Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
On the run into a new future…part 01This is my first story in English, please do not be too strict with me.Only in the beginning it is a rather dark story.Please let me know what you thought about it. And enjoy it.I saw the fist coming at me. Blam! Another hit and another one and another one. They kept coming. My face red, tears rolling down my cheeks, my body shaking and curled up trying to protect itself but it didn’t work. My Father’s hand kept my hands in place while the other one kept coming at my face. He was drunk again, way too drunk. I was crying, begging, pleading him to stop, but he didn’t. My mother stood behind him yelling and screaming trying to pull him off me but he kept pushing her to the floor. “Shut up bitch!” he yelled at her, “Shut the fuck up!” Another blow on me.You’re probably asking yourself what’s going on. Let me tell you. My name is Stephanie, I was 18 years old when this happened. I was born as a boy but always felt like a girl. I always dressed up in pink dresses, tank tops, bras, stockings, thigh highs, ballerinas, you name it. I felt much more comfortable in girl’s clothes than boy’s clothes. I wore them at home and I wore them to school. There was no one in school who knew I was a transgender except for my best friend Janet. Naturally, gaziemir escort since no one knew, I was a virgin but Janet kept everything a secret and supported me all the way through.So did my mother. My mother was 35 at that moment, and her name is Daniela. She gave birth to me at the young age of 17 and to be able to take care of me she stayed with that man. She managed somehow to get through college while having me and taking care of me and got a good, well paid job which was incredible. She loved me with all her heart and I loved her with all my heart. She caught me in her room checking out and trying on her clothes at a very young age. Of course they were way too big back then. We had a talk and when I said I loved to dress in girl’s clothes she accepted that and she bought some for me. That was the first step of our close relationship. She bought more, taught me how to wear make-up, how girls act and so forth. She even helped me start hormone therapy. I grew breasts and my masculine features kind of disappeared. She then asked me what I wanted to do with my penis. Did I want to have a full sex change or not? I didn’t want to, I wanted to keep it. I didn’t really know why, but it just felt like the right thing to do. She gaziemir escort bayan accepted that too.Then there was my father. I never called him dad, I hated him. My mom told me he has always been a bit aggressive and on top of that he hated gay people and transgender people. He thought they were a freak of nature that had no place in society. They had to be cast out. Now at the time I didn’t know if I was gay or not. Dressing up as a girl didn’t automatically mean you were gay, but I was a transgender and that was enough. When he found out he was furious. He hit me, he hit my mother, called us names and started drinking. Now him being mad is one thing, but him being drunk was something else entirely… and he was drunk a lot. He would go on a rampage. He would break things in the house, he would throw things at me and he would break me down. Every day was the same, hands, fists, books everything he could hit me with he did. He said I was worthless, a freak, that I deserved to die. He made me insecure, shy and at some points he made me hate myself. Then when he found out I was on hormones he lost it. He started hitting my mother the same way he hit me. He told her she betrayed him by making me look like a slut, like a skank. My escort gaziemir mother cried, I cried, but he didn’t stop. And then one day, he went too far.Another blow. “Ow! Stop, please stop!” Nothing, he just kept going. Pressed against the couch there was nothing I could do. I saw my mom crying on the floor yelling at him to stop. Nothing worked. “Come here slut.” He ripped my tank top off, revealing my black bra. I screamed. I tried to kick him, to break my way out of his grip, but he was too strong. His hand squeezed my breast through my bra too hard. “Ah, that hurts,” I tried to kick him again, “get off of me.” Pieces of clothing flew through the room. He had ripped half my bra off, revealing one breast. He dug his fingernails in my flesh. Pain shot through my body. My mother screaming louder now, crying more than I did.He spun me around on all fours, held my hands on my back and began unbuckling his belt. I heard it hit the ground and he ripped off my skirt and panties. Screams, tears. I felt something against my butt crack. With his other hand he grabbed my hair and yanked it hard. “You wanna be a bitch?” He yanked my hair again. I yelled, tears running down my face, I tried to break free but I couldn’t. “Well then get fucked like a bitch, you fucking whore!” He placed himself against my entrance. “Nooo! Please don’t!.” This was it. My life would be over. He had degraded me in every way possible and now he would violate me. My insides would be torn, I would bleed, he would have complete power over me.Then I heard a thump.To be continued……
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
