it started on monday morning, and by today, his birthday, he floated in her fluid without the last thing that would’ve made him a man. he woke up on monday morning unable to hold any thoughts of arousal – the pictures of the bound, unconsenting children and women on his subconscious, his nightly and morning sight rituals couldn’t rouse him. on wednesday, his thyroid cells at the very back of the base of his tongue were gone. just last week he had felt them travel downward along the midline of his neck until they arrived low in his neck just above the breast bone. he even felt them grow into the butterfly shaped gland – but on wednesday they were gone. his voice had been hoarse in the morning, but by midnight he had no voice. on friday, he woke up without his seed-bags – not shrunk, not torn apart, just gone. today, sunday he floated in her fluid – sexless. it wasn’t a dream. he was man no more. he shut his eyes and the visions returned. this time, the familiar voice wasn’t laughing as the formless female forms begged and screamed in pain. this time, the familiar voice was the one crying – release me. the visions dissolved, as if into the sepiac fluid. that would be the last time he saw or heard anything, but the wailing familiar voice – his preincarnate voice.
then he was born – incarnate. pedo file status: sexless.