Alexey Sakhnin about why poor women vote for rich men. Transgender Eva-Alexey - the story of a boy-girl who moved to Krasnodar from the Far East Forced feminization with removal of eggs stories
I grew up as a modest, quiet boy, studied well at school, but at the same time, due to my character, I was considered a “black sheep” in the class, and was subjected to various ridicule and humiliation from my classmates. I was under the strong care of my mother, she cherished and cared for me too much. She bought all the clothes that I wore for me herself; I was not independent in choosing clothes; whatever my mother bought, that’s what I wore. And the mother's choice often differed from normal clothes suitable for a boy. I usually wore ridiculous sweaters, ugly trousers, my clothes were too similar to the clothes of “nerds” and were not at all fashionable. It seemed a little girly even to me.
Maybe that’s also why I was the laughing stock of the class.
When I turned 14, I suddenly noticed a pack of tights appearing in my closet. Mom always put in my closet only my clothes, either old or new, that she bought for me, but exclusively my clothes. Therefore, the appearance of my mother’s tights in the closet at first seemed strange to me.
I asked my mother why she gave me tights. Mom, it seemed to me, was even outraged by my question.
- I bought you tights, what’s strange? - she said.
- But this is tights! - I answered.
What difference does it make to you whether they are women's or not? You will wear them under trousers, instead of tights, so as not to freeze in the cold.
Frankly, the last time I wore tights was only when I went to kindergarten and later this non-male clothing left my wardrobe, like all boys. Wearing tights is the prerogative of girls. And now, thanks to my mother, tights appear in my wardrobe again. These were thick nylon tights, approximately 50 denier, black. I began to constantly wear them to school under my trousers, as my mother ordered.
At first it was awkward to wear tights, I felt somehow girly while wearing tights. But then I got used to it. It seemed like no one at school noticed what I was wearing under my trousers. Although when I sat, the trousers rose slightly and at the very bottom of my legs I could see the tights. Yes, by the way, many girls in our class at that age wore tights, and looking at them, I understood them. The only difference was that they exposed their legs by wearing skirts, and I wore trousers.
Gradually, new packages of tights began to appear in my closet. Mom began actively buying them for me, even though I had not yet torn my old tights. I just now have tights of different colors. In addition to the black ones, my mother bought white and pink ones. The colors are frankly girly, and the tights themselves had patterns and lace. But nothing can be done, I had to wear them.
After about 2 months, I got so used to tights that it became almost natural for me to wear them. And then one day I opened my closet and found white women’s trousers with lace. At first the sight of them made me smile; I decided that my mother had thrown them to me by mistake. But when I asked my mother what the pantaloons were doing in my closet, she said that she bought them for me.
In winter you need to take care of keeping your feet warm, and that’s why I bought you tights. But you also need to take care of the warmth of the upper legs and genitals, so now I also bought you pantaloons. They retain heat well. And women's - because there are no others.
- But other boys don’t wear women’s pantaloons! - I objected.
But I don’t care what others wear, so let them freeze! And my son will wear what I say!
It was useless to argue and the next day I came to school dressed in tights and women's pantaloons, under the bottom of my trousers. Naturally, no one could notice this, but nevertheless, at first I felt extremely awkward... It’s good at least I didn’t have to go to physical education, since I had an exemption, due to problems with my physical weakness, and therefore I didn’t have to change clothes in plain sight. Yes, I was weak as a girl, if someone tried to attack me at school, I could not defend myself and usually cried if they hit me too painfully.
After some time, my mother bought me another girlish thing. It was a transparent nightie, with lace at the chest and along the edges of the nightie. Naturally, before putting it on, I asked my mother why she bought me a nightie for girls. Mom replied:
- It's beautiful! It will be very comfortable to sleep in it. Not like in your ridiculous boyish T-shirt.
- Well, these are girl's clothes!
So what? You've been wearing girls' tights and knickers for a long time. So why are you resisting the nightie? It will be very comfortable to sleep in it. You try it and then tell me whether you like it or not.
Thus, my mother persuaded me to try it. I put on a white nightie immediately before getting into bed, having first taken off my T-shirt. Mom was present at this and made sure that I dressed her.
- That's all, and you were afraid. Sleep, my little one! - Mom said and kissed me on the cheek. Yes, despite being 14 years old, my mother allowed such tenderness with me and treated me like a little child.
Yes, I must admit, it was nice to sleep in the nightie. In a nightie you feel pampered and weak like a girl, you want to plunge into sweet dreams. Thus, the girl’s nightie from that moment became my usual sleepwear.
In the morning, I naturally took it off and dressed for school as usual.
But if my mother said that she buys me girl’s underwear because it protects me from the cold, then with the onset of spring, logically, I should stop wearing it. And now, finally, spring has come and I hoped that now there would be no tights or pantaloons - just trousers on bare legs and it wouldn’t be cold.
But it was not there! With the weather warming up, I found a new pair of tights in my closet. After unwrapping the package, I decided to try them on. These were very thin 20 den tights, the kind that girls wear in the warm season. I came to my mother to find out what they were for:
- Mom, why did you buy me thin tights? They do not protect against heat, and do not provide any effect other than “for beauty.”
“Because spring is coming and all the girls start wearing thin tights, so I bought them for you...” said mom.
- But I’m not a girl!
Who cares? I see that you want to wear girlish clothes! That's why I bought you spring tights.
How my mother found out that I wanted to wear girlish clothes, I didn’t know. In some ways she was indeed right. One part of me wanted to wear girlish clothes, experiencing some kind of pleasure and secret passion from it, and the other part of me resisted and urged me to be a normal boy and throw all these girly things out of my life.
But in the end, it was the girly part of my soul that won. I started wearing thin spring tights. In addition, my mother also bought me two pairs of real girl’s panties, which as a result completely replaced my men’s panties and I began to wear them all the time... But it was even more humiliating to one day see a women’s bra of size 1 in my closet. Mom almost couldn’t clearly explain why I need a bra if I don’t have one. female breasts. But my mother very persistently forced me to wear a bra. Until I understood what was happening. After about two months, I noticed how my breasts began to swell and increase in size, acquiring completely unmasculine features. I had no idea why this was happening. Somewhere by September 1st, the beginning of a new one school year, my breasts grew to such a size that I already had to hide them from others. And the size 1 bra began to fit me perfectly. Naturally, this caused me great embarrassment and depression. I constantly asked my mother about what was happening to me, but my mother only gave me hints that I needed to gradually become a girl, this was for my own good.
At first, I had to wear very loose, wide sweaters to school to hide my big breasts. And this helped at first, although many already knew that something strange was happening to me. My voice and behavior began to look like a girl’s. And the bra that I wore under my jacket was once noticed by my classmates. This happened when I was sitting in class, and the boys sitting on the desk behind me noticed that my bra straps were showing through under my sweater. They jokingly grabbed my bra strap and I realized that my secret was revealed...
After that, all the boys started calling me “faggot” and even hitting me a little. This made me cry like a crybaby girl. I began to look for my salvation in the company of girls. Only girls could understand me a little, support me and accept me into their society, and not all girls.
After a couple of months, my breasts grew even larger, and now even a thick jacket did not help hide my breasts from others. And then one day my mother forbade me to wear this wide jacket, buying me a yellow tight girl’s blouse-shirt, instead of the previous rough men’s jacket. Having put on this jacket, the first thing I saw in the mirror were two tubercles protruding from under the jacket - my breasts stood out so clearly. I almost cried, imagining that I would have to go to school in this form. But there was nowhere to go, the next day at school I looked almost like a girl in this girlish tight jacket. There was a lot of ridicule at me, but I had to endure everything. It was hard at first, but then many people began to get used to the fact that I was half a boy, half a girl, and they didn’t bother me too much.
The teachers also treated me very negatively at first and even called my parents to school (more precisely, my mother, since my mother raised me alone, my father left us when I was a child). And my mother managed to assure the teachers that nothing bad was happening to me, she told the teachers that I had such a strange disease, because of which I was gradually turning into a girl, and she even managed to persuade them to treat me more attentively and politely.
Thus, gradually everyone’s attitude towards me softened, and after some time I became bolder and began to make my own cosmetics. In general, like all girls, I began to strive to look beautiful. Naturally, with the help of my mother - she bought me a cosmetic bag and taught me how to put on makeup. Now I started going to school only wearing beautiful makeup.
After some time I completely switched to women's clothing. I became bolder and started wearing a skirt, tights, high-heeled shoes, a blouse to school... In general, I was in full dress. And I also had my hair done beautifully at a women’s beauty salon.
This is how my girlhood life began. As I later learned, my mother secretly mixed female hormones into my food, thanks to which my breasts grew, my appearance feminized, and my voice changed. Mom did this because she thought it would be better for both her and me, she always dreamed that I was a girl, and it would be difficult for me to live in society with such weak character if I had remained a man.
Maybe she's right. At least now I have almost come to terms with the fact that I am now a girl and I see a lot of advantages in being a woman...
I liked it... In general, I like dressing up in girls' clothes.
Handkerchiefs and swaddling too - and they are in this story
Zhenya. Daughters and mothers.
On Wednesday evening, Zhenya and his mother visited Aunt Vera, my mother’s sister. While his mother and aunt were keeping secrets in the hall, he was playing with his older cousin in her room. Sasha was 5 years older than him and behaved almost like an adult. At the age of 12, she was a very reasonable girl who came up with a logical explanation for any game. Zhenya was a quiet, obedient boy, short, with luxuriant hair. He recently started first grade, and Sasha liked to play school with him. Zhenya didn’t mind, because instead of fives for correct answers, he received candy. It’s true that Sasha took away the candy for the wrong ones, but still Zhenya still won. Soon the children were called to dinner. Zhenya even shared the candy he earned with his mother and aunt. After tea, aunt and mother stayed in the kitchen to wash the dishes, and Sasha and Zhenya again ran to the nursery, where they began to build a “house” under Sasha’s desk. Zhenya persistently called him a halabuda. Sasha insisted that this was their little castle, and Zhenya was an enchanted prince who needed to be saved.
The women were talking, and the children were playing and did not notice how time for bed approached. Zhenya’s mother was getting ready to go home. Sasha and Zhenya played so hard that they didn’t want to leave, and Aunt Vera suggested that her sister let Zhenya spend the night with them.
- There is a place, there is a quarantine at school, Sasha is at home, and she is already big, she can feed Zhenya herself.
And tomorrow they say they will meet again after work and go home early.
- It’s already half past ten by the time you get there, and it’s time for the child to go to bed.
Mom asked Zhenya if he agreed to stay, and he, having broken down a little, said that he would like to sleep with Sasha. Mom kissed him goodbye and said that she would definitely come by after work.
After seeing her mother off, Zhenya suddenly felt somehow sad. But then the phone rang, Aunt Vera got distracted, and Sasha offered to play some more...
“That’s it, guys, it’s time to go to bed,” Aunt Vera hung up the phone, “it’s already eleven o’clock.”
Sasha had a large room, and in addition to a tiny bed, which folded out on the sides as Sasha grew older, there was a chair-bed in it. The wife was laid out on the bed, and Sasha, as the mistress, had to lie on the chair. Aunt Vera gave Zhenya Sasha’s old knitted pajamas; they were very pleasantly soft, although the legs were a little short. wished Good night and turned off the light.
The children did not fall asleep immediately. Sasha continued to tell Zhenya various almost scary stories for a long time.
Waking up in the morning, Zhenya saw that Sasha was no longer sleeping, but sitting at the table and enthusiastically drawing something. When he stood up and came closer, he saw that she was painting her nails with her mother's polish. The polish was pink and shiny. Having finished with her nails, Sasha began to persuade Zhenya to paint his nails too. He completely refused, but Sasha was very persistent, and, in the end, Zhenya agreed to the experiment. Sasha very carefully applied the varnish to Zhenya’s nails (she even stuck out her tongue from her zeal), and together they began to blow on the varnish so that it would dry faster. Sasha offered to paint her nails and toes, but Zhenya said that he wanted to go to the toilet and ran away from her in time.
At this time the bell rang and Sasha ran to open the door.
When Zhenya left the toilet, besides Sasha, there was another girl standing in the corridor. She was taller than Sasha, she wore clothes unlike her long hair, was wearing a jacket and holding a bag of bread and milk in her hands.
- Oh, what a sweet girl! Little sister? And what are our names? – she chattered.
- Yes, cousin...
- Why are we silent? What's our name?
“Zhenya,” Zhenya mumbled and ran into Sasha’s room.
- How shy we are.
Zhenya fell on the bed and covered his head with the blanket. He felt very ashamed. But then his girlfriends entered the room, and he hid and almost stopped breathing.
“Why are we still lying in bed, it’s time to get up,” the girls tried to rouse him.
Sasha’s friend said that she would take the shopping home and come back, then they would all play together. And she even knows what. Sasha did not dare to object to her.
- Zhenya, get up. Lena left,” she tried to push her brother Sasha away.
- Well, I couldn’t say that you are my brother. A disheveled miracle runs out in girl’s pajamas, with long hair and painted nails. If you want, I'll tell you that you're a boy.
Zhenya just burst into tears and turned to the wall.
- Don’t cry, otherwise you won’t believe that you’re a boy. If you want, we won’t say anything. Well, being a little girl isn’t scary at all.
And Sasha, captivated by the new idea, began rummaging through her old things to find something that fit Zhenya.
- Get up, Lena will come now. Wear tights, a T-shirt and a skirt. They should suit you. Zhenya stop crying. Decide something already. Lena is stubborn, she still has to get up.
The bell rang, Sasha went to open it, and Zhenya looked at the clothes his sister offered. If he would have agreed to put on tights, he didn’t want to wear a skirt at all. Tears ran from his eyes again, and he again covered his head with the blanket.
Then his girlfriends came into the room and began to bother him, and Lena also began to lisp.
- What a capricious Zhenya we have. Just like a little doll. I already know, my little sister just turned 2 years old. Oh, an idea...
And she began to whisper something to Sasha. Sasha tried to dissuade Lena, but still agreed. And with renewed vigor they began to slow down Zhenya.
- Zhenya, get up. It's time for breakfast. Stop being capricious. Come play with us. Get dressed. Let's play mother and daughter. Get up. Capricious. Well, that little doll is definitely not smart. That's it, we warned you. Blame yourself. If you don't want to obey your elders, we'll punish you. Do you want to lie in bed? Please. Only we will swaddle you. Get up.
Zhenya didn’t know what to do. He was afraid of Sasha's active friend. And he was probably ready to get up, but to change clothes in front of a stranger... Tears fell from their eyes.
The girls got tired of persuading him, and they began to implement their plan. They pulled off the blanket from Zhenya, took away the pillow and began to wrap him in the sheet on which he was lying. The girls were much older and together they easily broke Zhenya’s resistance. He shouted: “Don’t. I won't do it anymore. Let go." But the girls’ eyes lit up with excitement, and in a few minutes they finished swaddling in the sheet. Zhenya tried to squirm. And the girlfriends decided that they should continue swaddling. The little doll is very restless.
- Something is missing. Sasha, do you have a cap? All children must wear caps with frills.
- If there is, it will obviously be too small for Zhenechka.
- Then let's tie a scarf for her.
No sooner said than done. Sasha took out a white scarf and wrapped it tightly around Zhenya’s head. Then they laid out the blanket with which Zhenya covered himself and wrapped it as if in an envelope. Zhenya was already tired of crying, but tears flowed from his eyes, he felt completely helpless. Sasha took out her pink ribbons, and the girls secured the envelope by wrapping it several times with ribbons and tying them with beautiful bows.
- What a cute little girl. Usi-pusi, little one. Look what Aunt Lena has prepared for you.
And Lena inserted a pacifier into Zhenya’s mouth. He tried to spit it out, but Lena was prudent - the pacifier was on a ribbon, and the ribbon was tied with another bow. Zhenya failed to spit it out.
- That's it, little one, lie down, calm down. Little girls should obey their elders.
Sasha said that Zhenya needed to be fed breakfast, and the girls went to the kitchen to figure out what to feed the little doll. Zhenya couldn’t even move. A few minutes later the girls returned, took the pacifier out of Zhenya’s mouth and, with four hands, fed him a sandwich and milk. After wiping his mouth, they reinserted the pacifier, covered it with a corner of the envelope and, telling her to think about her behavior, went about their business. They were quite loud, so that Zhenya could hear the entire conversation through his scarf and blanket; they were distributing roles in the game among themselves.
- Let Zhenya be our daughter. “And I’ll be a mother,” Lena said.
“I also want to be a mother,” Sasha argued.
- Let you be a dad. Your name can be either a boy's or a woman's name. And you have short haircut. But boys cannot be Lenami.
While they were arguing, Zhenya really wanted to go to the toilet, but the pacifier prevented him from speaking, and he could only hum through it. The girls noticed that the swaddled cocoon was somehow not calm and approached it.
- What happened to our baby? Do you want mommy to take out the pacifier? Will you behave?
Zhenya nodded vigorously. He agreed to everything, as long as he didn’t wet himself. The pacifier was taken out and he said he wanted to go to the toilet. But the girls made him promise to obey them in everything.
- Tell. I will be an obedient girl. Tell. Mommy, daddy, I want to pee-pee. Tell. Mommy, give me the pacifier. And don't you dare take it out until we give permission.
Zhenya obediently repeated everything after Lena. They gave him a pacifier again, unwrapped him, and he rushed like an arrow to the toilet. When he came out of the toilet, he looked quite unusual, and hardly anyone would have said that he was a boy. Girl's pajamas, head wrapped in a scarf, pacifier in mouth, nails painted, confused. But the girls immediately took it into their own hands.
- Did the little one make a pee-pee? And who will wash it off?
- Zhenya, let's go to the room.
- Let's swaddle our baby. Should I bring a diaper so I don't have to get up to go to the toilet?
“There’s no need to swaddle,” Zhenya cried.
- Don't cry, sister.
- Not a sister, but a daughter. Daughter, who allowed you to take out the pacifier? We will swaddle naughty girls.
- I won't do it again.
“Darling,” Sasha played along, “maybe it’s time to dress our girl.”
- Yes, dear, my daughter and I will go wash, and you prepare what to wear for her.
Lena, like a little girl, washed Zhenya’s hands and washed him. But she made me take the pacifier again.
Sasha, meanwhile, tidied up the bed and, in addition to tights, a T-shirt and a skirt, took out panties and a ribbon.
When Zhenya and Lena returned from the bathroom, Zhenya quickly changed clothes without talking to Sasha, so that Lena wouldn’t see that he was a boy. White panties, light green tights, a blue T-shirt with long sleeves and a Mini Mouse painted on the front, a blue tight skirt with small polka dots - seemingly ordinary clothes, but for girls. Zhenya stood and was afraid to move. Lena took off his scarf and began to comb him.
- What soft hair our daughter has. What do you want: a braid or ponytails, or just tie a bow?
- Just give me a bow, I already got the ribbon. The hair is still too short for a beautiful braid,” Sasha noted.
- And we can braid them into two ears...
Zhenya stood there, neither alive nor dead. He didn't know how girls acted in such situations. In addition, he still had a pacifier in his mouth.
- Why are you silent, little one? Oh, you have a pacifier in your mouth. That's right, I didn't allow her to be taken out. Only children don’t just hold it in their mouth, but suck it. That's it, try it. Well done. Smack your lips. Smart girl. Now let's tie a bow. Our girl will be beautiful. Well, how sleepy are you? Sasha, get the toys. Here, take the doll. And we'll see what else we have here.
The girls enthusiastically began to take out Sasha’s old toys. In addition to a large assortment of soft toys, which Sasha also played with, there were baby dolls, children’s dishes, cubes, a dollhouse, and many other girly things. Everything was dumped on the carpet, and the girls themselves began to dig through it all with great pleasure.
But soon they got tired of it, Zhenya was allowed to take out the pacifier, left him with the toys, and they themselves began to play “beauty salon”. At first, Lena acted as the master. She didn’t conjure Sasha’s hair for long. After all, Sasha played the role of dad, and Lena simply gave her a side parting instead of a straight one and carefully licked her hair. But Sasha showed her imagination. Lena had long hair, and with her ponytail down, Sasha styled her hair up high, like an adult, using a bunch of her mother's hairpins. Then came the turn of cosmetics. Which means my parents are not at home. You can experiment to your fullest.
The girls had played enough and turned their attention to Zhenya. He forgot how he was dressed. He sat quietly on his carpet and built houses for dolls from blocks.
- Zhenechka, we are going to visit. Make-believe, of course. We need to change clothes. Sasha, do we have a festive dress that will suit our daughter?
- I'll look now.
-Come here, daughter. I'll untie the bow. It's not festive at all.
Zhenya approached Lena. He was very embarrassed, did not know what to do with his hands and was fiddling with the hem of his skirt. Lena untied the bow and began to take off his T-shirt. Meanwhile, Sasha took out her festive dress from the closet, which was bought for her when she was about Zhenya’s age.
The dress was green, velvet, with already sewn petticoats, long sleeves, gathered lanterns at the shoulders, and a white turn-down collar and cuffs. The belt at the waist was tied at the back with a large bow.
Zhenya's skirt was pulled off. Sasha handed him a white T-shirt with thin straps, and he put it on without objection. Then he raised his hands up, and they put this girlish splendor on him. Yes, it’s not like putting a sweater or T-shirt over your head. Zhenya even closed his eyes when white skirts rustled past his face, he put his hands into the sleeves and pulled the dress down.
He stood motionless. The girls straightened their dresses, fastened the buttons on the back, straightened their petticoats, which protruded slightly from under the hem, and tied a bow at their waists. And he was experiencing some new unfamiliar feelings and did not know whether he liked or not to be dressed in a dress. Any girl would be very pleased. The white cuffs, collar and lace edge of the petticoats nicely set off the dark green velvet of the festive dress.
- Why is our beauty silent? Do you like the new dress?
“Yes...” Zhenya answered confusedly.
- Say: thank you, mom, thank you, dad. Do not be silent.
- Thank you, mommy, thank you, daddy.
- Smart girl. Come, I'll kiss you.
Zhenya knew that girls kissed for any reason. But no matter how much I wanted to avoid it, it was impossible for Lena to suspect something. And he came up to her and turned his cheek.
- What is our good girl. But she also needs to go to the hairdresser.
- That's right, you can't do it like that. beautiful dress to be so disheveled.
- Chur, I will be a master. You, Sasha, just did my hair.
- OK. And my daughter and I seemed to have come to the hairdresser.
“I don’t want to get my hair cut,” Zhenya cried.
- All small children are afraid of scissors. What are you, little one? We won't cut your hair. Let's just comb it.
They sat him down in front of the mirror, and Lena picked up a large comb. Meanwhile, the curling iron was heating up. The girls decided to curl Zhenya’s hair a little. When Lena brought the curling iron to his hair, he began to struggle and cry.
- Dad, bring the pacifier and hold your daughter. I'm not doing anything bad.
The wife again put a pacifier in her mouth and forced her to suck.
- What kind of pampering is this? If you behave badly, we will undress you and swaddle you again, like a very small child.
Zhenya got scared and let himself be tricked. When Lena combed her curls curled with a curling iron, for some reason it was almost not noticeable that the hair had been curled, but her hairstyle became noticeably more voluminous.
- How our baby likes the pacifier. Stop sucking. Come here. Tell me what bow to tie. White or green.
“White,” said Zhenya. He saw that all girls with festive dresses were required to tie white bows.
- That's right, little one. Sasha, give us a big bow. And Zhenechka will close her eyes for now.
And Lena slightly tinted his eyelids and eyelashes. And then the girls tied a huge white bow for Zhenya. But they were still missing something. And they lightly rouged his cheeks and, as a final touch, painted his lips with shiny pink lipstick.
Zhenya sat with eyes closed and was afraid to look at myself in the mirror.
- All. The eyes can be opened. Well, dad, are you happy? Where is your mommy?
Zhenya opened his eyes and immediately closed them.
- Oh, what a doll! Daughter, you are so beautiful! “Get up,” Lena was already playing the role of mother.
Zhenya was ready to cry. A real doll was looking at him from the mirror, well, at least, a girl of kindergarten age.
- What's happened? Whims again? Give me the nipple again? Get up. Spin around. Smart girl. Give mom a pen, give dad a pen.
And they, taking him by the hands, walked throughout the apartment. Every now and then the girls stopped and admired their handiwork. And Zhenya had to spin around, learn to curtsey and kiss mom and dad. Then they no longer wanted to go on a visit, and they “went to the movies.” Sasha turned on the cartoon, and they sat decorously on the sofa in the living room. Zhenya found himself in the middle and sat without moving, with his hands on his knees, like an exemplary girl. Sasha noticed his stiffness and brought a doll.
- That's right, dear. Let the baby rock the doll. She's definitely a doll herself! Zhenya, do you want to be a doll?
- No…
- Okay, okay, I was joking. You are our beloved daughter.
After the cartoon, the three of them played with dolls, set the table with children's dishes, and, in general, did ordinary girly things. Zhenya got involved in the game and was no longer afraid of being exposed by Lena every minute. The only thing was that he was very shy when Sasha accompanied him to the toilet to hold his beautiful dress.
The girls were playing and did not notice that lunch time had come. rang out phone call. It was Lena's grandmother who called. Like, it’s almost three o’clock, it’s time for lunch. Lena got ready to go home. Sasha took the pins out of her hair. It turned out a little untidy, but Lena said she would comb her hair at home.
- Well, that's it, I ran. Otherwise grandma will scold you.
- Yes, it’s time for Zhenya and I to have a snack too.
- Goodbye, daughter. Kiss mommy... Well done. And I’ll give you a pacifier. Maybe we'll play some more. Or, if you’re naughty, Sasha will give it to you so you don’t cry. Okay, okay, just kidding. Kiss me again... That's it, bye.
Lena ran away. And for some reason Zhenya burst into tears.
- Well, why are you crying? Everything is fine. Lena didn't realize that you were a boy. Was it really boring to play with us? And in general, you, Zhenechka, are a very beautiful girl. Look in the mirror. I wish I had a sister like that. Let me kiss you. Okay, time for lunch. Come on, I’ll help you take off your dress so it doesn’t get dirty. Or do you want to stay in it while I heat up dinner?
Zhenya, in principle, had already gotten used to the dress, but there was no way he would admit it.
Sasha untied the belt, undid the buttons on the back and carefully took off Zhenya’s festive dress and T-shirt. But I noticed, what if suddenly, after lunch, Lena returns. Zhenya did not want to be a girl again. Then my sister suggested that for now we just put on a T-shirt, the same one we wore in the morning. We’ll have time to change clothes before our parents arrive, and if Lena does come in, then Zhenya will have time to put on her skirt; she won’t hide it for now. His wife had to agree, but he asked to remove the nail polish. Sasha helped him put on his T-shirt, set him up to heat up lunch, and there in the kitchen, she wiped off his and her nail polish with a special liquid. They had lunch, Sasha washed the dishes, and Zhenya helped dry them. Then they returned to the nursery and carefully hung the dress in Sasha’s closet. And then Zhenya saw himself in the large mirror in the closet door. A girl stood in the reflection. After all, he was wearing a girl’s T-shirt and tights, and, in addition, a large white bow in his hair. Sasha did not specifically remind him of the bow; she so wanted him to remain her little sister longer. And he somehow managed to get used to his hairstyle and while changing clothes, having lunch and removing nail polish, he didn’t notice that he was left with a bow.
- Sasha, untie me.
- What if Lena returns?
- So what. Girls go without bows.
- So you agree to be a girl?
“No-no...” Zhenya whined and began to tear off the bow himself.
- Wait, wait, I’ll carefully untie it myself. And there was no point in crying.
- You don’t wear bows.
- I'm already an adult. But I’m ready to tie a bow for myself if we tie one for you too. Want?
- No...
- OK OK. Let's go wash up. Otherwise mom will see the cosmetics.
They went to the bathroom and washed themselves with soap. Sasha dialed Lenin’s phone. She said that she would not come today, since her grandmother gave her housework. But he will definitely call you back in the evening. Therefore, Sasha hid the child’s skirt and took out Zhenya’s boy’s clothes, which she hid in the closet in the morning.
- It’s a pity, I got such a sister. And now again, brother. Let `s play.
And since there was still time before the parents arrived, they sat down on the carpet, where the toys were laid out.
The mothers arrived almost simultaneously. Sasha a little earlier, because it was much closer to her from work.
- Did you eat, what did you do?
- We ate, watched TV, played.
- And what did you play?
- To daughters and mothers.
Aunt Vera looked at Zhenya strangely. But then I thought: the boy is small, and what else is there to play with Sasha. Then Zhenya’s mother came. And they began to gather for the table again. We drank tea together. And mom and Zhenya got ready to go home.
- Zhenechka, you liked being with Sasha all day, will you come and visit us again? - asked Aunt Vera.
“Yes,” Zhenya answered timidly, holding his mother’s hand. He didn't know if he wanted a repeat of today. Probably not. But he was still interested in Sasha.
His mother, saying goodbye to her sister, noticed that the quarantine had just begun, and there was no one to leave him at home with. Tomorrow is of course the weekend. But next week she would ask Sasha to stay with Zhenya a couple more times, if they had such a good time together. Aunt Vera didn’t mind at all. But Zhenya didn’t know where to put his eyes from embarrassment, he was afraid that today’s game might repeat itself.
And the quarantine continued
To Krasnodar from Far East- a transgender person moved from Birobidzhan, and according to him, living in Kuban is much easier and more comfortable than in the small Jewish Autonomous Region. The unusual story of the girl-boyfriend Eva-Alexey, after publication in one of the Far Eastern media, was discussed on social networks. Most comment authors agree that changing the sex given by nature is wrong and condemn a transgender person in every possible way. But there are also those who are convinced that there is “nothing like that”; which gender one identifies with depends only on the person’s personal will. In the West, any concepts with the prefix “trans” and “homo” are treated more than loyally - trade unions are formed for such people, laws are written, and specialized clinics are created. In Russia it has always been and will be different - more than a third of Russians, according to surveys, consider everything associated with a violation of traditional human nature to be a disease, and two out of three have acute negative feelings towards representatives of minorities. They also have a deeply negative attitude towards this issue Orthodox Church and believers. Once upon a time, for such deeds, God completely destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah, the clergy remind. Psychologists are confident that transgenderism is not a disease, but long-term observation by a specialist is necessary. The story of transgender Eva-Alexey and the attitude of a psychologist, an Orthodox minister and the public towards her - in the material
The story of how a boy from the village of Belgorodskoye in the Jewish Autonomous Region became a girl from Krasnodar was told by Natalya Golovataya, a journalist of the Birobidzhan portal “City on Bir”. A transgender person from the Far East moved to Kuban three years ago.
– Let’s start with the fact that I, so to speak, was not born in my body. I always felt like a girl, I was friends with girls, played with dolls,” Eva writes to me on the social network, “We lived in a small village, but no one pointed a finger at me, like an elephant in a zoo, as a child. Probably because I have not been persecuted by society, I am not afraid to speak openly about it.
“Of course, when moving to Birobidzhan, I encountered a wave of misunderstanding. But this was not expressed in a negative attitude, not in aggression, but rather in curiosity. Everyone was interested in talking to me, finding out why this was the case. Well, let’s not forget about the fact that I studied at the university, after all, there are mature, well-mannered people there. And in my philological department, the level of “good manners” is even higher than in others. The teachers treated me with respect, I had no disgrace on myself “I didn’t experience it,” shares Eva. “Of course, there were nuances. For example, for the first six months of my studies, I shared a dorm room with a boy. I won’t say that living together brought us both puppy delight, but somehow we lived. After six months, they gave me a separate room, which could not but rejoice,” writes the portal “City on Bir”.
In her third year, Eva met a young man from Khabarovsk, began working as the host of her show program in a Khabarovsk club, sang, earned good money and, as a result, began to rarely appear at school. Therefore, in the fourth year, student Alexey-according to documents was expelled. In the summer of 2013, Eva flew to Krasnodar.
– Here I completed a make-up artist course, won a competition to study in Moscow and consolidated my knowledge there. I work as a makeup artist, host shows in clubs, and often visit both capitals of our homeland. Sometimes there are problems with passport control, but they do not cause much trouble. And people don’t shy away from me like I’m a ghost. I want a real wedding and a full-fledged family, but so far I haven’t been so hooked that I just melted. My future husband will definitely be brutal and smart, with a masculine core. And, of course, ready to take a child from an orphanage.
"Gender change for modern plastic surgery does not pose any significant problems. That is, purely technically, these operations are not the most difficult to perform. Another question is that it is quite expensive. A transgender person goes through several stages: observation and a psychiatrist’s report on mental health, preoperative therapy, a series surgical interventions, constant monitoring by specialists and lifelong use of hormonal medications. Eva has been taking pills for five years and has undergone two surgeries. As soon as all the operations are completed, she will change the documents. And finally, the name Eva will appear not only on the arm as a tattoo, but also in the passport,” writes the Birobidzhan portal.
The story of a transgender person who moved to Krasnodar from the Far East has excited the public. Photo: From social networks - the personal account of the hero of the publication
The story of Eva-Alexey was discussed on one of the “threads” on social networks.
“How can I imagine that everything “there” is not real, it’s just sickening, honestly. She will take the baby! Will she put her on artificial formula or will her breasts grow? What kind of education can she (that is, IT) give to the child? What family values can she teach?” ( Here and below, the spelling of the authors of the comments is largely preserved - approx. News Agency KrasnodarMedia).
“Maybe this, of course, is her personal business, this girl-guy, but I’m glad that in our country people like him-she will always be condemned. Europe and the USA will soon die out, taking leaps and bounds towards the abyss for humanity, I don’t want so that Russia becomes extinct..."
“Guys, what about “Chetakova”? Well, that’s his personal business. But if I had been born a woman, I might have changed my gender, but I definitely don’t want to go back. Life is easier for men.”
“Where is the world going? After all, this is the obvious influence of the West, well, there were never so many minorities in the USSR. And don’t let them tell me that it’s as if we didn’t have sex, I grew up in the USSR and not a single friend, not a single acquaintance with such I don’t know about deviations.”
“I am a believer and I simply deeply do not understand how and why people come to such an understanding for themselves that they want to be of a different gender - God created us as we are. I don’t presume to judge - it’s not for me to judge, it’s just beyond my understanding ".
“I don’t justify it. And I don’t accept it. But here’s an example - imagine that they offer you a million dollars to change your gender. And you don’t want to. But imagine that you agreed for the money, went for it. It will be comfortable in someone else’s body "It seems to me no. Maybe she was uncomfortable in the boy’s body. Maybe psychologists should work with such people, even if it’s not a disease, but definitely a psychological or mental disorder. And it’s quite possible that it can be treated.”
The story of a transgender person who moved to Krasnodar from the Far East has excited the public. Photo: From social networks - the personal account of the hero of the publication
Psychologists are mostly convinced that if transgenderism is a disease, then it is spread only by the Internet and rare media that promote the “cult of minorities.”
In a broad sense, transgenderism cannot be called a disease or mental disorder, says family consultant Anton Starovoitov. “But transgender people can experience extreme stress, even depression, associated with personal rejection of their body. This “cognitive dissonance” when you want to be a man, but in fact a woman (or vice versa) is called gender dysphoria and often a transgender transition is the only way to solve the problem. Many people call transgender transition a sex change - this is wrong.
Transgender transition is not an operation where you are once “cut off”, it is a complex set of measures, when socialization in a new role takes place, open recognition to family and friends and mandatory consultations with a psychologist - many consultations with professional psychologists and long-term observation.
Even if you decide to make a transgender transition, the psychologist continues, the process should not happen all at once, in one year. As a psychologist, I recommend going through this stage for at least three years and preferably, oddly enough, at a more mature age, after 25 . Because if earlier, while you are young and your blood is “seething” and you want everything at once, then you can greatly regret the hasty decision, because this is already forever.
I want to say that many so-called transgender people are not actually transgender; there is a concept called gender discomfort, when you are simply at times (or often) uncomfortable in your body. There are quite a few such people; often, in order to satisfy their craving for gender change, it is enough for them to simply sometimes wear men’s (women’s) things or behave accordingly. I don’t presume to condemn these people, because we don’t condemn those who consume sweets excessively or walk around the house naked. If this happened to me, honestly, I don’t know how I would behave. But I would hardly dare to make a transgender transition, primarily because it is still a great sin.
The Orthodox clergyman, Father Barsanuphius, also calls the action of the transgender Eva-Alexey sinful.
The Church is deeply disgusted by any kind of condemnation, but sin is sin. The Lord gave you to be born in your body - accept it as a gift. If you were born a man and strive to become a woman, this is against God, against the very nature of man. Changing your gender is not only a sin, it is also a human misfortune. And even the aspirations that such people set for themselves when undergoing surgery will not be achieved by them - instead of solving their problems, there will be even more of them, the person will come to a deep internal crisis.
Sinful perversions may go away over time, but a person will remain with an unusual nature for the rest of his life, or will be completely lost in who he is. After all, this is no longer a man or a woman, but a certain it. Such people do not even have the opportunity to leave behind offspring or build a normal family. My opinion is that you need to talk less about such people, admire less, stir up less excitement - after all, if someone stepped in manure, you wouldn’t climb after him? And you won’t tell me how he tries to wash himself off the manure. So it is here. If such a sin attracts a person, then the only way out for him is not to indulge himself, but to try with all his might to free himself. Prayer, confession, communion, abstinence of the flesh - and sooner or later peace and tranquility will come in the soul.
We are celebrating the tenth anniversary of the global economic crisis in conditions of catastrophic polarization of society. Even the Managing Director of the International Monetary Fund, Christine Lagarde, is worried - the share of the middle class has been declining over the past decades, but the number of millionaires and the percentage of new poor are growing. Despite feminist campaigns, this army of new poor is being replenished by women.
A wealthy minority has concentrated in its hands a share of public wealth unseen in a century. For example, the richest 10% of Russians own almost 90% of all national wealth. But the poor half own practically nothing. And practically the same is true everywhere in the world.
The new world, in which again, like a century ago, luxury and poverty coexist, has one important feature. The share of women among the disadvantaged is growing. Researchers call this process the feminization of poverty.
Single mothers, retired women, disabled women, and women heads of households were especially vulnerable.
According to statistics, women are more likely to suffer from unjustified dismissals; from precarious employment; on their shoulders lies the lion's share of the burden associated with leading household and raising children, which is considered in most countries as “natural duties” that cannot be paid; women make up the majority of workers in “non-prestigious” and low-paid professions; they are less likely to have access to unofficial, tax-free earnings. An additional blow to women was the global process of commercialization of the public sector: the destruction or rise in cost of the system of kindergartens, children's sports and education primarily affects women.
Poverty has a predominantly female face, not only in Russia. The poverty structure is similar in Sweden and in most other countries. This situation would seem to create the preconditions for the growing popularity of the ideas of feminism in their original form: as an ideology of social equality of men and women. But, unfortunately, nothing like this is happening yet. Modern feminism - in its mainstream forms - focuses not on social issues, but on a purely cultural agenda. On the perception of female sexuality; on criticism of traditional forms of relations between the sexes; on issues of identity.
And now we may be witnessing a new, even more striking turn. Feminism, as a global ideology, suffers one defeat after another - and precisely when millions of women on the planet experience the most intolerable injustice every day.
The story of Ivan Kolpakov, editor of the liberal Meduza, accused of harassing the wife of his subordinate, is indicative. The management of the publication apologized to the victims, but tried to keep Kolpakov in his post. And only a huge scandal forced him to resign. The revealed hypocrisy in the behavior of Kolpakov and his editors is perceived by many as a typically Russian story.
“In terms of this, it seems that there is complete consensus between the “two Russias” (opposition and official).” But the trouble is that this is not national specificity at all. Here, one of the locomotives of the liberal economy, Google apologizes for the fact that its top managers harassed their subordinates. But a study conducted by Swedish trade unions shows that in a quarter of a century the number of cases of harassment has doubled. And the global MeToo rally does not seem to allow one to distract from the international scale of the problem. Russia turned out to be just a legitimate part of the Western world.
"Feminism is not cool anymore."
Just recently, feminism seemed to be part of the “progressive ideology” that had won in the West, whose dominance is undeniable. But it turned out to be not so durable at all.
Over the past few years, the entire system of liberal values, and feminism, as an important part of it, has increasingly entered a period of crisis.
Donald Trump's victory over Hillary Clinton seemed like a paradoxical failure of the system. But such failures are becoming more and more frequent. For example, winning presidential elections in Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro. Such a reactionary politician has not come to power in any major country for many decades. There is no place to brand him: he scolded democracy, praised the military dictatorship, justified torture, and threatened to imprison his opponents. But his strong point remains militant anti-feminism bordering on outright misogyny. He openly opposes pay equality between men and women. And he told one female senator that he would not rape her because “she doesn’t deserve it.”
And this guy wins by a large margin. But it is not just “white heterosexual men” who tremble for their privileges who vote for him. The most amazing thing is that he received 44% of the votes from women from different social classes. And it is impossible to attribute the popularity of the far-right candidate to the ignorance of voters: the topic of gender equality was one of the central ones in the presidential campaign.
On the contrary, many of the women who voted for Bolsonaro may themselves serve as examples of successful emancipation.
“A real feminist is a woman who gets up early, works hard, fights for her independence, and not these women who complain about life all the time but have never worked a day,” one of them said in an interview with the British The Guardian. Although feminists waged a massive campaign against Bolsonaro across the country, holding huge demonstrations and staging mass street performances, almost half of the women ignored them. “These women who take their clothes off in the streets and scream, they don’t represent me,” said supporters of the new president interviewed by The Guardian.
Or another example, on the opposite side of the globe. Sweden, which Julian Assange called " Saudi Arabia Human Rights", is almost universally recognized as the capital of liberal feminism. In this country, almost everything is officially declared feminist: from foreign policy before school education. And the moral authority of gender equality values is here long years almost no one doubted it.
But a recent study showed that over four years the proportion of men calling themselves feminists fell from 40% to 28%, and among men over 30 this figure completely fell by half. And although most women still identify with this ideology, their enthusiasm seems to be waning. For example, the Feminist Initiative party, which in 2014 entered the European Parliament with more than 5% of the votes, received a pitiful 0.62% in the September elections.
Anticipating this emerging crisis of liberal feminism, Greta Turfjell, a columnist for the most influential Swedish newspaper Dagens Nyheter, wrote a column that caused a scandal in the country comparable to the one that unfolded around Meduza in our country. Greta did not harass anyone, but she also broke a long-standing unspoken taboo.
“Feminism is not cool anymore,” she declared.
“I feel like a conservative. But there is something taboo about conservatism today, a curse placed on it that makes it, for the politically correct generation, something new and exciting. There is some relief in allowing yourself to be a bad feminist. It feels... a little cool."
Reverse witches hammer
As the MeToo campaign swept across the globe, wiping out the careers and reputations of screen stars and politicians, fearful conservatives often compared it to the witch hunts of the 15th to 18th centuries. They say that then the Inquisition and the Church executed tens of thousands of women, and now they are persecuting men.
The medieval book "The Hammer of the Witches", which became the instructions for most inquisitorial trials, describes a typical situation in which a woman becomes a witch. A nobleman leaves his mistress in order to profitably marry a girl from his class. An insulted girl wants to take revenge on her offender and buries a dead snake or frog under his threshold to put the evil eye on him and deprive him of his masculine strength. She is grabbed and dragged to the stake.
At a time when inequality was sanctified by the church and tradition as an unshakable shrine, protesting against it was considered sacrilege and punishable by death.
Today, it would seem, equality is proclaimed the highest value. But in reality there is less and less of it. The mainspring of most MeToo cases was precisely inequality and dependence. Be it Harvey Weinstein, who demanded sex from young actresses looking for roles in his films, or Ivan Kolpakov, who pestered a girl because he “wouldn’t get anything for it.” It turns out that MeToo is precisely the naive witchcraft that women resorted to, and not at all the repression that later befell them.
Beginning as an offensive feminist campaign, MeToo ends in defeat, even if all those involved are punished. Liberal feminism is rapidly losing its position.
If in the years " cold war", feminism was strongly associated with communists and socialists, being part of their “dangerous” and “subversive” ideology, then in recent decades it has become the ideological banner of liberal reforms. The more liberal and center-left governments around the world privatized, loosened labor market controls, cut taxes on capital and reduced social security, the more they talked about gender equality and other progressive values. As a result of these reforms, inequalities in wages, access to education, medicine or culture have increased radically. And it was women who suffered the most from this.
The doubling of the number of cases of harassment over the quarter century of total dominance of feminism in Sweden is explained not so much by the fact that it has become easier for women to admit such problems, but by the fact that due to the growth of precarious employment, their dependence on their boss at work has greatly increased. And this works more powerfully than any values.
Liberals and center-leftists who succeeded each other in power continued to destroy the social state, talking pompously about gender equality. Meanwhile, statistics show that
Swedish middle-class men have lived an average of 6 years longer since 1980, but the poorest quarter of women in the country are content with the life expectancy achieved during the morally “conservative” era of social democracy.
Witchcraft doesn't really work - not in the Witches' Hammer era, not today. Liberal progressives failed to bewitch reality with the help of words and pretentious spells. Millions ordinary women They feel from their own experience that their life is getting worse, and that there is more and more real, not declarative inequality in it.
Having become the ideological façade of neoliberal society, modern liberal feminism has become a symbol of all its social contradictions, hypocrisy, corruption and inequality. And that is why he is losing popularity even in his stronghold, Sweden.
To the average person, far from theoretical debates, feminism is perceived as a caricatured movement against female sexuality, an aggressive fight against romantic relationships; as a set of ethical requirements that no one understands and a series of unnecessary renamings. Feminists are those who do not shave their armpits, hate men and demand that instead of the word “author” they demand that the strange “author” be applied to them. And liberal feminism has contributed to the creation of this caricature, which causes millions of women to turn away from the very idea of equality.
In the meantime, sensing which way the wind is blowing, the elite’s media staff are in a hurry to update their threadbare ideological wardrobe, proclaiming new fashion instead of worn-out “feminism” - a fashion for conservatism. Soon they will make conservatism great again. And then the real witch hunt will begin.
And to stop this reaction, we need a new feminism. Not a totalitarian utopia that seeks to erase the differences between men and women, but a struggle for social equality among biologically different people. For equality, which we all need equally.
She stood on the threshold, smiling: “Here I am. Just call me Masha." “Come in,” I say, “My name is Alexey.” Take off your clothes." Masha laughed: “Why bother? No, Lesha, come on.”
She took off her coat, put down her huge bag and resolutely entered the room: “We don’t have much time, where should we start?” I said I don't care.
A friend recommended this service to me. Unlike me, he is married, but one day his wife and children went to the dacha for the whole summer, and a friend got bored in the middle of the week. And I found the “Wife for an Hour” service.
I really liked his story; one can still feel sad in the evenings. I decided to try it and called this Masha, a steep-hipped brunette of about forty. In general, I love brunettes with strong bodies.
Masha, meanwhile, had already started in the room. She was busily making the bed, which I had not cleaned for a month, and grumbled: “I could do it myself, otherwise I’m glad to blame everything on my wife. Probably the dishes aren’t washed either?” I happily answered: “Yes! There’s a whole mountain there!”
Masha quickly went to the kitchen: “You’re already too old!” Also some frying pans?”
I sat down on a chair, put my feet on another chair and watched with pleasure as Masha tinkered with the dishes. She washed it deftly, but silently.
“No, that won’t work,” I say. “What kind of wife is this?”
Masha smiled: “Oh, I got distracted, sorry. What do you think is better – louder or boring?” Better boring, I said.
And Masha began to itch, how tired she was of me, ruined her life, and today she just got her nails done, and here I am with my dishes, I can’t do anything at all, a terrible person, why did she marry me.
Oh, it was wonderful. To say that I enjoyed it is not enough. I was delighted. But then Masha suddenly turned around: “No, why are you silent? What do you have to say in your defense?
I sat down more comfortably: “And I’m damn tired at work...” Then Masha got furious: “Oh, are you tired? Yesterday I drank with friends all day and was tired, right?” Then she politely asked: “Can I break one plate?” I nodded: “Yes, the one with the crack.”
Masha slammed the plate on the floor: “I’m not tired, right?”
God, how impressive it was and how similar it was to normal family life. Yes, I suddenly wanted a normal family life, at least for an hour. Can I, divorced three times, allow myself this weakness? And even pay for it. I don't mind spending money on this.
Masha collected the fragments, washed the floor, and wiped off the dust. She opened the refrigerator: “Listen, this won’t do. There should be beer here, and not just stale sausage.” Why, I ask, beer?
“Well, how? – Masha laughed. “This is the best reason to have a fight.” Oh, I say, exactly, but I don’t feel like going to the store. Masha said menacingly: “You guys can’t do anything!”
Then she took out three bottles of beer from her large bag: “I carry all the necessary supplies with me!” She put one in the refrigerator and gave two to me: “Hide it somewhere, I’ll have to find it.”
The one she put away, Masha immediately took out: “What is this, huh? Was yesterday not enough for you?” And she poured the beer into the toilet. She looked at me angrily: “So! You don’t make a scandal, that means you definitely have a stash!”
To our chagrin, Masha found the stash very quickly, in the closet, between the bed linen. This is an infection, I got angry. “Maybe you can hide it?” – she asked. No, I say, you and I will have another game - socks!
And I showed her the basket where the washed socks lay. They had to be sorted in pairs. Masha took her socks longingly, and I lay down on the sofa.
“Let’s turn on your football,” she ordered me. “And I will continue to itch.” No, I answer, what is football without beer? And there is no more interesting sight in the world than a gloomy wife sorting socks. And in general, now I wanted a heart-to-heart conversation.
“Well, here we go again! – Masha screamed. - He was rude to me, and now - a heart-to-heart, right? Maybe you'll apologize?" And for about ten minutes we argued over which of us was to blame. I was lying on the sofa, Masha was sorting socks, we were arguing, it was pleasure, it was wild ecstasy.
It was real family life. Finally, I called her a fool, Masha began to cry. And so naturally that I even jumped up from the sofa and hugged her shoulders: “Masha, sorry, I got carried away...” She looked mockingly: “Yeah, I apologized!” Well, let’s have a heart-to-heart talk, what’s the problem?”
And I talked for a long time about how stupid my boss is, how hard it is for me at work, how little my salary is, how no one appreciates me, how difficult it is for me to live, and how my neighbors are annoying too. Masha put her socks aside, sat down next to her, looked into her eyes: “Darling, but I’m next to you. I will always be by your side, don't worry. Would you like me to bring you a beer?”
I tell you, you poured it out. “No,” he smiles. – I hid those two bottles. Will you?
She brought a glass filled with beer... but at that moment her phone beeped. “Oh, sorry, Lesha, time is up. I have to go!" I begged Masha to extend it for another hour, promised to pay double the rate, because I still really wanted to complain about life.
But Masha was already hurrying into the hallway: “I can’t, there are two more clients today, I’m in great demand. How many of you are there, unfortunate men who need not sex, not some kind of debauchery, but just an ordinary wife - at least for an hour.”
And she left. I poured the beer down the sink; I was fine without it. What a wonderful wife Masha is, real, just like in life. And now I knew for sure that I would call Masha in about a month.
And it will be a special evening because I will be “sick.” I will lie in bed with a temperature of 37.3 and suffer. Let Masha jump around, let her!
