Voyeurism and its Effect on the Common Pervert

Many young men view women as “sex objects”. However, few use their sexism as an eventual means towards respecting women as human beings. Irony plagues our lives in many different ways and my story is an excellent example. Little did I know that my own sexism and its ironic demise would lead me down my own path to maturity.
Before certain events from high school took place, I was no more than a stalky young lad who saw women less as human beings and more like “t & a” with legs. They could walk and talk, but these things were just tools to be exploited for an eventual means of intercourse. Luckily though, I was far from charming and never ruined anyone’s innocence but my own. Anyway, I will go on to said events.
My old chum Hef and I found it excessively thrilling to plant ourselves in situations of mischief. Our favorites usually included those where our eyes were exposed to some wonderful treasure in a naked female form.  I must say that I am rather ashamed by many of our expeditions.
Most young men are satisfied with the internet, stolen copies of Pent House, and the occasional late night trip over to God’s gift to exhilarated teenage boys, Cine-Max. However, for Hef and I, these things were simply for children. Of course, I meant that metaphorically. We needed something that provided a little more of a thrill, cheap as it was.
With disgust I look back on the time we first spied on Hef’s sister’s slumber party. We watched covertly from the tree branches outside the window of her bedroom. The truth is that there really wasn’t much to see, just some flannel pajamas and an excessive amount of giggling. In spite of this, we enjoyed our first step down the road of voyeurism.
We continued our dirty hobby with several similar “small jobs,” as we began to refer to them. We hid in the bushes at a classmate’s sweet sixteen pool party. Hef even managed to roll over and swipe a piece of cake when all the girls were passed out sunbathing. It was meek in comparison to the misadventures of others which we read online but we were building momentum.
Many other slumber parties came and went. The pool and the bikinis we once loved grew more boring with each visit. We longed for something greater, something a tad more daring. The two of us conversed on the subject and agreed to find the perfect gig. We scoured the internet hitting up every voyeurism site we knew. Finally, after many an endless night online, we both decided that the only way to satisfy this need was to find a way into the girl’s locker room at our high school.
Much preparation was necessary for an operation of such mighty caliber. We needed to analyze many different factors: which was the best period to attempt this, how would we get in unseen, how would we account for our absences from our own classes, which periods were better for us to miss. It was all very nerve racking.
The planning took weeks of mind-numbing preparation but both of us had grown quite skilled at gathering intelligence and eventually our strategy was near perfect. We would conduct our operation during first period. That way we could provide the excuse that I had slept in and was supposed to give Hef a ride this morning which resulted in our tardiness. We’d park the car at Wal-Mart and then walk to the school and use the back entrance to the hallway behind the gym. It was only supposed to be an exit, but we observed that the custodians would prop it open so they could have random smoke breaks during the school day without becoming locked out.
It took a while to figure out Ms. D-----, the gym teacher’s, schedule but we learned that Thursday mornings she had to walk her daughter to school because her husband had the night shift at the local pipe plant on Wednesday nights. This resulted in her arriving about twenty minutes later than usual. This gave us ample time to enter the locker room and find a hiding spot. This, the place where we’d commit our crime, was the only unknown variable. Neither of us had ever been in the girl’s locker room before. Also, it was added on during construction two years ago and, thus, didn’t resemble the boy’s at all. We both just agreed that if a suitable spot wasn’t located in the first five minutes that the procedure would be abandoned till a more airtight scheme could be concocted.
Thursday morning rolled around and everything went like clock-work. We parked at Wal-Mart and walked through the woods to the back entrance of the school. Hef suggested we take a commemorative picture of each of us about to pounce on our metaphorical prey. We were terrible people. As usual, there was a small chalk board eraser wedged between the door and the door way. A small inspection of the other side was made and we began our way over to the locker room. As we approached the door I could feel a knot in my stomach begin to form. I thought to myself, perhaps this is unethical but I figured I was just nervous at the possibility of being arrested and expelled and decided not to worry about it.
Luckily, the lockers in this particular locker room we full size and rather large, bigenough to fit a person anyway. Also, the room was poorly lit, and an individual could not be seen inside a locker without it being opened. This theory was tested, of course. Both of us located lockers without pad locks, which signified that they were not in use by a student, and climbed in. This was when the waiting began. All together we were probably only there for twenty or twenty-five minutes before anyone showed up to change but, for me anyway, it felt like a life time was passing before me. However, as I am sure you can imagine my heart was walking on air when a whole slew of pretty young ladies waltzed in to strip down for me. Well, I knew it wasn’t for me, but I was pretending it was. Yes, I know it is sad.
All in all the experience was enjoyable at the time. Hef and I waited a few minutes after the room was clear to ease our locker doors open. Suddenly though, someone else entered the lock room. We both sprang back into place and narrowly avoided being seen. I recognized her as an underclassmen but I didn’t know her name. All I knew was that she was constantly alone and always wore a very sad expression. This moment was no exception.
Her eyes were red and puffy as if she’d been crying and her hair was tangled and unkempt. She clung to her books as if they were the only thing around to keep her afloat in her own little sea of sadness. I had never seen a sight that made me feel so human. Automatically, I wanted to help her, I felt as if I had to care for her. When she began to undress I knew I shouldn’t watch but I could not take my eyes off of her. She had hypnotized me with her sadness. Each of her sighs was one more guarantee I was in her power.
She shivered and looked around every time she removed an article of clothing. It was obvious she was paranoid and did not want to be seen. I assumed this was why she was so late to arrive. However, I could not; no, I refused to understand why she was so shy. She was an extremely cute girl with little to nothing to be ashamed of physically. Why would she not undress in front of others? After abandoning her sweater she showed great resistance to removing her t-shirt, but the second that she did everything became crystal clear.
She had half a dozen scars across her back the size of a very thick belt. It was exactly like something straight from Roots. My heart instantly went out to this girl. It took every bit of control I had to keeps my sobs from alerting her to my presence. No longer did I care about being expelled or arrested; I just wished not to emotionally scar this girl any more than she had already been. Still, I could not pry my gaze from her as she finished dressing and scurried off to class. The instant she was out the door, Hef and I both bolted from our hiding spots to each other’s side. I could tell he was as disturbed as I was by what had transgressed. We waited until we were sure the coast was clear and headed to our own classes. Later we met after to school to talk. We decided to give up the voyeurism game for good.
Until that day I had never seen anyone, man or woman, nor felt myself more human. That was the day that I learned that everyone has feelings. We all feel happy, sad, angry and scared. That event led me to the person I am today; a person in a committed, stable relationship with a woman I love and respect. Ironically, it’s all because of the little pervert I formerly was.