![]() ![]() (MF, inc, drugs)Ī1 Chloe and Zoe - by Chloe - Starts out as to naughty girls (you chose their age), and the story has two endings that you choose from, a non-consensual rape ending or a science-fictional with Wild West ending. (mf-teens, youths, exh, inc, 1st, mast, preg)ħ0's Summer With Mom - by Dutchman - A young man initiates his mother into pot-smoking, then incest. (mm-teens, 1st-gay-expr, inc, rom)Ģ9-Year-Old Grandfather - by Alex Hawk - How can someone be a grandfather at twenty-nine? Much more easily than you might think! Check this story for details. A hesitant pressurised yes, is not a yes, nor is an unresponsive subject a yes.The Kristen Archives - Just Incestuous Stories A-CĢ-D - by Alex Hawk - A pair of brothers visit the Virgin Islands and find out they like looking at the scenery there less than they like looking at each other. ![]() We as Irish people need to realise that the issue of consent, while being incredibly complex, is also undeniably simple, yes or no, and simple as. I would hope that I could discuss issues with my friends like how difficult I find curling my hair or the amount of money I spend in Penney’s and for them to say ‘Oh my god, me too.’ Not to say I was a victim of non-consensual act of sexual intercourse and have them chime the same response. The issue is consent is not only a grey area in Irish law, but a grey area in Irish mind set. It follows me everywhere I go and has removed pretty much any small hint of faith I had in Ireland’s education on consent and the amount of information available to the people of Ireland. I messaged this boy and asked him what had happened, to which I received a shockingly innocent, ‘oh yeah we did, you were so drunk though’.Ī real case of what happens on a night out, stays on a night out.īut that’s the thing, it doesn’t. I didn’t want to do anything, I just wanted to pretend it never happened, but for fear of pregnancy or worse my friends eventually convinced me to say something. But I couldn’t remember a thing so I had tried to forget about it until I was told this. I was sore and my period was in no way due. I had woken up that morning covered in blood and very afraid. Or maybe I did, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not to tell them, but to ask them, because I still didn’t know. ![]() It was months before I even found the courage to ask someone if what happened was wrong. My companion woke chirpy as ever and we had a conversation about lectures as if nothing had ever happened. I remember waking up the next morning and just feeling really sad. So, I lay there like a doll, unmoving, and let him work away. He said that was unfair because I’d shifted him on a few nights out now and I shouldn’t do that. I remember lying there saying I didn’t really want to, making any sort of excuse I could think of not to engage in sexual intercourse. Looking back now it seems so ridiculous but I honestly believed I was in the wrong. That is how I had been nurtured, in a school and college environment where a low top says you’re asking for it, and a bit of fake tan basically puts you on a street corner there and then. When it first happened to me, I found myself naturally defending the boy in question, after all I had gone home with him - so what exactly did I expect? ![]()
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