This is a true story about my youth, and there is some moral behind it.
When I was young, there was a boy in our neighborhood who liked to tell on everyone. I never understood his motivation. Maybe he thought telling on people was funny or made him powerful, or maybe he just thought being a male version of Candace (a character from "Phineas and Ferb" animation) was exciting! He never gained anything because no one took him seriously (that is, if we assume gaining something from telling on people is actually possible!).
There was nothing going on in our quiet neighborhood anyway. No one did anything worth telling except him! Whenever he did something bad, he tried to stop the others from telling his parents by threatening to tell some crazy embarrassing story (which he invented using his active imagination) about the people who had seen his actual deeds. He did tell some of those stories, but it led to nothing but laughter! Things became funnier when he thought he can scare people into obeying him by threatening to tell on them! He tried that on me, and that is where the story begins.
He was a little younger than me. My body had matured much more than an average girl of my age and especially my breasts were overgrown. I noticed that boys stared at my breasts sometimes, although nothing indecent ever happened. It wasn't a big deal and never bothered me. The only "sexual harassment" which I got was from that boy! He always joked about my breasts and even tried to touch them but I didn't let him. So, guess what was his solution: "if you don't let me touch them I will tell on you!" as I said, everyone knew he made stories and no one took him seriously. He did make some of his crazy stories about me, but again, that led to nothing but laughter! He asked me again and again to let him see or touch my boobs. I said no every time and he made a new story. After a while I became upset, not because he was telling crazy stories about me (which no one believed), but because I grew bored of his stupid game.
How could I shut him up? I began to think. I decided to teach him a lesson in order to change his attitude. How? By giving him what he wanted, but only, not the amount which he wanted, but much more than he could handle!
One day I was returning home when I saw him, he repeated … (you know what!). Before he finished his sentence, I said "okay, let's do it. Follow me to my house." I knew no one was home. He probably thought I was joking and followed me. When we got there I asked him to wait in the living room. I went to my bedroom, fully undressed and had a look at myself in the mirror. There was a thick bush down there, two savage jungles in my armpits and my legs and arms where quite hairy too. Despite having a grown woman's body, I still had a baby face. Put that face on top of that body and you will have a terrifying sight! I walked out like that to the living room. His jaws dropped and his eyes were shooting out of his head. There was no sign of sexual arousal, there was just terror and disbelief in his face. I stood completely naked in front of him and said "now, do anything you want with me". He just froze! For a minute, he just stared with that funny face and then he ran out!
Few days later, when I found him alone, I jokingly asked if he is interested in having sex with me and he replied "get lost you ugly hag!" that was the only time in my life which I enjoyed being insulted!
I guess that taught him a lesson. He never harassed anyone like that and quit his snitching habit as well, even when I had offered him something real to tell on me! I just hope I didn't scare him too much and he is not afraid of women anymore.
So, what's the moral in this story? I think many grown men and women are acting like that little boy; they only use more complex and adult covers. They tell lies, play with other people's emotions, harm or ignore those who actually love and care about them and … in order to get in bed with some hot chick or guy. When they achieve it, it doesn't make sense anymore. It becomes boring after some time and they move on. Their dream person turns out to be an "ugly hag" (if not on the outside, then on the inside) or a Barbie which becomes boring after some play. But sadly, unlike that boy, they never learn their lesson. They just move on to find another target. They get what they wished for, but become disappointed when they do so, then they make a new wish, and this goes on. Isn't it better to stop and think what we are trying to achieve in our lives?