#and my church at the time's girls' group taught us girls that had oral sex had acne around their lips

[gxlden-angels]

Sometimes working through religious trauma is a heartfelt hour talking about reclaiming your bodily autonomy after being sexualized and shamed from a young age with your religious trauma coach and other times it's this text message from your therapist then a caption suggestion to "show my tumblr friends":

[ascendingtostardust]

Angel Of Small Death (18+)

Josh Kiszka x F Reader

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: mentions of religion and religious trauma, religious themes, spanking (if you squint really hard), slight degradation, spitting, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up, y’all) **if I’m missing any please let me know!**

a/n: this was sitting in my docs, half finished, for almost a year and it was time to finally finish her. This is my first piece of full-on smut and the longest thing I’ve ever written, so please be kind to me. Any feedback is always welcomed!

+++

Spending the summer in the middle of the woods with a handful of adults your age and an overwhelming amount of kids somehow sounded like a good time when you voluntarily signed up. You had never been to camp as a kid and when the opportunity to be a camp counselor presented itself through your mom’s church, you knew you had to take it. You had grown up very religious - going to church every Sunday and youth group every Friday night, only surrounding yourself with people that shared your own views, and being expected to uphold traditional morals. As a teenager, you began questioning everything the church taught you and eventually started exploring the experiences you had missed out on for years of your life.

Although you had blown through your “teenage to-do list” by the age of 18, one thing that you couldn’t bring yourself to do was actually have sex. The guilt that came along with such intimacy before marriage was drilled into your subconscious from an early age and never failed to make an appearance whenever the opportunity arose. It’s not that you didn’t want to experience it, you had urges like everyone else, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break the barrier in your mind and push past the guilt. You had slowly gotten better about accepting the idea of being so vulnerable with someone over the years, but still wanted that person to feel “right” to you and you had never found that right person…until you met Josh.

His name came up frequently in your house, your mom constantly trying to set you up with the man that led the youth worship group at her church. Her attempts were always met with a groan and an excuse as to why you “didn’t want to get involved with a church boy.”

“But he’s a great kid, please just give him a chance!” Your mom would reply, getting more and more frustrated each time you wouldn’t give in to her incessant pleas but still not letting it go.

You didn’t even know what Josh looked like, let alone what his personality was like and blind dates weren’t exactly your thing, especially with guys that were as involved in their church as Josh seemingly was. Looking back, it was easy to see that your mom had a whole plan to get you two to meet one way or another and that was why she was so eager to help you sign up to be a counselor at the camp that a few local churches got together to host each summer.

The first few days at the camp were merely orientation for the adults that would be in charge of the campers for the next couple of weeks and you enjoyed the other girls in your orientation group and being in the little oasis in the middle of the woods.

However, a particular boy caught your eye from the moment you saw him get out of his car and effortlessly sling his duffel bag over his shoulder, the setting sun catching the curls that sat at the top of his head and creating a halo effect above him. As soon as he caught your eye, you looked away and felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment that he saw you practically gawking at the way the counselor t-shirt you were all given hugged his shoulders and chest just right.

It was two days after you had first laid eyes on Josh when he finally came over to you during lunch break, taking a seat across from you at the picnic table you occupied alone. You preferred to be alone during lunch, using the time to write in your journal, read a book, or quietly sit with your own thoughts. Startled that someone just invited themselves to sit at your table, you looked up from your book quickly to meet Josh’s warm brown eyes that stared into your own expectedly.

“Uh hi, Josh…” You said, giving him a questioning look and marking the page you left on in your book, slowly closing it and pushing it to the side.

“Hi, angel.” The nickname rolled off his tongue and hit you right in the stomach, leaving lingering butterflies.

The two of you had been introduced by one of the girls in your orientation group earlier and right away you were both intrigued and intimidated by the man. Josh looked at you as if he saw right through the “church girl” act you put on to better fit in, a smirk always playing at his lips when he observed you interacting with the other counselors.

“Do you need something?” You asked as nicely as you could, confused as to why he was looking at you the way that he was.

“I just came to say that I’m really happy we got paired up as age buddies. I’m interested in getting to know you a little better.” And there was that knowing smirk. He somehow figured you out without ever having a real one-on-one conversation with you lasting more than 5 minutes.

You gave him another questioning look, not knowing what he was talking about or why it seemingly brought him so much joy.

“Age buddies?” You prompted, letting your eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“So each counselor gets paired up with all of the girls or all of the boys in a certain age group, but the counselor of the boys and of the girls are buddies and have to plan activities and stuff together. Make sense?”

“Yeah, yeah that makes sense. So we’re really going to be spending a lot of time together then, huh?” You asked, already knowing the answer but trying to prolong the conversation as long as you could to be able to admire how his toned arms looked as he leaned his elbows on the wooden table.

“Oh loads of time, angel,” he began getting up from the table, “and I can’t wait.” Walking backwards for a few strides as he finished his statement before leaving you with a wink and turning around to jog back over to the small wooden chapel to finish preparing the welcome sermon for that night when the campers arrived.

+

Being “buddies” with Josh had its perks, but was just as draining and frustrating as it was exciting. He always seemed to find a way to leave a lingering touch on your arm or lower back as he walked past you or came up to mutter some complaint about his campers to make you giggle. It’s not that you weren’t doing your part to get him back for it, though. Moving your knee to “accidentally” bump his as you sat almost hip-to-hip next to the nightly bonfire, asking for his help applying sunscreen to your back and neck before a day in the sun, and letting your hand linger a beat too long on his shoulder when trying to grab his attention.

He knew you noticed his advances and you knew he noticed yours, but both of you lived for the back and forth and the tension that only got more and more unbearable as the first week of camp quickly came to a close and the second week threatened to only make things worse.

It surprised you how naturally you fell into a daily rhythm with Josh, contributing most of it to the fact that you had to spend every day together, but the very obvious spark between you two definitely contributed as well. Of course, you didn’t expect any sort of a “hook up” to occur while you were working a summer camp, let alone a church camp. However, after enduring a few days of Josh’s intentional teasing and testing you decided to let whatever was going to happen, happen.

+

The other surprising element to working the camp was how quickly you fell back into old thought patterns and behavior. You were long past the days of praying for guidance or clarity when life felt like it was way too overwhelming for one person, but yet…here you were. Having to bow your head and fold your hands with the kids during worship every morning left you grasping at it as a last resort after what happened earlier that day.

Yours and Josh’s groups were gathered together in an empty rec cabin that held no purpose other than storage for the various random pieces of equipment for games that the camp set up most days. That day, though, all of the rain that the sky had been collecting all summer began to pour down and oversaturate the earth.

Although no phones were technically allowed within camp limits, you and Josh realized that the two of you had both broken the rules after he asked for your number to “help coordinate plans for the day better” one the third day of working together. On this particular day, the rain completely ruined your plans for swimming and volleyball and your face lit up as your phone softly buzzed from its spot in the waistband of your jeans while you sat with a few campers at breakfast.

Josh: Meet us in the rec cabin. Tell NO ONE.

Collecting the kids and telling them the plan in a hushed tone, they followed your lead down the overgrown path to the cabin you hoped Josh and his campers were already waiting for you in. After arriving to find that it was, in fact, not Josh and his group trying to prank you again, everyone began grouping together as they typically did throughout the day and excitedly chattering about being in the “forbidden cabin.”

Josh slid up next to you, bumping your hip with his own. You looked over at him and tried to hide the grin that began to spread across your lips as the two of you took each other in for just long enough that none of the kids would notice and ask if you were “boyfriend and girlfriend” like they had begun doing a few days prior. The rain had made his curls even more unruly and the collar of his shirt sat wet and heavy against his skin from the drops of water that still dripped down his neck from his hair.

“So…” You started, attempting to prompt him into conversation.

“So?” He fired back while turning to fully face you.

“Why’d you drag me all the way out here, huh? Trying to get us caught and sent home early?” You raised an eyebrow at him but kept your voice soft so only he could hear you.

Josh stared at the ground for a moment before finally finding the right words to say. “Would that be so bad?”

What he meant by that, you weren’t sure. The shrug of his shoulders made you think that he didn't mean much by the response and maybe didn’t even think much about his response, he just said whatever came to mind. But on the other hand, it ignited your own thoughts and sent your mind racing with possibilities. They were only halted when Josh quickly surveyed the various small groups of kids in their own little worlds around the room and grabbed onto your hand, still damp from the walk though the rain. He didn’t even seem phased, though, as he lifted your fingers to his plump lips to kiss each knuckle so softly that you almost didn’t even feel it happening.

Just as quickly as it happened, the moment came to an end when a loud crash and the sound of each kid immediately blaming someone else filled the room. As confused as ever, one thing was for sure - sinful thoughts about Josh and his lips were going to be running through your mind for the rest of the day.

+

Being assigned the role of locking up the chapel each night after nightly group prayer also had its perks, as you realized that it was the only moment that you could truly just sit alone in quiet and stillness. The thought of Josh’s lips on your body hadn’t left your mind all day and began making you almost feel dizzy at the thought that maybe he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

You knelt on both knees on the second step leading up to the altar where dozens of candles from the nightly service still flickered and cast a deep red hue against each wall of the small chapel. With your eyes closed and palms pressed together, your forehead leaned against your connected thumbs as you mumbled a string of words only comprehensible to yourself.

Your attempt at asking for forgiveness for the impure thoughts you couldn’t seem to stop from dancing through your mind whenever you saw Josh was cut short when you heard the wooden door to the chapel creak open and light footsteps echo behind you. Not wanting to be bothered, you refused to turn around to see who was interrupting you and kept your eyes closed, but your thoughts raced as the mystery intruder continued closer and closer. Just from the smell of palo santo that wafted through the air, you knew that you were about to be joined by the subject of your sinful desires.

Although you sensed his presence, a warm hand placed on your cheek still startled you, forcing your eyes open to find Josh crouching in front of you wearing loose grey sweatpants and a baggy white t-shirt. It was the most casual outfit you had seen him in, considering the fact that all counselors had a strict dress code consisting of a camp t-shirt with jeans or khakis. One thing remained the same though, a necklace of white glass beads hung around his neck, the chunky white cross at the end falling just above his navel. Your mind began to wander as you stared at the man in front of you, wondering how the cross on his necklace would feel dragging across your bare-

“You okay, angel?” His voice pulled you back to reality, a look of genuine concern painted across his face.

“Yeah- yeah I’m fine, just…” you shook your head slightly, trying to put together a coherent thought, “just really got into prayer for a little bit there.”

“Ah, I can understand that.” Josh nodded, running his thumb softly across your cheek a few times before pulling his hand away and moving to kneel next to you.

“Mind if I join you? I feel like I have a lot of repenting to do lately.” He peeked over at you as if to gauge her reaction, but was only met with your wide eyes staring at the floor in front of you.

“Angel?” He reached his right hand to settle on the middle of your left thigh, keeping his touch light to simply grab your attention again.

“Uh-yes, yeah of course. Everyone is welcome in His house, right?” You let out a nervous chuckle and finally looked him in the eye, swallowing thickly when you realized that he never pulled his hand away from your leg.

The two of you remained kneeling next to each other on the scratchy, carpeted step, maintaining eye contact until you cleared your throat and bowed your head forward. Eyes now closed again and hands placed on either side of your legs, you once more asked for forgiveness for what you wanted to do to the man on his knees next to you. Focusing on repeating the words in your head got harder and harder once you felt Josh’s fingers twitch slightly to lightly squeeze your thigh. With your eyes shut, you couldn’t see the smirk that rested on his lips as he mirrored your posture and also bowed his own head to pray.

Minutes passed, yet his hand still burned through the material of your jeans, both of you sitting silently. Josh couldn’t stand the stagnant nature of the room anymore, the stillness killing him as his own mind ran a million miles a minute. It seemed that sinful thoughts were flooding his mind faster than he could pray them away. Almost without conscious permission, the hand that rested on your leg began rubbing up and down your thigh, his fingertips dancing along the seam of your pants. He could hear your breathing become slightly more labored and could practically feel your heart racing through the palm of his hand.

“Is this…okay?” He questioned with wavering confidence.

You knew it wasn’t right and shouldn’t be happening here of all places, yet you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering out a quiet “yes.” There was no going back now, you knew that. The wetness between your legs both mocked and encouraged your desire.

Your eyes were barely open for a few seconds before they were squeezed shut again and a pair of the softest lips you’d ever felt met your own. You couldn’t say you expected things to exactly progress slowly once the first kiss finally broke the tension that had been building for the past two weeks, but the speed at which Josh’s hand crept up to cup your clothed core still pulled the breath from your lungs.

His hands found your hips and pulled you to straddle his lap as he rolled back to properly sit on the step that you once innocently knelt upon. Your hands ran over the shaved sides of his hair, fingers catching his curls and giving them a tug to tilt his head back and leave Josh looking up at you.

The flickering flames of the candles still burning strong on the altar just a few feet away caught in your eye as he stared at you, wide-eyed, as if it was the first time he was really seeing you. For a moment, you simply sat staring at one another, taking in the moment. However, a beat later your hips began tilting forward and back while you sat lower to apply more pressure to Josh’s lap.

He groaned and let his eyes slip closed as your breathing picked up and you found yourself grinding down on Josh’s hardened length faster and faster just to hear another beautiful whine or whimper pass through his lips. Josh snapped back into himself after a particularly rough tug on his hair, causing his head to raise once again and his lips meet yours in a feverish kiss. His tongue battled yours once you finally let him in, bringing both hands to the back of your head to allow him some leverage.

You didn’t want to give away just how much Josh affected you so quickly, but once one of his hands left your head to crack down against the thickest part of your ass experimentally, you couldn’t fight the moan that ripped through your chest. You could feel Josh smirk at your reaction, getting exactly what he wanted from you in that moment. To get him back for making you slip so fast, the next time he brought his tongue to meet yours, you wrapped your lips around it and sucked lightly while giving the tip a few small licks.

The moment was over before you could complete the action as Josh quickly grabbed your hips tightly again to pull your body off of his and leave you kneeling while he stood. The sound of Josh’s sweatpants being pulled down his legs and haphazardly thrown behind him accompanied a both satisfied and impressed hum from you.

His cock stood at attention in front of your face, so close that you could press a soft kiss to the leaking tip if you leaned forward ever so slightly. Your gaze was broken when Josh brought a hand down to wrap around his length, giving it a few pumps as every muscle in his torso seemed to contract with the sudden contact.

“Go on, angel, give it a kiss. Be sweet for me.” Josh broke the silence in a hushed tone, running his unoccupied hand over the side of your hair to push some of it behind your shoulder.

You took a moment to admire how beautiful he looked like this, standing before you with a needy confidence. Quickly, your own confidence was replaced with a wave of nervousness and the shame that always came with any intimate situation you had found yourself in prior to this.

“Hey,” Josh said gently, grabbing your attention, “we don’t have to do this. We can go grab some hot chocolate or something and pretend it never happened.”

You smiled slightly at the innocent nature of the suggestion in contrast to the image right in front of you.

“No,” you whispered out, “I want this. I want you, Josh. Fully.”

His eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort and, when none could be found, he smirked once more and gave himself a few more pumps before he felt your hands find the back of his thighs as you slowly leaned forward.

You pressed light kisses around the base of his cock, taking a moment before gathering the courage to finally flatten your tongue against the underside of his length and trail it up to his tip. Right away you realized how dry your mouth felt, nerves getting the best of you. He noticed the hesitation and cupped your jaw, encouraging you to meet his eyes.

“Need some help?” The question seemed innocent enough but given the circumstances, you weren’t sure what answer he was looking for.

“Open.” He nudged your jaw with his thumb as you opened your mouth for him, maintaining eye contact through your bare lashes. He gave you a small, almost mocking, smile and stroked your cheek before bending forward slightly and spitting directly into your open mouth.

“Now try again, angel.” His hand found the back of your head and guided you to your previous position, intently watching as your lips met the tip of his cock once again. He let his head fall back and a soft moan escape from deep within his chest, finding it harder to keep quiet the closer he got to the back of your throat.

Keeping his hand tangled in your hair as a means of grounding himself, he bucked his hips forward involuntarily as you bobbed up and down his length, varying the pressure you applied with your lips. Your nails dug into the backs of his thighs, leaving a welcomed sting to his skin and crescent-shaped reminders of how heavenly it felt to have his cock in your mouth.

Josh could feel himself crawling toward his edge faster than he’d anticipated and knew he needed to stop you before he ruined the chance to do everything he wanted to do with you. Reluctantly, he brought both hands to cup your jaw and led your head back, where a flash of disappointment on your face almost brought another moan to escape his lips.

Without a word, his left hand glided across your face, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear innocently and admiring how pretty you looked with your eyes glazed over and a rosy tint covering your cheeks. Your lips fell into an involuntary pout as Josh ran his thumb over your top lip, then your bottom, coaxing your jaw open once more and slipping the finger into your mouth. Closing your lips tightly, you let your tongue drag across his thumb painfully slowly, watching as his confident demeanor faltered slightly.

When he had enough, he hooked his thumb on your bottom row of teeth to force your jaw down and release him, pulling his thumb out of your mouth and dragging it across your swollen bottom lip, leaving a sheen of your own saliva across the burning skin of your cheek.

“I knew those lips could do more than just pray, baby.” His smirk was intensified by the flames of the red candles burning on the altar, making him look anything but holy.

As if you weren’t blushed enough, his words brought even more blood rushing to your cheeks. You looked down, hands in your lap, almost embarrassed by the praise of your performance thus far. You were brought back out of your own head when you felt the bottom of your shirt being lifted as Josh bent at the hips to grasp the material, his face now centimeters from yours.

He took advantage of the position and pressed a soft, almost innocent, kiss to your neck before tugging the shirt off further. As if somehow holding you back, you could feel the bashfulness you once felt about what you were doing leaving your body when your shirt was carelessly tossed to the side and your chest was left exposed.

The new surge of confidence made you look Josh directly in the eye, your right index finger dragging up and down the length of his bare leg.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Josh?” You questioned, lulling your head to the side.

A noise that could only be described as a growl rumbled from deep within his chest and before you knew it, you were lifted to your feet by your armpits and led down the few steps to the first row of pews. A gasp escaped you when you was spun around and pushed towards the maroon velvet pad that covered the seat of the pew. You found yourself thankful that Josh decided to show some kind of mercy and not fuck you into the scratchy rug covering the floor.

Your knees met the soft cushion and you climbed up on all fours, only catching glimpses of Josh quickly pulling his own shirt over his head before making quick work of reaching around to unfasten your jeans and slide them down your legs, taking your panties with them.

With how fast he was moving to get into position, you expected to feel him pushing into you within a few seconds...but felt nothing.Worried that he may be regretting everything leading up to this moment, you turned her head around to see Josh on his knees behind you, shamelessly letting his eyes travel the length of your spine to your ass. He bit his lip and shook his head side to side slightly, not able to believe that this was all for him. You wanted him.

“Okay, okay.” He whispered to himself, shuffling closer to your body and running his hands up your back across her shoulder blades, your skin burning at his touch.

“You’re sure this is okay? Seriously, we can stop and just go-”

“Josh, I’m sure that I want this.” Your eyes met his and he almost fell off the pew at the sight of your glossy lips and rounded eyes staring back at him.

“Please…” you breathed out, shifting your hips side to side ever so slightly and rolling your head downward to face away from him.

He mumbled something to himself before dragging his hand down your back once more, grabbing at your hip when his fingers met the flesh and moving closer until you could feel the head of his cock just barely grazing your core. The breath left your lungs when he caught your sensitive clit that had been begging for friction and you had to remind yourself to let oxygen in again when you started getting lightheaded.

Josh’s knuckles grazed your bare ass as he dragged his cock between your folds, gathering enough of your slick to begin pushing into you little by little before pulling completely out again. He loved being a tease, at this point you fully knew that, but in this moment you just wanted all of him. A whine escaped your throat and you could hear him chuckle at your impatience.

“I know, baby, I’m getting there. You really think I’m not going to take care of my angel?”

His voice helped put you at ease, and the feeling of his length slowly filling you up again, but now going further to bottom out inside of you, left your muscles completely relaxed. He gave you a few seconds to stretch and adjust to the size of him before slowly rocking his hips, a sensation you’ve never quite experienced in its entirety radiating through your body.

Each set of thrusts into you felt like there was more speed and force behind them than the previous until Josh’s hips snapped forward with such strength that you lowered onto your forearms, leaving your ass up for him. Your whines, accompanied by the sound of skin slapping against skin, echoed against the wood-paneled room just as hymns had only an hour or two prior. Josh wasn’t completely silent, though. He hummed and whispered out an occasional “fuck” or “so good for me” every now and then when the angle seemed to affect him more than before.

Wanting to hear you louder, he suddenly reached down to throw one of his arms across your chest, pulling you up on your knees so that your back pressed against his damp chest. His pace remained merciless as he held you there, his pants leaving his hot breath to fan against your face. You didn’t even think about where Josh’s other hand was until you felt a surge of electricity run through you when his fingers began toying with your deprived clit, expertly circling around the bundle of nerves.

Unable to spare the energy to hold your head up any more, you let it fall back onto Josh’s left shoulder, your right arm coming up to wrap around his neck lazily and provide more support. Your moans got louder with an increase in speed and pressure from his fingers until you felt your orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could process. Josh picked up on it immediately as you shifted your hips to sloppily meet his.

“You want me to send you up into the clouds? Hm? Does my pretty angel want to meet god?” His words barely registered as he held your head close to his mouth to whisper directly into your ear.

A weak nod was all you could give him in response, surrendering complete control of your body to the man holding you up in his arms. As your orgasm washed over you, your legs shook and your body tried to fold forward to find comfort in the plush velvet you still kneeled on, but Josh held strong and pulled you impossibly closer. The necklace he wore every day pressed so deeply into your skin, you could feel the cross pendant burning your skin to create a defined outline on your back. His pace slowed as he felt your walls fluttering around him, coaxing his own end.

When you opened your eyes again, Josh leaned his chin against your shoulder and pressed a wet kiss to your neck, moving your body in his arm to lay your back against the maroon fabric on the pew.

“Want to see that pretty face when I cum.” He whispered out, kneeling between your legs and taking in your naked body that laid on display in front of him. Bringing a hand over to brush against your cheek, you lightly grabbed his hand and kissed his open palm reassuringly.

You hummed in response, almost letting a small smile spread across your face until Josh surprised you by slipping his cock back inside of you, bottoming out without hesitation. He returned to the merciless pace that he kept just a few moments ago and he fought to keep his eyes from fluttering closed, allowing his hands to explore the expanse of your torso.

Josh grabbed your legs to bend your knees and push them towards your chest, allowing him to reach deeper inside you than you thought possible. His sloppy thrusts held no rhythm as his now quickened breath was accompanied with a small whimper every time his hips snapped forward.

“Come on, baby…” You breathed out, not wanting to disturb the little piece of heaven you and Josh shared by raising your voice any louder. Your hand lifted from its place on his arm to his pink-tinted, burning cheek to softly push some of the hair that clung to his forehead back into place.

Your words combined with the sensation of you squeezing around his sensitive cock pushed him over the edge and he quickly pulled out of you just in time for his hot spurts of cum to paint your stomach. He helped you lower your feet to meet the cushion of the seat on either side of him, but remained kneeling between your legs, head bowed as he caught his breath. Allowing your eyes to slip closed, you focused on your own breathing and the feeling of Josh’s fingertips pressing varying amounts of pressure into the skin of your hips.

Josh leaned backwards to retrieve any article of clothing he could from the floor that was within arms reach, which happened to be his shirt, and wiped his release from your stomach. It was a moment so sweet and tender, you almost forgot what the two of you had just done together…in the camp chapel, no less.

“So, I’m thinking…” Josh started, tossing his shirt to the side once again and pulling you up by your arms to face him. “Maybe we can get cleaned up and then you can let me make you that hot chocolate I suggested earlier?”

And there he was. The Josh you knew and loved was back. Your Josh.

His sentiment caught you off guard and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You haven’t stopped thinking about that damn hot cocoa since you mentioned it, have you?”

He raised both hands at the accusation, an offended look now overtaking his face.

“I may have gotten a little distracted once I got here, angel, but why do you think I came looking for you in the first place?”

“You’re ridiculous.” You cupped his face in your palms, admiring his still fucked-out features. “We better go before someone wonders why these candles are still lit and comes to put them out, though.”

He looked over at the altar, as if he forgot where he even was.

“I mean…maybe we should pray for what we just did…” Josh looked at you with such a serious expression, you could feel your stomach drop.

“Kidding, I’m kidding! Come on, angel, hot cocoa is calling your name!”

With a laugh, he untangled himself from you and began collecting your clothes off the floor, tossing them towards you while he double checked that there was no trace of you two being left behind.

Now dressed and about to put your hand in his outstretched palm, you remembered the candles, somehow still glowing red. You shuffled up to the altar, looking up at the giant wooden cross presiding over the empty pews of the chapel. Quickly blowing each candle out with a puff of air, you were left in complete darkness, following Josh’s voice as he beckoned you towards him.

Taglist: @ashole-x @earthlysorrows

[thegirlattherockshoow]

The Mormon Church

The church shouldn't make you hate yourself. The church shouldn't make you feel guilty for not feeling guilty. You shouldn't tell little girls they're chewed pieces of gum. You shouldn't take children's money to pay your bills. You shouldn't require to take the poor’s money to build a shopping mall they will never afford to shop at. You shouldn't have to pay 10% to get into the temple. You shouldn't put my caffeine intake over my education. You shouldn't make me feel ashamed and not apart of the group because my mother left my abusive father. I should have been encouraged to focus on my happiness instead of my need to find a husband. I should have been crying from the breakup not because no worthy man would marry someone so tainted. You shouldn't hold teenage hormones to a higher standard than your prophet. A man who married children. Joseph Smith was in his 30s secretly married to teenagers. And their sisters. And even one of their mothers. Joseph Smith was married to a 14 year old less than 200 years ago, in a time where it was illegal and not “of it's time.” Joseph was a pedophile and he founded a church that made me want to kill myself for touching the private parts of my same aged boyfriends. Why was I trusted to be locked in a room with a grown man at the age of 7? I was horrified. I can't remember any other time in my life I was alone with a man besides in this room. I didn't have a father, this wasn't normal for me. I was so intimidated. I was terrified he would say something mean. I was scared I wouldn't know all the answers and would have to tell everyone I wasn't worthy. I was a month shy of my 8th birthday and had to make a life changing decision. One I wouldn't fully understand until I'm 22. If I chose wrong I would not only disappoint everyone around me, but would spend eternity in Hell. I shouldn't have told grown men details of my sex life. Details I wouldn't even tell my closest friends. L stopped me in the hall and said X had just started his mission process so he knew what had happened and because of that I shouldn't be expecting to go on the upcoming temple trip. He said he was free for the next half hour if I wanted to start my repentance. I was 17, caught off guard by the man who determined my worthiness in the eyes of God, and he already knew my secrets. I was mortified. I had already been shamed by my ex and now I was being asked the details by my YW president's husband. I felt like I had a giant A on my chest every time I stepped into that building. He got praised for going on a mission while I tried to hide that I wasn't taking sacrament. Everyone came to hear his farewell while I sat outside holding baby Andrew trying not to fall apart at the all the toxic memories that his voice brought back. I got in the car with him after church because that’s what good Mormon girls do, make men's lives happy. I was depressed, my schedule always busy and they wanted me to start my day at 4:45am. I hated it. I stopped going. I couldn't do it. T shunned me. A 40 year old man stood in front of a class of my peers, in front of my sister, and called me an apostate that would fall away from God in misery. A 40 year old man who was called to show me God's ways, would completely ignored me for 3 years. This man is the current Bishop who had an affair and told the woman she could be one of his wives in heaven. The church told him this is ok. The church shouldn't have a modern day purgatory, but they do. It's called Rexburg Idaho. My mother is a convert. My mother trusted and respected us. I didn't have rules or a keeper until I went to college. I didn't feel embarrassed about my single mother until I went to the Lord's school. My roommate said I was damned to hell because my parents were divorced. She accused me of stealing her prescription because I was from a “broken home.” I was invited on dates with her and her  boyfriend so I could see what a healthy relationship looked like. She reported me because I offended her by kissing a boy on our couch who I wasn't planning on dating. She sat on my bed in tears because I chose not to go to church when I had the stomach flu and she couldn't feel the spirit. Then she called the RS president because she didn't think I was worthy to be there. My last semester ended with me in counseling. The church shouldn't put other students in charge of your education, but they do. The church shouldn't abandon you in your time of need, but they did. They kicked me out of the Lord's school because of a string of lies that started over a boy I had nothing to do with. They told me “the people are not the gospel” but that gospel is the thing that encouraged this. It literally wrote the rule book. I thought I found the man I was going to marry so I made him happy. That's what I was taught. I knew we weren't going to be married in the temple because he wasn't a member and since I would be his wife one day, what's the point of waiting? That's what I told myself after the night we got drunk on his brothers vodka and he ignored the terrified look on my face. Almost every other time he would have to talk me into it because I still wasn't comfortable with what was going on. I'm not mad at him, I could have been more persistent, even though he wasn't a priesthood holder he was still a man. And the church taught me I was here to make him happy. So I did. Until he left me. He left me in a church that now saw me as a chewed up piece of gum. A church that put my eternal worth on my virginity and that was gone. I cried for days. Then I realized I wasn’t crying because he had broken my heart, I was crying because no one would marry me now. I cried because I would have to tell every little embarrassing detail to Bishop F. A man who had been a close family friend since we joined the church when I was 4. A man I trusted and had inside jokes with. A man I was terrified to tell my secrets to because I didn't want to disappoint him. But I did. And our whole relationship changed. He ignored me. Another man called of God, ignored me like a child because I disappointed him. The church told me the people aren't the gospel, but the gospel told him I was a black hole. The church was supposed to make me happy, but it wasn't. The church told me the only way to be happy was to be Mormon. So I moved to Utah. F never met with me after that first meeting so my repentance process tagged along with me. Which meant I had to go through the whole embarrassing process again. This time with a stranger. The church shouldn't force young girls into closed rooms with men they don't know to talk about their sex life. The church shouldn't ask how many times I climaxed with and without birth control. The church shouldn't ask if I enjoyed oral. But they did. They asked an intimidated 20 year old these things behind a closed door with a man she had never met before. The church told me I was finally worthy of the temple again, but then I met my soulmate who reintroduced me to the Devil's Flower and my recommend went up in smoke. Konnor casually started to show me where my tithing money went. I was livid. The church was supposed to help the poor, instead they bought news stations and built multi billion dollar shopping malls. Things started to fall apart and before I knew it, November 12, 2015 shattered my world. Up until this point I had put aside my differences with the church, but this was the last straw. The church said to love one another, until a child with gay parents wants to get baptized. Then he has to wait until legal age and then tell his parents he doesn't support their love. That's not the God I believe in. My shelf was barely holding together and in one announcement crumbled to pieces. The church said I would be miserable after I denounced the church, but I'm not. I finally know what it was like to live my life without guilt. Which gave me the courage to accept the CES Letter. The Church said it was true and couldn't be proven wrong. But it wasn't. And it was.

[mysteriouslyzealouspandalov-blog]

The Respectful Relationships Program Could Start by Respecting Parents.

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The Respectful Relationships Program Could Start by Respecting Parents.

It would seem that the only relationship that isn’t respected by those rolling out the Trojan horse program Respectful Relationships into our schools, is the relationship between parents and their own children.

Once Christmas ends, the first billboards from Officeworks are up, reminding parents that it’s back to school in only four weeks time!  Four weeks?  Seems like four months!

And parents are responsible for everything when the lists come out.  Uniforms, shoes, books, iPads.  Helping their older children determine what courses they should do.  Parents need to be informed about everything if they’re going to help their children.

Everything except when it comes to sex in the classroom, or the teaching of it, it would appear.

For the State Government of Western Australia, led by Premier Mark McGowan, has given the green light for nineteen schools to utilise various aspects of the Respectful Relationships program, all without any parental consultation.

It’s the same program that the far more (self-declared) progressive Victorian Andrews Government has been promoting in that state’s schools already.  And more schools are to follow in Western Australia in semester two of 2019.

Yet all of this has begun without the involvement of the most crucial relationship in the mix, in terms of schooling, the one between parents and children.

McGowan is staying mum (can I even say that?) on which schools, and which aspects of the program are being rolled out.  Which seems curious when there have been such controversies around the blatantly sexualised nature of the content being delivered through such programs, all in the name of respect, I might add (whatever that term means these days).

You would think the Premier, who, I’m led to believe, does not send his own children to a government school, much less one where this program is going to be taught, would seek to include all stakeholders when it comes to material that has such a blatant sexual and gender ideologies inbuilt, if not simply to allay any fears.

After all, such lack of foresight has blown up in the faces of other state governments in the past couple of years, with dubious links to dodgy sites being discovered, and a clear hard Sexular Culture agenda attached to seemingly innocent material being shown up for what it is.

But the quieter the government is about it, the more questions, and concerns it will raise.  So how about it Premier McGowan?  How about some conversations with all stakeholders when it comes to education?.

The stated aim of the Respectful Relationships program is lofty of course.  The stated aims of such programs always are.  It’s about breaking the pattern of domestic violence, and who could be against that after all?

Yet what does the Respectful Relationships program focus on? Here’s how local media in Perth reported the move to challenge “gender inequality”:

A business case for the program states that violence against women was partly driven by “beliefs and behaviours that reflect disrespect for women, low support for gender equality and adherence to rigid or stereotypical gender roles”.

The Education Department memo on the program stated:

“By challenging these drivers, we can break the cycle of violence,”

“Partly” is an interesting word isn’t it?  Does “partly” mean 10 percent of violence towards women is attributable to stereotypical gender roles?  15 percent?  80 percent?  And what are the other drivers? What percentage do they make up? We shall never know.  When you’ve got an agenda, actual stats are not always that helpful.

And it’s completely ideological agenda purporting, much in the way the discredited Safe Schools program did, to be about safety first and foremost.  And in this culture of all things safe, and bulldozer parenting, what’s not to like about safe?

Unfortunately domestic violence comes in all shapes and sizes and affects all sorts of families. My wife, with twenty years clinical psychological experience, has seen more than her fair share of cases.  It’s traumatic, tragic and crosses all social boundaries.

And all sexual boundaries. For the sneaky, unreported, and underreported, truth, though reported to me by a former gay activist is that domestic violence among male gay partners is off the charts.  In fact statistically, the percentage of domestic violence among gay couples is higher in heterosexual relationships, as this 2014 BBC report reveals.

Nothing particularly stereotypical about that.

Now it’s got to be said that the government has not yet decided which parts of the program are going to be utilised.  Indeed the details are buried within a state government report.  But the Year 3 material includes the following:

Provide a range of dress ups and toys to allow children to explore different roles and ethnic dress; put up pictures of women and men taking on different household tasks and gender roles in a range of ethnic groups. Read books that open up the possibilities about what girls and boys can be or do.

You can read the full report by Joshua Zimmerman here.

Let’s get it straight. A man doesn’t beat a woman – the women he lives with – because he is the primary bread winner in a traditional family who likes manly pursuits, wears checked shirts and jeans and boots, and doesn’t do enough work around the house, but will, after enough whinging, at least put the bins out on Wednesday night.

A man beats a woman because he’s a bully who likes power and desires to dominate someone, and he gets some sort of emotional release from his own fractured psyche through using his unrestrained anger to crush a readily available person within arm – and fist’s – reach.

And quite frankly it’s an insult to the thousands of working dads (and mums) who, in Perth, do live traditional roles in their marriages, yet who never lift a finger to their spouses, gay, straight or other.

And on the flipside.  My wife went to work today, to a meaningful, fairly well paid job that has a high level of job satisfaction.

And me? I cooked the breakfast (it was a cooked breakfast), vacuumed the house, put out the rubbish, did the washing, went and did some of the grocery shopping. Oh and all with enough time left over to slap her around the face before waving her goodbye as she drove off.

Of course I did all of the above, except for that last part.

But here’s the point: In an irony of cruel ironies, there are many celebrated cases coming to the surface of domestic violence and sexual abuse among the most “woke” of our day who champion the breaking of those so called stereotypes, both within the church and without.

I could provide a long list, but let’s start with the Bill Hybels case from Willow Creek – a church at the forefront of breaking down gender barriers -, yet sexual control was at its epicentre.

And then there’s the even more dismal case, of New York’s Attorney General, Eric Schneiderman, who proved, despite being a long term voice against sexual misconduct, not to be your friendly neighbourhood Schneiderman at all.

Schneiderman, a vocal opponent against Harvey Weinstein, was outed himself as an abusive sexual bully who pre-determined that his string of girlfriends liked to be punched and slapped, without him being polite enough to ask their permission to bruise their faces prior to indulging himself.

Which is not to say violence against women is not happening in traditional settings, for it surely is.  But it is to say that is is completely simplistic, and insulting, to equate domestic violence with traditional gender roles.

Perhaps the WA Government, indeed perhaps the Premier himself, would like to address this matter across the more traditional migrant communities – and religious communities – in Perth and admit it is far more complex than the material purports.

But let me go on. The Year 9 material includes the following:

Write a range of the following words on the whiteboard: Massage; Cuddling; Kissing; Sexting; Holding hands; Vaginal intercourse; Oral sex; Masturbation; Touching genitals; Rubbing nipples; Anal sex; Pornography. Have students form small groups and categorise each into either “sex” or “not sex”.

“Excuse me miss, will this be in the exam?”

For a start, this completely misreads how conversations around these topics operate in a less than safe setting such as a school.  For whoever determined that schools were safe? Such material completely negates the reality of the classroom, in which many students do not trust those within their own peer group with that sort of conversation, never mind their teachers.

So the young, late developing fifteen year old boy, who is shy and reserved, has to determine with the class jock, who already boasts about the blow jobs he’s had from girls in the school, whether or not oral sex is actually sex?  Where’s the safety or respect in any of that?

And then it goes on:

Discuss with students the different types of sexual relationships, such as “going out together”, “hooking up”, “bootie call”, “friends with benefits” and “one night stand”. Have students write down an estimate of what percentage of their peer group they think have experienced some form of sex.

That’s a seriously impressive list of sexual relationships right there, although it admittedly does miss out on that rather minor sexual relationship that’s been doing the rounds in our culture for some time; marriage.

But I guess if you’re the stats girl in the class you might enjoy compiling that information as a percentage list, if you can brush off the catcalls from the class tool to put actual names beside each of them.

All this is to say two things: On what planet are teachers, who are not trained sex counsellors or psychologists, any better placed to led these conversations than parents?  Not saying those are easy conversations to have as parents, but at which point do teachers assume the role of primary sexual overseer of students?

There’s something “woke” about our Education Departments these days, filled as they are with high level Boomers whose own sexual freedoms back in the sixties and seventies led us to exactly the toxic place we are today.  They seem almost grimly determined to ensure that the next couple of generations are as screwed up as they were.

Once again it simply proves that progressive ideologies and governments either despise  – or ignore – mediating institutions such as families.  Rusty Reno, in his book Resurrecting the Idea of a Christian Society, points out that progressive statism constantly seeks ways to infiltrate and subvert the “mini-governments” in our culture that keep statism at bay; “mini-governments” such as family units and religious communities.

And in a year in which we’re going to see a double pressure on such mini-governments by the overreaching statist big-government. First there is the pressure of such programs being rolled out at a state level that will circumvent parental acquiescence, and secondly, there is the pressure of a likely incoming federal Labor government in Australia that is almost gleeful in its desire clamp down on religious educational institutions in terms what sexual ethics are permissible among their faith communities.

Above all else, statism reverses the relationship between governments and their people.  The government is to be held accountable to the people, not the other way around. Big government loves to first loosen, and then reverse, the accountability structure.

Big government determines that stakeholders – such as parents or other groups of voters – would, if let loose, be uncontrollable, violence-inducing, uneducated types who don’t know better, and who need to be circumvented if any progress is to be made.  Yet the sad fact is, in this country and throughout the West at the moment, the reality is the other way around.

It’s time for our governments to start showing some respect themselves.

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The Respectful Relationships Program Could Start by Respecting Parents.