Straight Female / 34
I Was His Chosen To Bear His Children Now I Have Supervised Visitation
I met him when I got my first 'job' after college, real money, benefits, a desk, 8-5. I was soooo young, immature, influenceable, and unaware that older men have a permanent hard on for young, healthy, baby ready women. After my onboarding I was asked to the outer conference room. The HR woman, and this man were there. He was polite, he was the hooking bull of the 'outfit'. I felt it immediately. He welcomed me, told me that discretion was important, keep what I saw or heard as company property, stay off of Facebook, polite and demure was a good personal posture, 'hot' was not appropriate, I was now a 'professional', remember that.
During my first year I was reminded, by him, of my primary duty, wife and mother. I could fit my profession around those pillars. I 'understood' by his tone, words, and reminded by the HR woman, that 'dating' was frowned upon. I was watched, given projects, promoted, raises appropriate, and drawn into his inner circle. At meetings I sat beside him. I was often invited to represent the 'outfit' in social settings. I was 24 and he wanted my opinion. I had by then lost all personal space with him. Embraced, kissed, advised, reminded, God's purpose for me, wife and mother.
And I talked and talked with him about becoming a mother. If I worried about money he told me, 'my babies will be taken care of, and their mother need not worry'. Dare I imagine? That I, a poor example of a woman, be his idea of the mother of his children? He was gentle, but not so gentle, firm is the word, the 'hooking bull' and I was the object of his affection. I was in love, taken to him, he was the man of the house, I was being made pregnant by him.
I had two boys when the pandemic happened, scared beyond scared for them. I went to stay at the cabin in Colorado, the staff tested, checked, kept their distance. He flew in on the weekends, testy, angry at the circumstances, revenues cut to a fraction of usual, refusing to take a government handout. Decisions that were painful, employees lost their jobs, or left, but good people out of work hurt him. And while he suffered, I cheated on him.
Loneliness, stress, sheer immaturity, a staff member, thirty, healthy, a rising bull kept his distance when the hooking bull was there, but like a snake in the grass struck when I was alone with him. He wasn't gentle, far from it, he was abusive. Forced himself on me, took, without apology, stole from the man of the house, his young wife. And I let him. An appetite I was unaware of awakened, I cheated on the man, my husband, the father of my children.
No apology is a remedy, no amount of groveling, now untrusted, not wanted, held at a distance. The man of the house prefers his meals without me. I live in a small house, I have supervised visitation. And that wannabe bull, he's digging ditches.
During my first year I was reminded, by him, of my primary duty, wife and mother. I could fit my profession around those pillars. I 'understood' by his tone, words, and reminded by the HR woman, that 'dating' was frowned upon. I was watched, given projects, promoted, raises appropriate, and drawn into his inner circle. At meetings I sat beside him. I was often invited to represent the 'outfit' in social settings. I was 24 and he wanted my opinion. I had by then lost all personal space with him. Embraced, kissed, advised, reminded, God's purpose for me, wife and mother.
And I talked and talked with him about becoming a mother. If I worried about money he told me, 'my babies will be taken care of, and their mother need not worry'. Dare I imagine? That I, a poor example of a woman, be his idea of the mother of his children? He was gentle, but not so gentle, firm is the word, the 'hooking bull' and I was the object of his affection. I was in love, taken to him, he was the man of the house, I was being made pregnant by him.
I had two boys when the pandemic happened, scared beyond scared for them. I went to stay at the cabin in Colorado, the staff tested, checked, kept their distance. He flew in on the weekends, testy, angry at the circumstances, revenues cut to a fraction of usual, refusing to take a government handout. Decisions that were painful, employees lost their jobs, or left, but good people out of work hurt him. And while he suffered, I cheated on him.
Loneliness, stress, sheer immaturity, a staff member, thirty, healthy, a rising bull kept his distance when the hooking bull was there, but like a snake in the grass struck when I was alone with him. He wasn't gentle, far from it, he was abusive. Forced himself on me, took, without apology, stole from the man of the house, his young wife. And I let him. An appetite I was unaware of awakened, I cheated on the man, my husband, the father of my children.
No apology is a remedy, no amount of groveling, now untrusted, not wanted, held at a distance. The man of the house prefers his meals without me. I live in a small house, I have supervised visitation. And that wannabe bull, he's digging ditches.
