“I asked if you’d like more cheese cake, dear.”“No, thank you,” she said, wiping her mouth. “I’m stuffed.”“Full,” Mom corrected. �...�Stuffing is what you just ate.” Again, that odd look at her dad. What was going on?Carefully holding her goblet, Elizabeth followed Mom and Dad into the family room, where Mom pointed at the coffee table. Elizabeth dutifully placed the glass on its wide bottom and sat on the couch, Dad sitting beside her on the right, and Mom on her left. She glanced between them. Itwas easy for me to get aroused when I touched their soft, delicate skinand beautiful long hair and felt their bodies react to my touch. Mylife as a "deepfake" became even deeper. But somewhere inside, Iunderstood that I could not go on like this forever. Death by overdosewas the most likely destination, and I felt terrified about my future.To save my sanity, I have tried to find my calling. Perhaps I couldfind happiness by occupying myself with something meaningful? But thatwas not easy as. More

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