Isis story

Original von:

I am writing this from the perspective of a non-zoophile who's husband just came out to her a couple of months ago. I hope that reading about my experiences and swings of emotion will help anyone else who is in a similar situation.

When I first started reading and posting to ASBest, in January 1995, I was asking for help in dealing with this new aspect of my marriage and life. Everyone who wrote was very helpful, but no one had ever been in this exact situation before, and could not really understand what I was feeling. Some close and lasting friendships have developed as a result of my original post, but these friends are zoophiles themselves, and have never been in the position of being the "straight" partner on the receiving end of such news. As such, they could offer information on what my husband was going through, but could not truly empathize with me.

While my experience will of course be different from everyone else's, I feel it is important to start at the beginning, which will necessitate a bit of historical background on my relationship with my husband. He did not tell me all at once, rather, he eased me into it over a period of several years. This may not be the ideal approach, but it served us well in that I was not shocked suddenly into fleeing from a "madman", as may be the case in some situations.

The first time I ever heard of bestiality was in twelth grade. My future husband, (known on the group and at the Forest as Miami), told me that he had had sexual fantasies involving animals. At the time, I was intrigued. My curiosity was piqued. I wrote in my journal, "I want to know what he wants to do!... And with what species! " That was all the thought I ever gave it. I knew that fantasies were just that, fantasies, in which anything could happen. It did not seem odd to me that he wanted to be with animals, but neither did it make me want to think about or try it.

I can't remember the exact sequence in which he told me. Over the next several years, as we attended university, moved in together and eventually got married, he frequently spoke about animals, particularly horses, which he has always loved. I didn't find this strange, as I love cats and know people who are dog crazy, or whatever. The sexual aspect never once occured to me, despite what he had told me in high school. He loved to look at pictures of them, would practically run us off the road to stare at a "horsey" (or sometimes a whole herd of them), and loved watching nature shows, particularly the ones that showed real matings between almost any sort of animal. I didn't find this odd, as I am a bit prurient myself sometimes...

As we grew closer, he revealed other dreams and fantasies he had. Some, like the dream about us being lions and mating together, were wonderful turn ons for me. I don't judge people's dreams. They can't control what their mind does when they are asleep. Others, like a fantasy of us being horses struck me as odd, but not totally insane. After all, he found them sexy, and I certainly didn't mind being taken from behind like a mare while he bit my neck. I rather enjoyed it, and so did he, so I saw no harm in it and didn't find it suspicious. Even the fact that he wanted to fuck me on horseback didn't seem too strange to me. Impractical and uncomfortable, yes, strange, no.

Once, just after our marriage, we had been reading one of Nancy Friday's books of sexual fantasies, which had a zoophilia/bestiality chapter. He found that chapter fascinating, and I saw him reading it over and over, but I still never made a connection between that and anything he'd ever said or done. He asked me if I thought having sex with an animal would constitute adultery. This should have clued me in, but perhaps I was blind to something that was so "out of the question". I said I didn't think it was, because as far as I was concerned, it was just a bizarre form of masturbation. I thought what most people think, unfortunately, that only desperate people would ever have to resort to an animal. I figured horny teenagers with no other sexual outlet, or really gruesome looking adults who could not get laid any other way, would be the only ones who'd do a thing like that. I could not figure out why he was asking. He just said he was curious. We have hypothetical conversations like that from time to time, so I didn't think this was anything special.

I never found it odd that he would spend hours just visiting friends who owned horses, or going to the racetrack just to look at them, or going to the races but never betting, or biking for miles just to go to a farm on the far side of the bay. When he said he couldn't sleep at night, and would go for walks until two in the morning, I worried about him, but never once thought he was going to fencehop at the track and suck off a stallion. I just thought he was worried about school or work or us. He was a very skilled deciever, and I never, ever, ever imagined the truth.

When we got an internet connection late in 1994, I began to notice search strings for the group he read frequently, alt. sex. bestiality. I remembered what he'd told me in high school, but I thought he was just curious. After all, I read most of the alt. sex groups at least once, just to see what was out there. I didn't care in the least what he read, but he started getting very paranoid every time I walked by the computer. He'd stay up late at night downloading pictures I never got to see, reading stories I never got to read.

We began snapping at each other. I was angry that he was always on the Net, ignoring me. He was angry because I wouldn't give him any "privacy". We live in a tiny apartment, so privacy is impossible. I began to tease him about the search strings I kept finding, asking him what he was reading. I even said that I didn't care what he read, so long as he didn't try to hide things from me. That was the part that really hurt, that he didn't trust me. I didn't hide the stories or pictures I found erotic from him, so I reasoned, he should not hide his from me.

The situation worsened until finally, at the end of January, I said that I didn't like the fact that he didn't trust me. I was his wife and I deserved to be trusted and not snapped at any time I walked past my own computer desk. I knew he was switching from one task to another in Windows every time I so much as moved in the next room. He was becoming increasingly paranoid and harried, thinking I was spying on him when all I wanted was a glass of water or a snack.

Things came to a head one day as we prepared to go to bed. It was a weekend, and I wanted to make love. I had finally dragged him off the computer, and was still upset that he did not want to discuss the fact that he read ASB. He kept repeating, "If I don't tell you then you don't really know, " as if not telling me was a talisman that could save him... or us.

We held each other, and I stated my position that spouses should not keep secrets, that I would love him no matter what he told me, that I could not love a man who was not honest with me. I thought the matter would resolve itself in time, and I didn't want to start a fight when I felt like making love, so I dropped it, figuring he could mull it over and get back to me about it later, when he'd thought it out.

We went to bed and as we sat there, he told me that he had been reading the group, that he thought I'd hate him if I knew. I laughed and said I'd known since high school that he liked stuff like that, it was no big deal. "Just don't hide it from me" was my main message. Then he said the sentence that changed our lives.

"I mean, I haven't done half of what some of those people have done. "

"DONE? " I asked.

"Oh God. Open mouth, insert foot. " He laughed at himself, then hung his head, looking totally lost and defeated. "I didn't mean to tell you that yet. " He started to cry.

I was shocked and bewildered and hurt. My thoughts came flooding in, all mostly gibberish. "No wonder I usually have to convince him to make love. What's wrong with me? Doesn't he love me? Why? Why? Why? "

I didn't cry right away. I had to be strong for him. I held him as he sobbed, and told him over and over that I loved him. I wanted to know everything right away, what he'd done, why he'd done it, how it felt when he'd done it. I wanted to know everything, but I had to keep a reign on my curiosity until he was over his grief.

This happened on Friday, January 27. Two days later, I wrote in my journal...

"Sunday, January 29, 1995

The one thing I like about it (the Net) is that no matter what your interests are, there is a newsgroup somewhere discussing it. (Miami) likes that aspect too, and at first he kept trying to hide the fact that he was reading alt. sex. bestiality, even though I'd seen the search strings. For weeks he's been very uptight and angry if I even walked by the computer while he was using it, and finally I said we should trust each other and not hide things since we are married.

On Friday... he confessed that he was a zoophile. From reading the FAQ on a. s. b., I've found out that means a person who has an emotional attachment to the animals they have sex with. Bestialists just use them like whores apparently.

I've known since high school that he had fantasies like that, but I never knew how deep it went. He cried while he told me, and he said he had always been terrified of being found out and put in prison. In Canada you can get up to ten years. He said he'd lied to me and he needed my understanding, that he loved me and couldn't live without me. We've discussed it several times in the past three days, so I'm kind of condensing. Apparently he's never had intercourse with any thing but me, although he tried once. He's done something since we've been married, and that's why he asked me once if I thought it could be considered cheating. At the time I said no, because I figured it was just something you did when you got horny and had no partner.

He said he had an emotional attachment to them, and that they knew him and responded to him. The reason he was so upset when (a friend of ours) found out about him getting bitten by that horse was because he'd been doing something with it at the time. If I'd known that, I never would have said anything about it, but he said I also wouldn't have performed oral sex on him three days later either.

When we had our first talk, he was so upset all I wanted to do was comfort him. I couldn't imagine getting outraged, which is what part of me thinks I should do. He was trying to explain something, and he kept getting stuck, saying things like, "People like... God. People like US... " At that point he gestured to make a line between himself and me...

I want to cry... I felt so close to him because of what he'd told me. I felt like I finally really knew him.

He says that (his) instinct for giving pleasure is what lead him to do things with animals. He doesn't know why he does it, and has trouble remembering when it started, but he's been writing it all down so he won't forget. He's been using the computer at (work), and even though he's forgotten his wallet and keys, he's never forgotten the incriminating disk. For the past couple of weeks I've wondered why he's been so stressed. I blamed it on work, but it's likely because he's been hiding things from me, and worried that someone would find out things... I guess he'll be writing it here from now on. I want to know what he did and when, but part of me doesn't want to know. He keeps saying that he's the same guy he was last week, that nothing about him has changed, but everything is different now. I said I'd promised to love him, "till death do us part, forsaking all others, " but he hasn't honoured his vows, so why do I have to?

I wrote him a letter yesterday, mostly to make him feel better. Since he told me, he's been very matter of fact, just the way (my brother) was when he told mom he was gay. He said he's glad I'm asking questions and not just refusing to talk about it ever again. I can't help thinking that the more exposure you have to a perversion, the more normal it seems, and I'd like it if he'd stop reading a. s. b. because it's feeding his illness. I know that the more I read about threesomes, the more I want to try one, and I'm afraid it'll be the same way with him, that he'll actually try to fuck an animal again, and maybe succeed. If we ever do have a farm, how will I be able to trust him around the horses etc.? He's always wanted them, and now I know why. He insists he just likes to be with them, but that's like me saying I want a harem of sexy men just because I like to be around them.

Today he said he still wants to do things, even though we're married. He tried to reassure me by saying he'll always love me and would never prefer an animal to me, even though he said there are people on the net who only have sex with animals. I don't know where to draw the line. When do I get angry? When do I get sick and disgusted? ... Am I so desperate that I have to live with this? Oh Goddess, help me!

Why didn't I see the signs?

(Here, I listed 16 things that should have told me something was up...)

Why am I so stupid? He couldn't have given me more evidence if he'd tried. He said he's read of people who came out and had their lives ruined. I don't want to destroy him, because he'd hate me and I couldn't live with that, but I don't know if I can live with this either. "

That pretty much sums up my initial reaction. I am sure I'm not the only one who has felt that way... At first, I saw his zoophilia as an illness or perversion, as something that was wrong with him. As I have gotten to know the people here, however, that attitude has been erased. Zoophiles are just ordinary folks with an extraordinary desire. Many of them, like my husband, still have human partners. Some of those partners know, and some do not. Some of the people here have only non-human partners. It took me quite awhile to realize that there was so much diversity in the world. I am very glad I had the opportunity to find out.

I have also abandoned the idea that he breaks his wedding vows every time he's with an animal. It is not as though he would ever actually leave me for a horse. He has told me that if I forced him to choose, he would pick me in an instant. I hope I never get petty enough to force him into a choice like that. He has told me that what he feels for the horse he loves is totally different than what he feels for me. The horse fills a kind of spiritual void that I cannot. While I am saddened by the fact that I don't fulfill all his needs, I have come to realize (with the help of our new, zoophile friends) that there is no way for anyone to be all things to someone. I obviously don't have the right equipment to be a stallion for him! (grin)

His coming out actually made our marriage better, since all the pain we struggled through brought us closer. Even hearing what he had done with the animals made me feel closer to him, since it revealed a part of him that I didn't know existed...

"February 6, 1995

Last night (Miami) told me more of what he'd done with animals. He started out elaborating on what he'd done with (his dog). He had told me before that he'd jacked him off, but this time he told me why and how. Later, while we made love he told me that he'd let (the dog) lick him too. That would feel good. I feel perverted just admitting I think that. I asked him to tell me about more encounters, but he didn't want to so I let it go...

February 13, 1995

On Saturday, (Miami) and I were reading the posts on a. s. b. about female animals and whether or not they have clits. Of course they do, and so we were reading them mainly because it was funny. I asked why anyone would want to make an animal come, and (he) said it was mostly the thrill of being able to do that to something so sexually powerful. I can't remember exactly what lead up to it, but as we were leaving to go shopping he said he'd had oral sex with horses. Because of what we'd just been discussing, I assumed he meant with mares. I couldn't ask him any more about it because we were shopping and then at (a friends) for supper.

Before we went to sleep I reminded him of our conversation and then said, "But (the friends who own the stable) only had one mare and she hated you, or you said she did. "

"Oh she hated me alright. I never tried anything with her. " He turned and looked me right in the eyes. The only other horses they had were male. I was dying to know more, but he was evasive and said he was tired, so I didn't question him further until the next day.

On Sunday, I started asking him about what he'd done with (the stallion), and asked if he was afraid of getting caught. He said he always locked the barn door, and that made me wonder about the mess it would leave on the floor. I asked him about it, and he sounded kind of odd when he said just covered it with some straw. Then he said there was usually not much of a mess. He turned his head away as if he didn't want to look at me, and I knew right away why he sounded so odd. I got a sick feeling in my stomach, and it got very difficult to ask him what I had to know. The thought of anyone or anything cumming in anyone or anything else's mouth always makes me sick...

He kept getting angry and trying to tell me in round about ways. Finally he said he'd never had his "mouth around anything that had deposited anything in it". He also said he usually stood near the front of the horse as this was happening, then he said he'd tasted it. I was thoroughly confused.

The next part of the conversation was confusing as well, because he kept trying to tell me without actually telling me. Finally I told him just to say it in plain English. He looked me right in the eye, which was hard to do because I kept looking away, and said something to the effect of, "I saw it there and I wanted it and I went for it. " Just the way he spoke, or the image of him lunging for a huge horse cock spurting cum and putting it to his lips... I don't know what did it or why, but as soon as I looked him in the eye again, I had to have him. The most incredible wave of lust hit me, I've never felt anything like it before... I told him I wanted him, and he said, "Come and get me. "...

... we kissed and stared into each other's eyes. I started to cry with the emotion I was feeling. My heart swelled up and I felt so close to him. It was the way I'd always imagined sex would feel, or getting married, or any of the other life changing things one goes through. It was like all the pleasure and happiness and love and comfort and trust I'd ever felt all rolled up into one moment. It seemed to last a long time, but now that it's gone it was over way to soon.

He's sure it's because he trusted me so much to tell me this, but I'm not sure what it was. I just know that I'm so glad he told me. I know now that I can trust him completely with anything. I never have to be afraid again. He'll never laugh at me or think that anything I think or want is dumb. He really is my best friend.

He said last time he was home, he went to groom (the horse) as usual, since he'd been neglected for months. He spent a long time getting tangles out of his tail and mane, and whenever (the horse) got an erection he'd touch it until he pulled it back in. Later, he was just hugging him, and (the stallion) started cumming. I never knew they could shoot just like that. (Miami) said he wasn't even moving. He said he never told me about it because he didn't want to come across as a hypocrite. He kept saying that he didn't want to go home, or to the stables just to have sex, and that I shouldn't assume he's going to do something every time he goes there.

Since he told me he was a zoophile, I've been having fantasies about animals just to see if I could. I've been able to imagine being with dogs, but with horses there is still a mental block...

Finding out that my husband could do something so, well, bestial, was a real turn on. I had never seen him as a particularly passionate person, and this revelation did quite a bit to show me how he truly is. Our love life had always been nice, and comfortable, but not terribly passionate. As the days went by and he told me more of what he'd done though, things heated up considerably. It felt like a honeymoon for almost two months.

His stories of the things he'd done made me very curious at the time. Gradually, however, the novelty has worn off. I still think I might like to try something, but I don't imagaine I'll ever "fall in love" with an animal the way zoophiles do. It just isn't in my nature.

There is one important point I want to raise. When your spouse/lover/whatever comes out to you, you may feel obligated to join in their activities. You do NOT have to. The choice is entirely your own, and it is far better to wait a couple of weeks or months or years before doing anything if you are not completely and absolutely sure you want to. If you are not inclined to be a zoophile, trying things with animals may really upset your image of yourself. It may unbalance you emotionally if you are not comfortable with the idea. If your partner loves you, they would never, ever try to force you into anything.

If, on the other hand, you feel a true curiosity, and a real desire to experiment with new things, then by all means, do so. Just be sure you know what you are doing, and ask more experienced people for advice. At the very least, read the various FAQ's that circulate here from time to time, and read some of the true accounts so you'll have some idea of what to expect. Animals are nothing like humans when it comes to sex. They are far more single minded and not nearly as gentle as most people.

It has now been 93 days since my husband told me he was a practicing zoophile. Within that short time span, I have made dozens of new acquaintances, and more than a few true friends. I have learned that there is much more diversity out there in the wide world than I ever imagined possible. I have learned that my husband and the others like him are not monsters, not insane, not disgusting. I have even come to the defense of a zoophile I know only by name, when he was threatened and flamed on another newsgroup. They threatened and flamed me as well, but I still think what I said in my post to them was correct:

I am not a zoophile, but my husband and many of our friends are. They are all gentle, loving people who esteem their horses and dogs more highly than many people esteem their children. They do not believe in forcing, harming or tricking animals into sexual relations. They treat their animals with the utmost respect and love, and are sickened and saddened when they hear stories of abuse, just as you are.

You don't have to be a zoophile to love horses, and you don't have to be one to understand one. I love my husband, and I know that he is not a "pervert, a sicko, hard up, disgusting, ignorant, trying to get attention or in need of help. " He is a kind, gentle, loving, intelligent, hard-working man. He has a university education. He has a genius IQ. He does not drink or smoke or use drugs. He is a model citizen. I know he is decent and warm and caring, towards all living things. He is the kind of man some women only dream of meeting. I am extremely lucky to have him.

I am afraid that many of you are under the mis-conception that zoophiles are demented, warped, twisted people. I've met several dozen on the net, and I've yet to meet one I wouldn't invite into my home.

Before jumping on their backs, stop to think that they are real human beings, with husbands and wives, children and mothers. (And yes, many of them are open about their sexuality with their families and friends.) They are not red-necked hay-seeds with too much time on their hands. They are people who, for one reason or another, prefer to make love to animals. Some of them don't have human lovers, but many of them do. Some of them turned to animals in their childhood to escape the hatred they saw all around them in "normal" families. Animals don't hurt you, mentally or physically for no reason, like many people do.

If you still think of it as rape, please consider this (it is the fact that changed my mind when my husband came out to me only two months ago): zoophiles do not restrain their lovers - the horse/cow/dog/whatever is free to kick, bite, trample, gore, maim or otherwise damage the person. The fact that they choose not to shows that they are not distressed by the actions of the person. This is not the same as explicit consent, but it is a very convincing sign as far as I'm concerned.

I hope that this essay has helped some of the lurkers out there, who may be worried about their loved ones. To all the closet zoophiles, I open my heart (and my email box) if you feel the need to talk. I hope that if any of you decide to de-lurk, or come out to your family and friends because of this post, that you will think about it carefully. Not everyone will be swayed by my arguments. Not everyone will love and accept you for who you are. The decision is entirely up to you, but please consider all the possible outcomes first, not just the happy endings. There are very many UN-happy endings among the frequenters of this group too. My main purpose was to share my experience in the hope of helping others understand and come to terms with such a new and scary facet of their loved one's personality. I hope I have succeeded.

With love,

Mrs. Miami aka Isis