Sexual objectification III

Running topics are once again taking a back seat as my mentor directs me to write about my experiences as I’m prepared for a future role. This is a continuation of the previous post in which I turned getting dressed in the morning into a show for the woman who lived in the apartment next door.

The woman who took over the lease next door to me was every bit as pretty as the woman who’d just moved out. Tall and thin with black hair, she was in her early 20’s. I found her very attractive.

She was a co-worker at an insurance agency with the former tenant, and she had visited her once before when I did my thing in front of the window. However, when she moved in, she put up a wall screen that covered most of her window. My interpretation was that she wasn’t interested in my morning shows.

In addition, another woman in her mid-30’s often came over first thing in the morning. I later learned she was yet another co-worker at the insurance agency. So attractive was she also. I really liked having such beautiful women right next door. However, I thought she was there to provide support to her friend and co-worker, and possibly to dissuade me from doing my thing.

It was surprising that mentor did not push me to disrobe while the two were there. I noticed small signs that I was misinterpreting, but being the cautious person I am, I didn’t act on it.

One afternoon I was at my window when my attractive neighbor came outside and went to her car to get something. It appeared this was a ruse because the way she carried herself, and her self-awareness told me she’d noticed me inside my place and knew I was now watching her. It was time.

Somehow, I immediately got up over this, and loosening my belt, I returned to window view fully dressed save a flag pole rising well above my pant’s waistline.

In no time she came out the door again and did the same as before. I interpreted this (correctly), as an invitation to resume my morning shows.

As before, I so enjoyed disrobing and presenting myself in various ways while the flag pole was up. Another idea mentor provided was to use a hole that I had cut in my pant’s pocket and use it as an exit point.

Though I couldn’t see through my neighbor’s sheer curtain, at times while performing close to my window, as I kept myself shielded from being seen by anyone else, she often strolled slowly past another, uncovered window. Oh, I liked it when she did that.

Like the previous tenant, she had a guy, and he worked out of town often. Though I chatted with my pretty neighbor on occasion, like before, it was typical neighbor-chat, and there was never any discussion of, or interaction beyond our morning ritual.

Also like before, as time went on, mentor pushed me to take more risks. There was an occasional evening try, but when her guy came home as I was about to disrobe one evening, mentor allowed me to abandon that idea.

One morning, mentor suggested my neighbor was usually up well before my regular start time, and I should do something special. I did not want to do this, but as always, I was compelled.

I opened the curtains in my dining area which faced my neighbor’s kitchen, and with the sun still not up, I was well-illuminated as I prepared to climb atop the dining table and stand on my knees without a stitch of clothing, flag-pole up, to dust the light fixture.

As I was atop the table, taking my time to get every speck of dust, my neighbor’s grandfather walked into view in the breezeway between our places. His eyes wavered slightly as if he’d seen me peripherally and wanted to look directly. I don’t know how much he saw, but I immediately climbed down and went into damage control.

My neighbor’s grandfather came over occasionally to check on her, and I’d talked to him on a previous visit. He was likeable, and I’d told him I’d watch out for her. As you can see, I did more than watch out for her.

The grandfather left, and later that morning as I took out the garbage, I unexpectedly ran into my neighbor. I figured she’d been watching and saw the whole thing, so I wanted to apologize for trying such a stunt. However, when I said I was sorry for this morning’s near disaster, she looked perplexed. Turns out she saw nothing. She had slept late.

I quickly changed my tune, making up a story about a friend who had stopped by and then drove recklessly as he left, jumping the curb in front of her apartment.

As the next few days passed, no one knocked on my door or confronted me about what happened. Apparently I dodged a bullet again.

This wasn’t the only incident in which I was caught in the window. In each case, instead of being allowed to do the sensible thing and refraining, mentor again compelled me to continue the show the next morning as if nothing had happened. I know this caused some grief to my neighbor.

After a few months, her lease was up and she moved out. An elderly couple from Kentucky moved into the apartment, and they often brought over a slice of freshly baked homemade pie that was very delicious.

Enough time has passed that it’s apparent I escaped mostly unscathed, as far as know, and up to now. I feel an attachment to the women next door because I saw traits in them that I admired, and despite my behavior, I think they’d still say I’m an okay guy. Though we were separated by two windows and several feet of concrete, there was an intimacy in our morning ritual, and I wished there was a way I could have talked to them more often.

If you missed an earlier, much shorter post, My Daily Stress, I explain why I must do these things and who mentor is.


Sexual objectification II

This is a continuation of the previous post which has nothing to do with running. My mentor has instructed me to use this platform to tell about my experiences as I’m prepared for a future role.

In the last post I wrote about undressing in front of a window in my living room so that I could be seen by a young, attractive woman who lived in the next-door apartment. I didn’t think it wise to do this, but mentor easily compels me to do things against my will.

This undressing quickly changed from just changing my clothes to putting on a show. Sometimes I was completely without clothes, other times I wore loose pants that I allowed to slowly slip down. I often did trivial tasks like watering houseplants or dusting and then interrupt my work by swinging back and forth, presenting myself with a side view, or just standing to allow my neighbor to witness the hands-off, full stage of growth from relaxed to not relaxed.

Sometimes while completely undressed, I pressed my body against the window. Often I’d stand close to the window and move my hips back and forth, mimicking a pendulum-like musical timing device called a metronome, pictured below.

Metronome photo by Vincent Quach.

Photo by Vincent Quach.

Along the way, my neighbor gave me signs that she liked my daily show even though I couldn’t see her because of the sheer curtain covering her window. My reluctance when I started doing this turned into enjoyment. It was exciting, and at times it hit me how wonderful it felt to be parading around naked and doing all these things as a woman willingly watched. The term “sexual object” is usually applied to women and can have a negative connotation. For a man, however, it’s very gratifying. A couple times, after especially erotic “performances”, my pretty neighbor came outside and waved good-by to me as I left for work. It melted my heart when she did this.

However, our occasional, passing conversations were of the typical, neighborly type. There was quite an age difference between us, and in addition, she was tight with her boyfriend. This put a damper on any talk of what was going on, or of anything happening outside of my morning activities.

As the weeks passed, I became less enthused to continue. It seemed to me it was becoming old hat for my neighbor. However, mentor pushed me to continue and take increasing risks. I started disrobing after coming home from evenings out which I was in no mood to do. It was also very risky because the boyfriend was there. A bunch of times I was forced to do these evening performances, and I’m so lucky I was not seen by anyone but her, as far as I know.

Also, whenever I stood close to the window, I was visible to several residences. I always monitored the outside environment when I did this, but someone could be looking out their window, and it might be hard for me to notice. One morning this happened, and I noticed too late.

In a residence across the street, two women were watching and they retreated when they saw me look their way. I immediately stopped my performance and made sure I couldn’t be seen by them. However, a short time later, a vehicle pulled up in front of my neighbor’s apartment.

The guy eyed my place before getting out and knocking on my neighbor’s door. She stepped outside and they talked for a few minutes. She had an expression of deep concern the entire time. She did not smile or appear at ease. Was this guy a plainclothes policeman?

He did most of the talking, and it appeared she was giving short responses to whatever he was asking. In the end, he returned to his vehicle and drove away.

I’ve written before that it’s my nature to be cautious. After something like this, of course I’d cool it. But the next morning I was back at it, directed to do so by my unrelenting mentor.

Eventually the boyfriend got an out-of-state job and the woman next door moved away. With all the risk-taking I did, I’m so thankful there weren’t any big negative incidents. Involving my neighbor also put her at risk, but I’m so grateful for her divine attention and her care in keeping our arrangement under wraps.

I thought my days as a performer were over. However, the next tenant in the empty unit next to me was another tall, young, single woman. My next post will describe what happened as my performing career unexpectedly continued.

For readers who wonder why I am doing these things, and who “mentor” is, it can be found in a previous, much shorter post, My Daily Stress.

Sexual objectification I

I’m called upon once again by my discarnate mentor to write about experiences as I am prepared for a future role, so another vacation from running topics.

As I’ve mentioned before, I must do many things that I would not choose on my own. Often there is a sexual aspect to this. I’ve written previously about a sexual fantasy in which I disrobed as a young, attractive woman watched and how it became almost 100% accurately manifested in reality fairly recently.

In this case, a tall, young woman with bouncy blonde hair moved into the unit next door and had a good view into my “apartment”. I was working outside one day and she came up to me and introduced herself. She was friendly and out-going.

Not long after this, as I got dressed one morning, mentor instructed me to do so in front of the window. I did not think this was a wise idea, nor did I the next morning when I was told to do so again. However, both mornings I stripped off everything I had on and then quickly put my clothes on. Because of a sheer curtain on her window that allowed her to see into my place, but prevented me from seeing in, I did not know if she saw.

I was given a break for a few days, and one morning after returning from a run, I dawdled getting into the shower. Without any input from mentor, I happened to notice signs that the woman next door and a visiting friend were monitoring me, expecting that I’d be changing.

I was grateful this happened because of the risk I’d taken. It told me that my undressing had been noticed and without any apparent negative reaction which was hugely important because the following week I would be sent to the window again and do more than just change my clothes.

For a few months, nearly every morning before my work day, I “performed” in front of the window. Knowing that I had a receptive audience, and receiving small signs along the way signaling approval, I came to enjoy doing this.

However, mentor pushed me to do things that involved greater risk, and it turned out that others caught glimpses of my performances. In the next post, I will continue with this topic. For readers who haven’t read a previous post, My Daily Stress, I explain why I must do these things.

Football and distance running

With the Super Bowl coming up, the editorial board and staff of I Must Run Everywhere (me), decided to do a post about the close relationship of football and running. In addition, to commemorate the Seahawks vs. Patriots game, I carried a football on my run today.Football runnningThough they seem like completely different sports, there are many interwoven aspects. Running has been around for millennia, but football arose from it as a distinct American sport in the late 19th and early 20th century. Because of their shared background, many phrases associated with football have their origins in running. This is easy to see below in the football expressions that are followed by the common running term it arose from.

First and 10. / First in 10K.

His pass try fell incomplete. / He passed the guy with big feet.

First and goal. / First is my goal.

Another field goal try, so Cody kicks again. / Another field saying bye-bye as Jody kicks it in.

He passed 45 times in the win. / She passed 45 runners to win.

He finished off the win with a quarterback sack at the end. / She finished up the run a quarter mile back of her friend.

He appeared in court, knees on floor and said, “Let me have bail. I won’t run, Judge Tinner” / He appeared at Courtney’s door and said, “Let’s bail on our run and go have dinner.”

I was starting running back in the football game. / I started running back and my foot got lame.

A race to watch

Before I get going on today’s topic, I have a financial opportunity. If winning $50 sits well with you, answer the following question which has answer clues embedded: Name the major race held in early March in the Snake River Canyon in Eastern Washington which covers 13.1 miles.

When I first tried this quiz, my answer, River of Snakes Half of a Marathon was so close. However, my disappointment at losing out on $50 is shown in the below photo.Jim saddened

If you guessed Snake River Canyon Half Marathon, you are right. Congratulations! Well-known quiz show host Sprint McDowell is delighted to award your winnings. Just download the app, Cash for Me from the app store to your mobile device. Tap on the envelope Sprint is holding and a slot will form on your screen. Your $50 will be dispensedSONY DSCMany Spokane runners make the two-hour drive to Wawawai on the Snake River for this flat, out-and-back race. Click here for race details.

I refuse to participate because of a bad experience I had the one time I entered. I spent a lot of money traveling to Hawaii instead of Wawawai. Once there, I drove myself crazy looking for the race starting area.

The course record holder is Evan Sims, an acquaintance and member of Spokane running clubs, who ran 1:07:06 in 2012. This is a per mile pace of 5:07. I am sure Phidippides, the originator of the marathon would be delighted knowing what a very fast pace Evan ran.

However, Phidippides would cuss and do body slams in his grave if he knew race organizers regularly cut his race to just half the distance after he paid the ultimate sacrifice completing the first marathon.

Evan, who’s in his 30’s, believes he’s in his peak running years, and it won’t be long before he starts slowing down, so he’s running lots of miles in a try to break the course record. I talked to him last Thursday and he’d already run 90 miles for the week, and he doesn’t take any days off. Evan is shown leading a race in the below photo.Evan in race

However, all Evan’s work could be for naught if it’s a gusty day. This has happened to him at this race before.

If Evan makes his goal, I will do something that I’ve never done before. I award gold stars to people who perform random acts of kindness and amazing achievement. After a person has earned 10 stars, they receive a certificate. This accomplishment is so difficult, that only two people (Jill Cameron of Frederick, MD and myself) have ever done it. I will award Evan a certificate even though he’s well short of ten gold stars.cert

Good luck, Evan. May the above certificate soon be in your hands.



Snatch monster at gay nightclub

Once again, this running blog won’t delve into running. However I will return to the normal running-related posts next week.

I’ve been directed to tell my about my experiences as I am prepared for a future role that will be very fulfilling for me. As well, I’m to be gifted with an ability to help others in a way that is immediate and very beneficial.

To attain this, I must do many things, for a very long time, that I would never choose to do on my own. These activities leave me vulnerable and humbled. I’m normally a cautious and quiet guy, and I once enjoyed a simple life in which mundane, everyday tasks brought me pleasure. My lifestyle now is quite different.

In this post I continue writing about going out in public dressed in a sexually suggestive way. Photos showing this style of dress are in the previous post.

As I’ve mentioned, my discarnate mentor communicates with me constantly, and when I started going out dressed this way back in 2006, my mentor labeled me the Snatch Monster, a take off on the Cookie Monster. As I was preparing to go out and while being out, my mentor nearly always addressed me this way. Calling me Snatch Monster was such a corny thing, but it eased the dread I felt, like taking a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down.

One summer I was directed to visit a gay bar repeatedly. This bar attracted a mixed crowd, and I’d been there before with groups for late night dancing. However, I was to go alone, dressed as the Snatch Monster.

I experienced what women must go through when they’re being hit on, yet have little interest in going to the next level, or even in the guy who’s hitting on them. No one was overly aggressive or rude, and I made sure to be as diplomatic as possible.

I usually danced alone in the crowd. Considering the way I was dressed, I was lucky to have no unpleasant experiences. One time though, a guy put his hands on my hips and his arm around my waist repeatedly. He tried to dance with me one-on-one, but I moved slowly away and gave him no attention whenever he came close.

Another guy, visiting from Alberta, came over as I took a break and spent several minutes talking to me. Nice guy, but I simply don’t have it in me to be sexual with men. He mentioned the nearby hotel he was staying at, and I’m sure he was waiting for me to say or give some sign that I’d go there with him. But I didn’t, and he eventually gave up.

Another time, two guys dressed in drag came over and de-shirted me on the dance floor. I couldn’t find where they put my shirt, so I spent the rest of the night dancing bare-chested with pants that were barely hanging on.

As I was about to leave, I found my shirt. It was still warm enough at 3 am to be bare chested, and as I walked along the quiet downtown street, shirt in hand, I was relieved that the long night was finally over.

So often I am dismayed about the things I have to do to satisfy my discarnate mentor. But by the next day I’m usually in a better frame of mind for my next task.

Becoming a sexual object

This is a blog about running, but today there won’t be anything about running. My “consultant” has directed me to write about a different topic.

In my last post, I mentioned how I must often go out in public dressed in a sexually suggestive manner. Near the end of this post are photos of myself showing what this looks like. There is no tradition in American culture for this, so when I first started, I was worried about unpleasant things happening to me.

I’m required to go out on the town often and usually alone. On days off from work and often after work, I go to coffee places, stores, nightspots, and take care of errands dressed this way. When I first started in 2006, a woman employee of a nightclub who I’d come to know well, asked me if I was all right.

Though I’ve crossed paths with people I know numerous times and attended functions where there were many acquaintances, no one within my social circle has remarked about my style of dress. It’s such an awkward topic for discussion, and I’ve never written or talked about it specifically until now.

Sometimes I’m directed to go to the mall, downtown or certain stores and pretend to shop. I’m not much of a mall person, and I don’t buy many things. But I’ve spent lots of hours walking through malls and in and out of stores while dressed in this sexually suggestive way. Sometimes I’m directed to walk from place to place along busy arterials, facing traffic. In the early years, I sometimes had to work at calming myself because I was shaking with nervousness as I was about to enter a busy place.

One summer, I was directed to go to shopping malls quite often and visit numerous young women’s clothing stores and pretend to look for an outfit for my teenaged daughter’s birthday. I absolutely did not want to do this. I’m positive women in these stores had doubts about my motive.

I’ve been tailed by store personnel, given cold stares, and a few times, store personnel bee-lined to me to interact and head off what they likely perceived as suspicious behavior.

At a bar where I was instructed to frequent often one summer, the bouncer said there’d been a complaint and told me not to come anymore dressed this way.

I was instructed to return a few days later and challenge his authority. I’m a fairly compliant and cooperative person, and I did not want to confront the bouncer over something I was being compelled to do against my will. But my discarnate mentor would not let up.

The only way I could get the nerve to do this was to get a couple drinks in me first. Even then, I was ridden with anxiety when I approached the entrance.

Three times I went there, dressed like always, but I never saw the bouncer again.

Since this has been going on for nearly nine years, I’ve become a little more comfortable. The negative reactions have decreased, and the positive reactions, which were very infrequent in the early years, have increased to the point of being regular, especially among women.

On occasion women smile instantly when they see the way I’m dressed, and getting a lot of visual attention is normal. Sometimes women position themselves to get a better or longer look, and occasionally there’s short conversation and flirting. I do not shy away from these situations because I very much enjoy the attention. I really appreciate women who approach me or use body language that invites me to approach.

I’ve never used this to do a hook-up, however. Even if I tried, my mentor would thwart it. As I’ve mentioned before, though I’ve dated women on a few occasions, this program has prevented me from being in a relationship since I got divorced nearly fourteen years ago.

I’m reluctant about posting photos of myself because as you know, once on the internet, always on the internet. However, it’s part of the program.SONY DSC

SONY DSCI’ve explained why I’m doing these things, and if you missed it, a much shorter post, My Daily Stress, gives you the details.