EMILE SARAH AND ME
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Em@il To God free porn video
Em@il to God: by DebWeb
Authors note: This is a philosophical tale; it is in no way intended to
offend any person of a religious persuasion. There is no sexual content
within but if your religious sensibilities are easily offended then I
urge you not to read this story.
You have been warned so please do not complain!!! Just click on to the
next brave contributor. Hey! I was fed on a diet of BBC programmes in my
childhood. Where is the ITV channel? Oops, who's got the remote
control?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*********
Re My Daddy
To God
Please help me find my daddy as Grandma has gone to heaven to be with
mummy.
If I can find daddy then I won't have to stay in the orphanage.
Please, please, please help me find daddy.
*********
This place is really bad. There is no one to love me and no one to love.
Why do those closest to me die or leave? I've always been a well behaved
boy and kept my deepest darkest secret to myself. I have never given in
to that forbidden desire although it gnaws away in my brain like a
constant tooth ache. I never hurt anybody and always try to be polite and
considerate to others. Yet I sit here on my bed unloved, unwanted and
desperately lonely. I know I've kept my incessant yearnings under control
and never submitted to them. So how could anyone know? Am I that obvious?
Can people see inside me and observe the abomination within? On the
outside I try to be like any other "normal" boy, although I'm not really
sure what the expectations of being a "normal" boy are. Rough and tumble
games I've attempted but they're not for me. The crudeness of boy's talk
I've tried but it's not in me. Why do I always feel I am on the outside
looking in? Maybe I'm an alien on a strange planet who has forgotten
where they came from and stuck in some foreign environment? Why are there
so many questions and so few answers? My last forlorn hope is to believe
there is a God and pray to him for some sort of happiness. As has been my
ritual for so many lonely nights I kneel down by my bed, clasp my hands
and pray to God.
'Dear lord I know I am not perfect and maybe I killed mummy when I came
out of her belly. If I did then I really didn't mean to and still think
of her a lot even though I never got a chance to know her for the person
she was. Grandma told me daddy left after mummy went to heaven. Please
don't let him blame me for killing mummy. Please help us be a family. I
hope you got my e-mail but I just felt I should ask you in person. Please
look after mummy and grandma. Thank you, God.'
I really hope God hears my prayers as he may be the last friend I have on
this strange world. I shall go to bed now and wish for that deep blissful
sleep with no dreams and no awareness just a pleasant sense of
nothingness.
"Wakey, wakey, David."
'Humph.... What.. Who are you?'
"I am Rita and I've come to help you find your path."
'You're not one of the care workers; I do not know who you are.'
"I'm the answer to your prayers; God is very busy so he passed your e-
mail on to me."
'But who are you?'
"Really David you should have figured it out by now."
'Well I know you can't be God 'cause he is a man and you are a woman.'
"What makes you think God is a man?"
'Cause the bible tells me so; silly, everyone knows God is a man.'
"Do they really know or do they just assume?" Rita did have a mischievous
streak.
This is rather confusing. 'But if God is a woman why do men make all the
important decisions?'
"Do they really? Why should God be either a man or a woman? What if, God
was somewhere in between?"
'How can anyone be in between?'
"David; you know the answer already! Look within and be honest to
yourself." Rita still could not understand the human psyche in all the
years she had done this job. Why were these mortals always in such self-
denial?
'I know I'm a boy because that is what I've been told and I know God is a
man and I've never heard of anything in between.' I wish I could stop
dreaming.
"If God IS a man how did he create womankind?"
I had to think about that one. 'He created Eve from Adam's rib!'
"Really, do you think it was that simple?"
'Yes, 'cause that's what the bible says.' This is one stupid lady.
"Who wrote the bible David?"
'Well that's obvious; God did!'
"Are you sure about that?"
'Of course; everyone knows that! Where have you been?'
"Oh, I've been here and there." An obtuse Rita replied.
'If God didn't write the bible, then who did?'
"Well ask yourself this David. Who else do you know who could possibly
write it?"
This is so perplexing! A little light bulb switched on inside. 'I know!'I
cried out. 'Man must have written it for God!'
"Very good David; but did man write it on behalf of God or did he write
it for his own designs?"
'I'm only eleven years old; how can I understand these things?' This
strange lady was really making me feel confused.
"That's alright David; as long as you live by the Ten Commandments you
have nothing to feel guilty about."
'Why do you think I feel guilty about anything?' She was beginning to
really annoy me now.
"David please trust me, I'm only here to help you find your true self."
Humans are so slow on the uptake was the thought that crossed her mind.
'I know who I am!' This lady is so rude; I want to waken up now.
"No you don't know who you are David; you just try to fit in to please
other people's expectations. That is why you are not true to yourself"
'What do you mean?' this lady was dancing around my innermost secret. 'No
one really knows who I am inside?'
"A.. ha that is where you lack the courage to tell them the honest
truth."
I crumbled at this point. Why? I don't know maybe it was the girl within
but I really felt a need to share. 'I know who I am but because of my
extra appendage everyone treats me as if I was a boy.'
"And yet your inner being is pure girl and that is the true essence of
your soul."
I really knew what the meanings of her words were but if only life was
that simple. 'It's like I was born in the wrong clothes but I can't shed
the skin as easily as change my clothes. I'm stuck in the wrong body.
'Does even God make mistakes?'
Rita smiled sympathetically at the faux boy. She knew David's outward
appearance belied the true nature of the girl residing within. "God does
everything for a reason. Do you think you would be such a kind and
compassionate little person if you did not suffer your conflicting
feelings?"
'But it hurts so much. Why did God play such a cruel trick on me? Why did
he not make me normal like everyone else?' I tried my best to stifle my
tears but it can be so difficult. Crying always eased my pain a little
bit.
"God gave you the gift of life David and you must make the best of your
lot. Most everyone suffers their inner turmoil and feelings of self-
doubts. Some handle their insecurity by being cruel to others but many
are like you; kind and compassionate. The pain you feel also creates your
empathy for your fellow human beings."
'It hurts so much!' I could not stem my tears any longer and allowed the
well to spring forth. 'I have to be true to my physical appearance as
that is how everyone perceives me.'
"You possess the courage to fight for who you really are; do not allow
the ignorance of others prevent you being true to yourself." Rita felt
the little girl's pain and her heart reached out to her. How do you
explain the constant feeling of wrongness to the unenlightened? Perhaps
if you showed them a wounded fox trapped in a horrific man trap chewing
desperately at their imprisoned leg in order to free them self?
'But my daddy will never accept me as my true self; my outer shell says
I'm a boy and he will never understand the girl inside me.'
"Oh David don't you realise your so called daddy has already rejected you
and abandoned you without ever knowing you?" Rita felt a pang of regret
at the brutality of her words. The truth hurts but what more effective
way is there to convey an important realisation?
I had to swallow a big lump in my throat before I was able to speak to
this apparition again. 'I want to be part of a family again.' I could
hear the desperation in my own voice as it climbed up the musical scale.
"And you will Davina but you must have courage in order to find
acceptance." Rita's heart went out to the little girl who was trapped in
what seemed like an impossible situation.
'Daddy is my last hope of a normal family life.' I'm not sure if I was
trying to convince myself or this peculiar visitor who stood before me.
Everyone needs a little faith to survive after all even if it may be
mistaken for superstition.
"You can have a happy life Davina; but you must give up the vain hope
that your daddy is going to sweep you up in his arms and rescue you."
This lady was shattering my last vestige of hope. I loved the way she
referred to me in the feminine context but what's a lost girl such as me
to do? I could not see how she was helping my situation in any
constructive manner.
"David!" Rita saw the pain spreading across the little girl's face at the
very mention of the masculine name he had been cursed with. Rita felt his
pain.>Oh God why do I keep making these stupid mistakes? < "You can be
happy Davina but it will require courage."
This strange lady had earned my trust although I was not entirely sure
why.
"Your daddy has made a new life and a new family for himself; I'm sorry
Davina but there is no place for you there."
This is one bad lady! How could she take all my hopes and desire's away
from me in one sentence?
'GO AWAY! GO AWAY! I do not want to hear anymore!' I felt really small as
I dug my fingers into my ears.
Rita could palpably feel the child's misery but in order to complete her
mission some painful things were required to be talked about aloud. Air
the laundry; so to speak. "You know in your heart who you really are
Davina so don't try to live a lie."
I thought this lady understood me but she does not have to walk in my
shoes. What she was proposing would lead me into a life of ridicule and
loneliness. 'I have to be the boy that God made me as that is what he
intended.' David's plaintive tone betrayed his real conviction. It was
exhausting trying to live a life which was contrary to one's true nature.
To be accepted for who you appear to be is of paramount importance but
what if you are living a lie in doing so?
My heart broke into what felt like a million pieces as I realised the
futility of my future. 'God if this is the gift of life you have bestowed
upon me then take it back, I do not want it!' The pain of the life lying
before me was ripping at my fragmented heart. Nothingness, the inviting
thought of nonexistence seemed sweeter than the pain that permeated my
very being.
Rita's heart was also on the verge of breaking. Of all the missions that
God had designated to her she found this the most painful to resolve.
"Sweet child God has a reason for everything he does and you will find
your reward if you have a little patience."
'What can I do? God frowns upon liars and yet he makes me live a lie! I
did not ask to be born this way so why can't I be happy in my own skin?
Why did God make my life more difficult than everyone else's?' Yet again
David thought; more questions than answers.
"You hold onto the courage of your convictions Davina, if you want to
live the truth then you must trust me."
David's curiosity was piqued. In times of desperation any lifeline was
always welcome. 'I have courage.' He replied tentatively. 'It is the
people in my life that run scared when they see the contradiction within
me.'
"You probably heard about how clothes maketh the man haven't you Davina?"
I had to think about that one; once again. 'I remember that cleanliness
is next to Godliness and I remember something about clothes. I had
attended Sunday school and read parts of the bible but to be honest I
could not comprehend most of it. None of it seemed to apply towards my
dilemma. I had heard adults joking about Adam and Steve in a somewhat
stifled uncomfortable and nervous humour. I did look for Adam and Steve
in the bible but all I could find was Eve.
I never could understand the thing about the poisoned apple and how
Adam's rib was used to create woman. Was it not women who gave birth to
men? Maybe it was the chicken and egg syndrome I could not come to terms
with.
Yes even children as young as me can question the idiosyncrasies of
adult's incoherent beliefs.
Rita sighed in what was not a little frustration. Why did these mortals
take everything so literally? "If the clothes maketh the man then the
same must apply to the clothes maketh the woman."
'Okay but how does that help me?'
At last! A breakthrough in this sweet child's armour. "If you really are
the girl you claim to be then prove it."
How can I prove I'm a girl when my body screamed boy on the day of my
conception and then I came out of my mother's womb nine months later?
Actually I came out early inside the second trimester. Did I forget to
mention that I was a premature delivery? Oh for that second dose of
testosterone to make my brain masculine! I was so light in weight the
midwife described me as light as a two pound bag of sugar. Little did she
know the truth of her prophetic words? I was all sugar and spice despite
her diagnosis due to my insignificant appendage she still declared I was
a snail and comprised of puppy dogs' tails. I want to scream to the world
now!!! I'm a girl! You all made a mistake when you diagnosed me as a boy.
It feels like a terminal illness, if you keep insisting I'm a boy then I
want to kill myself.
'I really think you should leave 'cause you really are not helping my
predicament anymore.' I was feeling really angry now; whatever was going
on here seemed to be feeding off my pain.
Rita could see she was losing the boy's attention so she decided to cut
to the chase. "Remember that dress you *borrowed* from Debbie when you
sneaked into her room?"
I went a brighter shade of red if that was possible. This lady could not
know about that as I was very careful not to be seen. I alleviated my
shame in the thought that Debbie had only worn that dress once. After all
I had only liberated it from a dark recess. Such a pretty dress deserved
to see daylight.
"The pink camisole or was it a vest sort of thingy and matching panties.
Remember you were looking for a bra that would not be missed but there
was only one in the drawer?
Who was this person? How could she know my innermost secrets?
"Remember your delight when you found that pair of white opaque tights
with the motifs of tiny hearts laced prettily all over them? Why little
girl did you manage to refrain from *borrowing* those enticing patent
leather ballet pumps?"
'Stop torturing me please go away!' I was suffering a new height of
embarrassment I had never felt before. After all I had been so very
careful when I dressed in my proper clothes. I now realised all my
careful plans for secrecy were only a delusion. I felt so exposed now.
"Davina please believe me when I tell you that I am not accusing you of
anything untoward. I am only here to help. After all it was you who sent
the e-mails."
What was it about this stranger? I wish she would go away. I've always
prided myself for being the sort of person who does not react to bullies
or aggressive people. I maintain my dignity and move on.
Rita knew by the child's expression upon his face that she may well be
losing her. She found herself asking similar questions to God. She was a
rookie and yet God had given her the most complicated of assignments.
I could not deny the fact that I did send the e-m@il to God but I thought
that was a private message between me and HIM. Had God betrayed my trust?
Divulged my innermost secret? Broken a trust which could potentially be
irrevocable? So many questions and so few answers.
As Rita studied the child's look of confusion written all over her face
she felt a burning need to console her. "Davina; there is a way to
resolve your situation but in doing so will require a lot of bravery on
your part."
I was caught on a hook now. Any resolution to make me feel content would
make me happy! 'I'll do anything to get rid of the constant pain I feel.'
Rita was well aware of what she was about to suggest to this little
person and knew what the reaction may well be. "Davina you must have the
courage of your conviction and wear that pretty dress for all to see who
you really are."
I was mortified now. Was she suggesting I wear a dress in front of those
tormentors who made my life so unbearable? 'I can't do that!' I felt my
own voice screeching and realised that I was making my true nature all
too obvious for all and sunder to see beneath my fa?ade.
"Davina, now is the time to declare who you really are and that does
require courage. Do you want to live this lie for the rest of your
foreseeable future or do you want to be you?
I had to concede to that thought of logic when I thought of a long
depressing life living a lie. I'd rather die young in this male form than
live the lie which my future promised me. Could I possibly be brave
enough? What would the repercussions be? Could I be strong enough to be
true to myself? Did it really matter to me the opinions of those people
who did not care about me? Who were they anyway? They were uncaring
strangers who only chastised my gentle manner in order to stem their own
insecurities. In that moment after all the questions I asked of myself I
came to a realisation. Call it self-enlightenment if you will. Why do I
worry about those who neither know me nor care but are determined to make
my life a misery regardless?
Rita could not help but notice the introspectiveness of the child. She
respected this comfortable silence as the young person figured it out for
themself.
I was coming to a realisation. How much more could I be bullied if I
appeared to all and sunder wearing a dress? How much more could they make
me feel as miserable as I already felt without any provocation on my
part? Would it be any worse if I was to suddenly appear in a dress? After
all does the bible not say to treat others as you would treat yourself?
I felt in all my self-contemplation I had already arrived at the truth
and reached a profound and life changing decision.
Rita saw the self-awareness and the contented smile spread upon the
child's face. She knew her work was almost done. "Sweet dreams child of
God and may all your wishes come true." Rita kissed the child on the
forehead and departed on a new quest. Her work here was done.
I awoke bright and early the following morning. All too aware of the
wonderful dream experienced during the night, a feeling of vigour and
unusual confidence seemed to be instilled in my outlook. Although reality
would deny the facts of Rita's visitation it somehow compelled me to
follow the courage of an instinctive belief. Throwing caution to the wind
an irrevokable path was the only course left open to me if I had any hope
of finding happiness.
With no further ado several determined strides led to the closet door.
Ironically that dress which had been liberated from sis's dark recess was
hiding and folded carefully in an even darker corner in an effort not to
be discovered by unwelcome visitors.
I would like to think that dream Rita was observing my determined action
from a discreet and invisible distance. Who can say for certain?
With that newfound confidence and dogged determination I carefully laid
out the pretty dress on top of my bedspread so as to avoid any creases.
Of course I knew that I could not justify wearing it without the
appropriate underwear which would make the whole outfit feel naturally
complete upon my skin. Pulling out the underwear and the delicious white
tights with their lacy heart motifs I felt a surety about what I was
about to do. If I was going to continue to suffer rejection from my peers
then why should I not at least suffer in a dress as opposed to the
trousers I always had to wear?
I had a brief moment of self-doubt as I gazed upon all the forbidden
apparel lying neatly upon my bed. Was I really doing the right thing I
wondered? A slight breeze tickled my neck and made me giggle. With this
moment of humour all hesitation slipped away and I did what came
naturally to a boy such as me.
I slipped on the crisp white cotton panties and the matching camisole.
With instinctive ease those lovely white tights caressed my legs as I
rolled them upwards towards my waist. I slipped the pastel blue dress
over my head and savoured the way it fell down to just above my knees in
a cocoon like sensation. The closet mirror held no fear for me as I
admired the reflection of the little girl I was meant to be gazing back
in my direction. .A slight sadness entered my thoughts as I looked down
at my unclad feet. I could not pilfer my sister's shoes as they would be
missed and questions would be asked. Not that it mattered anymore as I
was about to announce my true self to all those antagonists who resided
in this horrid childrens home and damn the consequences. After all life
could not be any more miserable than it already was.
I felt another cool breeze blow against the hemline of my dress and a
whisper against my nylon clad thighs. With a renewed confidence I knew
what was required to make my appearance even more girly. Since my hair
was a permissible shoulder length for boy standards it enabled me to use
not one but two hairbands. Instead of the accustomed low pony tail
allowed to boys I inserted two. The pigtails on my head screamed sugar
and spice and all things nice. With a contented smile at the sight of the
cute girl reflected in the mirror I knew what I was about to do was the
proper course of action.
Barely able to withdraw from the reflection of that pretty girl I
reluctantly stepped backwards and promptly tripped over something only to
fall onto my rump. Propping myself up from the floor in a somewhat
ungainly manner I saw the cause of my descent. A pair of white Mary
Jane's with a low one inch heel! Too excited to question where they had
appeared from I buckled them on to my feet. I felt a strange sensation of
security and completeness as if the shoes were the last piece of a jig-
saw puzzle.
Now came the moment of truth as I contemplated my closed bedroom door;
the last barrier between me and the world outside. Did I really have the
courage to step over into the unknown and state the truth of my real
being?
The door clicked open and stood slightly ajar. My heart jumped within my
ribcage as I imagined my sister walking into my room unannounced as was
sometimes her custom.
To my relief there was only silence as the door stood in a static
position. Probably the door frame expanding with the warmth of the house.
Central heating tends to make wood do funny things. Such as strange
things that creak in the night's coolness or so I mused.
The confounded door still seemed to be an insurmountable barrier as my
feet felt heavy as lead. My own indecisiveness was making me angry. Why
did I feel resolute one minute and then feel these moments of self-doubt
the next?
I paced around my bedroom barely taking my eyes off the plank of wood
which I would have to step through if I had any hope of a better life
than this current one.
Although my Mary Jane's only had a one inch heel I still managed to slip
over them and collide into the closet mirror. In my surprise I barely
recognised the pretty girl I bumped heads with. Regaining my composure I
realised the girl in the mirror was me. Why should I feel ashamed of her
as she was as real as any other little girl?
Staring determinedly at the door I spoke aloud if only to give myself
courage. "One small step for mankind and one giant leap for this little
girl." I boldly walked through the final barrier.
The exterior of my bedroom seemed unfamiliar but yet strangely welcoming.
The layout of the family home made me feel a sense of warmth and
security. 'Family home?' I still had a vague memory of the uncaring
institution that passed for a children's care home.
I could hear the shuffling of someone's feet around what I determined was
the direction of the kitchen. I approached yet another confounded door.
Feeling a slight trepidation I entered the kitchen in all my feminine
finery. With an irrefutable certainty I sensed who the woman was. "Good
morning mummy," I said with the utmost conviction.
My mother turned away from her chores to acknowledge my presence. "Good
morning sweetheart." Giving me; her youngest daughter a warm hug she
asked me. "How is my pretty princess feeling on this fine morning?"
I basked in the warmth of my mother's love and acceptance and a calm
contentment washed through my soul. I was convinced that I had been
kissed by an angel.
Thank you Rita whoever you are.
Finis.
Libbie
- 27.04.2021
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