only lasted a couple minutes, it would have affected me for a lifetime. I would probably have some other day dream like investing in yahoo before it got big or starting a forest garden in my parents backyard.

On my mission I had my first sexual experience. I was so God dam horny on my mission. I would shower, looking out the window, hoping for some glimpse of a girl who I could jerk it to. I fantasized about every woman, young or old, beautiful or ugly – I was the one that could give her what she needed. I could feed her desire. What a transference that was – I was the one that desired a hole to fuck and somehow I wanted to believe I was a stick they wanted to fuck them.

About a year or so of being in Chile and I was torn. I had come to the terms that I no longer wanted to follow the church whether it was true or not. I didn’t care. Dam me to hell I wanted to live out my desires and fantasies and I would be honest about it. I obtained some pot seeds and planted them in hope I could grow a plant. It never sprouted. I ordered some pills that were for penis enlargement/training, even though my penis size is just fine. I thought, I will turn this mission into an exercise program to make myself what I want. I began doing weightless exercise and written my feelings and emotions in a journal – sometimes cryptically and sometimes as my own form of poetry. I conjured the idea of starting a secret combination of missionaries just like Cain did. I looked for scriptures about secret combinations. I decided I was going to be a movie director and played out scenes of my movies – one of which a group of youth had decided to prove God was wrong by breaking every commandment. The movie would end by them breaking them all and then as they were running away from the police they would enter into a gun fight but they had no guns… they had paintball guns and the camera would fall to the ground and watch the leader (who was really myself) breathe his last breath.

This was not to affirm the idea that God really exists… because certainly people break the 10 commandments all the time but it was more an artistic portrayal of life’s tragedy. During this time I had met a chueco (bent) x-missionary named Heber. He seemed to like having us around and mainly me. My companion didn’t care for him to much but was easily lured by his tv. We would go to the local rental shop and pick out a movie to watch and eat at his house. I bought some pot from his friend that looked like burnt pepper and it probably was because it didn’t get me high when I made pot brownies from it.

One night we were all in Heber’s room under the covers of his bed because it was cold. Heber was in-between us and we were watching the Olympic soccer teams compete. Heber reached his arm over and lightly start touching me and for some reason I didn’t pull away even when he started touching my penis. My desire for sexual contact was greater than anything else and though I laid confused… fighting enjoying the pleasure, trying to do anything not to release the inevitable cum that was going to spurt forth from my penis. Quite frankly it now turns me on. The struggle to resist – to not cum. To be jerked off, not wanting to be gay, to know it is the wrong thing, to be tormented by my own desire, a crescendo of frustration until my limit is reached like a bullet released from its cage “I AM FREE.”

I struggled with it all. I was pretty confused. I asked Heber later one time when I came over and in the same scenario, except my companion stayed in the room and we left and closed the door and Heber gave me a blow job. I still remember the light touch of his teeth on my cock. I never would have thought that a slight amount of teeth would feel good. After I came in his mouth and he swallowed my missionary cum down I asked him “Eres gay?” “Por su puesto que si.” Really at that time I wasn’t thinking about what or wasn’t homosexual. It wasn’t about homosexuality for me, it was just a release – something I had wanted for so long and never had the guts to take for myself.

I never returned any favors to him. One time we were lying in the bed again. We were positioned differently this time, my companion watching the tv. Heber started playing with my dick again but this time it started to feel a little different… warmer. I realized what was happening… he was putting me in his ass. This wasn’t working for me. It wasn’t as good or something in me triggered that turned me off. That was the one time I could have given him something… not so much in return but we would have both gotten something out of it but for some reason I didn’t want to play.

Never did it come to my mind that this was any sort of sexual abuse or rape. Even when I decided later to talk to my Bishop about it after my mission (which later turned to a whole disciplinary council) and they were all shocked… asking me if I was tormented by the event. “No.” I said. It wasn’t until later when I was with my friend’s psychic girlfriend that was doing a type of transference therapy she had learned at a workshop where you would angrily yell at the candle. She told me that I had been raped. I never had thought about it that way. I still don’t feel that way but I can see it from that perspective. Neither do I consider myself gay but I feel that sex is non-discriminatory – it’s our thoughts or the reactor inside of us that does that.

I was later honorably discharged from the mission on account that my district leader accidentally opened the package of penis pills that I had ordered. He was confused by them and showed them to the mission president who I later talked to and was sent home a month or two early. I still tell everyone that it was because I was in the beautiful area of Chaiten and wanted to explore the mountains and beauty of the land which was all very true. I tell them this because it was true and because it is quite embarrassing that I bought penis pills. Quite frankly I am satisfied with my penis and its size. I would like to have a little more control of my ejaculation – meaning I would like to be multi-orgasmic and make love forever. I have done this before but my current partner likes it when I ejaculate and now like a trained puppy I basically cum every time she cums… or at least I think she is cumming.

The next part I want to tell because it makes me feel like an upstanding person or maybe because it was a big move on my part to do it. Immediately after I came home from my mission I told my parents that I didn’t want to go to church anymore. I didn’t necessarily not believe in Jesus or the Gospel but that it wasn’t something I wanted to do anymore. I had finally done it. I still wasn’t sure if it was true or not but I didn’t care anymore – I was going to follow my own journey and experience my own life.

Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 01/15/2018 04:19PM by foolishfox.

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