Hidden Engagement



How many times have you stood outside the study door and pressed you ear against the door in the hope of hearing something? Many times I would wager. You press it closer and close your eyes as if shutting off one sense might just aid another. Is that our voice you can hear? It is difficult to tell as the frenetic and anxious beating of your heart causes the blood to roar in your ears and you cannot tell if that is us speaking in a low murmur, the sound of a television or the incessant hum of the technology on the other side of this portal. Are we speaking to someone or is that now the clack of the keyboard as our fingers glide across it? What is it that we are doing beyond this door? Your hand reaches out to the handle but you know that it is pointless. The door will be locked. It was not long after we began these night time residences in the study that a lock was fitted and you have never seen the key. The room is always locked when we are in it. The room is always locked when we are not in it. You have no access. You once went to find a ladder, determined to peer in through the window and see what lies within. Strange thoughts of witnessing bizarre experiments flicked through your mind, visions of some hybrid beast chained and caged, a monster yet to be unleashed, yet as you looked up you could see that the blinds had been closed. Once again we had out strode you.

Even if a locked door did not bar your access you know that as soon as you began to open the door we would appear at it, face filling the crack, bodyweight behind it preventing you from pushing it open any further, our suspicious face blocking you from seeing what lay within. We soon ushered you away, muttering about having important work to do. You made kind noises, suggesting that we worked too hard and inviting us to allow you ingress so you might massage our shoulders but your suggestion did not even merit a reply as the door was shoved shut once again. You shall not pass might as well have been etched on the timber.

Now you walk past, the cold blue light leaking from underneath the door, evidence of the technology at work inside. You always pause and contemplate what we could be doing. What is it that engrosses us to such a degree that we are preoccupied inside this place nearly every night, from after dinner until late. You gave up trying to stay awake for our eventual appearance in bed. Now, you awake in the night and find that we have magically appeared beside you, having soundlessly and lightly entered the room and climbed into bed. Occasionally you have debated looking for the key as we slept and trying to access our place of refuge but you have come to fear and dread the backlash from such clandestine behaviour as it as if we sleep with one eye open. We always catch you when you start to play us at our own game, with sneaking about and covert activities.

Truth be told you have no idea what goes on when we indulge in our night life. You may be told we are working or enjoying watching a film in peace, without the interruption of children, animals, telephones or you. There just might be a film on in the background but the only work that is being undertaken is of the plotting kind. We are busy tending to our growing kingdom of admirers as we flick between the first ‘phone, the second ‘phone and the computer. Technological tendrils radiate away from these devices as we scour the dating sites, pick up the previous evening’s flirtations with someone with an inviting user name and bat back and forth the messages with a new prospect on Facebook. Our inbox bulges with the fruit of our nefarious labours, the computer screen contains an array of different tabs and notifications as the world of social media lights up the monitor. Messages, emoticons and pictures cascade towards us as we drink up this fuel. We reply to text messages, plan arrangements to meet, indulge in sending sexual snares to capture a willing victim and requesting plenty of pictures to send to the hard drive which is attached to the computer. The heat from these exchanges would readily power the house for a week. You may hear a film but it will not be the latest block buster or some critically acclaimed production. Instead we will be staring glassy eyed at the naked figures which contort for out imagined direction. Our fingers grip the mouse and with each click we delve deeper and deeper into the vast array of pornography, our tastes becoming ever more extreme and dangerous. Some nights we might spend ten seconds watching one piece of footage before our eyes are drawn to a more enthralling thumbnail beneath which we dutifully click on. Then another and another. We watch everything but see nothing as we flit like a butterfly from one porn site to another, dancing across the categories, inserting our own searches as we seek that elusive hit that satisfies us. Our eyes widen as an e-mail arrives and we immediately open it, delighting in the messages we can see racking up on our ‘phones. We are gorging on flirtation, infidelity and voyeurism. Like a glutton we cannot get enough as we stuff ourselves with the fuel that flows from so many supply lines. As we do so our thoughts drift to you lying alone, no doubt wondering what we are doing and we allow ourselves a smile as we savour that drop of negative fuel, imagining your discomfort and loneliness.

It begins as an hour after dinner. Then two. Soon external appointments start to be discarded and avoided in order to make a return to the mothership and plug in to all of the waiting admirers in chatrooms, across the internet and in cyberspace. Soon the entire evening is given over to this pursuit and then it bleeds into the early hours until we are still sat wired and fuelled, clicking and surfing as the first rind of dawn can be seen on the horizon. This is our nightlife.


22 thoughts on “Hidden Engagement”

  1. So dark once again… i was told he was making a painting for me in the hidden, locked, secret room… a painting that I of course never saw…

  2. What a nightmare… What gets me every time is that these women must know better. They must work with others who have husbands that do not behave in this fashion. Friends, family etc. I do not understand now anyone could turn the blind eye on something so blatantly obscure and shady?

    1. ANN
      Exactly. Cant imagine someone putting a lock on an interior door or denying me access. Either he or I would be packing. I believe in privacy but if they need it to that extent theres a problem. I read a book yrs ago about a guy who stayed for hours in the garage. His wife was not allowed entry and had to use the intercom to speak with him. The freezer was in the garage and if she wanted something she had to intercom and he would get it for her. When he was arrested finally they found body parts in the freezer right next to the stew meat (if it actually WAS stew meat). True story. Now Im guessing she rethought that privacy thing later
      ( and is a vegetarian).

  3. Why would one even bother staying with someone like that? She is practically single.

    What if she gave him a taste of his own medicine, packed a small bag and left to stay with family or friends? He would not notice her disappearance until it was time for bed. Now, that would be a nice surprise, wouldn’t it? :-D. Phone turned off for a few days. That may teach him a lesson. And she surely needed some joy in her life!

    1. I left today only to be with another ex of mines for I didn’t have alot of choice he was refusing to get the money for the electric bill .and really cold here worse toworrow already didn’t have water. Am really kind of sad . For am not married to these mens I could go my family I really have none my mom she married and she said I could have spend the night but now ways over here and this place my son been staying since he got out of jail. I quess it be time to pay the piper in a mimute .they all want sex . Lord am so ashamed maybe I need to look for a shelter

      1. I cannot talk from experience here, but it might be a good idea to call your local domestic violence hotline in order to arrange for accommodation in a shelter. There is no shame in being a victim, and no shame in seeking help, Cynthia!! You made the first step by leaving (one)… and remember: ‘if you are going through hell, KEEP GOING’!

      2. As matilda advised, pls look for a shelter cynthia. There will be encouragement from us here too. If you are new here, then welcome. Please don’t mind the jokes in the comments section. We all like to joke around with HG. It helps us temporarily put aside the narc nightmare we are facing. Good luck and stay warm. 💗

      3. Hi Cynthia…the only shame here is that women as a species have had to resort to so many unhealthy methods of survival for… ever.
        If there is a lord, then the same one that has allowed you to be here on earth, has now allowed you to cry shame at this point for a reason…
        You were meant to live the life you did prior so that you would get to this point in time and place.
        Where you are now in your heart mind and soul…this is really a healing opportunity for you now that you have to take advantage of for you and all your past and future ancestors as well.
        yeah I know, it’s a lot to put on a person.
        So many lived and died this way with no answers and no hope of ever helping themselves let alone others.
        You just don’t realize the full extent of it yet but you sense a real need for changes from within yourself and have taken the first steps toward your next journey.
        The other ladies have given you some good advice.
        To stay where you are would be “familiar” to say the least, but will only serve to keep you from truly advancing toward that lost self respect.
        Your road will seem so long and so hard ahead of you…think back to how you found the strength each day to endure all your life…it will be as hard as that and some days so much worse…growing pains hurt…a lot.
        Be careful please, & do nothing you do not think is right to have to do in exchange for being where you are now, (temporarily?) You can honor “IOU’s…in another fashion.
        Do not barter with your soul and future self respect.
        Don’t get me wrong people, our Men have also been damaged by unhealthy methods of survival too…how do you all think we all get into this mess.
        Much respect to all.

  4. The men aren’t the only ones who behave this way. I know you think I’m shopping online, sweetie (and the packages arriving from Macy’s, Etsy, and everywhere else support that idea) and if you ask me what I’m doing online, I’ll say “What do you think of these shoes?” or “Do you think my sister would like that dress?” and you feign interest for half a minute & then go put the game on the TV (and I go back to what I’m really doing).

  5. Who knows what he’s doing in there. He could be moderating posts on a blog that he writes under a *gasp* pseudonym. **gives side eyes***

    1. PTSD,
      Can you imagine decoupaging with the devil?
      “no, no, no” as he mis-pastes an item…***poof in flames***

  6. Every time we were traveling, he would leave the hotel room to give me “space”. And he always would leave carrying his two phones with him…It all makes sense now. 🙁 HG, I have a question: what do you do with all material (pic, videos etc) you collect from your victims? Do you keep them for further manipulation? Thanks.

    1. Sometimes some of the material will be destroyed and filmed with the film sent to the victim to show them that they mean nothing. Other items will be kept for further leverage in the future.

      1. Did I hear you say film HG?

        With all joking put aside, I have a tremendous amount of attachment to Empath and Super Empath as my oldest Sibling of 5 is a potent fuel for me. Nevertheless, I have much interest for all the women/men taking courage to be themselves with honesty and integrity bringing forth in this blog. I did not know there was such thing quite frankly. Your emotions and “wanting” to fix things, approval, etc. Is quite educational. Thank you!

    1. Hi Elaine. LOL I actually was picturing a cartoon HG with horns, swearing as he cuts and pastes…and looses his patience. Thus, with a single finger point, like Christopher Walken in that movie, **poof** something in the room blows up into flames. (I have an active imagination LOL)


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