Salvation
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Salvation free porn video
Salvation
(Sorry for the spelling and grammar mistakes. I am not perfect. Most
readers have patience; others think the story sucks if there are
mistakes. I do try though.)
We can all remember a time, when things were like Utopia. When life was
so good, we never thought about being sad. For me this was when my Mum
lived here. Then we were a family.
Mum was the happy one in the family. She was always cheerful and making
pies and things. I know this sounds a bit corny, but that's the way
she
was. At least that's the way I remember her. I remember when she read
me bedtime stories and tucked me in bed. She would always smile and say
I was sweet.
?
Then we have my Dad. He was always trying to teach me sport. He used to
come home with toys that all boys would love to have. You know, like
racecar sets and football game and playstation 2. I would jump up and
down when I seen them, but it always ended that Dad played the game
more than I did and I would play with My sister. Her toys were far more
fun and she didn't mind if I used them. In fact she encouraged it.
?
That was my sister. She was 3 years older than me, but I think that she
considered me her little sister. The old family story goes that she
used to tell Mum when I was in her stomach that I was a girl, and when
I was born she could see I was a boy, but she was not sad, she just
said that I had long hair for a baby and I could be her baby sister.
Mum tried and tried to tell her that I was a boy. After some time, my
sister accepted it. Well somewhat.
?
She still dressed me in her old clothes and we played with her toys. I
will not be like others that write stories, and say that I was a girl
in a boy's body. I was not. I was simply a boy that played that he was
a girl once a while with his big sister. I do admit that I loved the
pretty dresses and felt like a girl with them on. I was young, I didn't
know the difference. But I loved playing with my sister.
?
It is said when we miss a person, we only think about the good times
together. Life when we were a family was a time of happiness. A time of
smiles and laughter. Then when I was 7, tragedy entered my life. Mum
got cancer. I didn't like that Mum was sick. I would always ask her to
play or if we could do something together. Mum knew that I was
confused. She spent as much time with me as possible. I heard people
say that Mum didn't have that much time left, that she would die. At
that age, I didn't know what death was. Death was something that just
happened to older people. It wasn't supposed to happen to my mum that
was so beautiful and young.
?
Even as the Cancer was eating at her, and Mum started to loose weight
and look all skinny like a skeleton, I always remembered her as
beautiful.
?
I remember once that Mum was in bed. She was tired and very sick. I
didn't really care. I wanted to be with her. I told her I could make
her beautiful. I started putting make up on her face. I was quite good
at this, because I did it so often with my sister. I showed Mum what
she looked like in the mirror. She smiled and started crying saying
that she never felt so beautiful as she did now. Then I started
putting make up on myself. I rushed into my sister's room and put on
one of her old Church dresses and white tights. It was a white frilly
dress with a pink ribbon. Needless to say she always hated it. When Mum
seen me in it, she laughed and said that she should have bought the
dress for me, " Her sissy son," Come to think of it, this is the first
time that I heard the word sissy.
?
Mum spent most of her last time with me. Looking back, I think that Dad
made her think that she was dying. He would ask her about the funeral
and things like that. He would feel sorry for himself and would curse
life. My sister would also just cry. Sometimes she would sit on the
end of the bed and just watch Mum and me play. My sister understood the
situation much better than me. I think that when I was with my
mother,
it was not about her cancer. It was about enjoying the moment. Mum felt
like a mum; she felt alive. I didn't know that my Dad was jealous
because I was spending more time with Mum. As I said, I didn't know any
different, and Mum did feel more alive when I was there.
But she died.
Life would never feel the same again.
Act II
Changing times After Mum died, everything changed. The only thing that
was the same was my sister. She loved me, as I was the only thing that
was left in her life caring about.
?
On the other hand, Dad seemed to ignore me. The jealousy that he felt
when Mum was in her sick bed and used most of her last days with me was
just too much. I don't think that Dad hated me at this stage. I think
that I reminded him too much about Mum.
?
The same was with my sister. I remember that I looked at a family
picture. It was then I realized that she looked like Mum. She has the
same eyes as Mum. When she smiled, she looked like Mum. I don't know
if this made me have a closer connection with my sister, or was it just
because we had it all the time? The first fall out I had with my Dad
was Saturday a month after Mum died. I was so bored. My sister was
playing with her friends. I tried to ask Dad should we play something
and he just grunted something. He obviously thought that I was
invisible.
?
So I turned on TV. There were all children's shows. I liked some shows
like The Little Mermaid and Care Bears. I would normally look at these,
but today something caught my eye. It was ballet. I was just staring
at
the way they danced. It was so graceful. The men wore tights and
soldier jackets that looked a bit funny. Then again, I wore tights
before. I wondered if I could do ballet and look just as pretty as them
on TV. Then Dad started getting mad.
?
"What is it that you are looking at? Some puffy faggot Ballet? Is that
what you think is fun? Do you like looking at men with tights on and
acting like a pack of queers? You do know that all Ballet men are
Queer?"
"How do you know?" I asked confused. Dad was using a lot of words I
didn't even know. I was just looking at some people dance, and I
didn't quite understand what he was on about. He just stormed out and I
continued watching ballet.
?
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew was Dad was
screaming at me again.
"What? Wake up and answer me! Look at what you have done. You have wet
yourself! Is the toilet too far away? Look at your clothes! What are
you, a baby now?"
I felt embarrassed as I realized that I did wet myself. I fell asleep
when watching ballet and didn't know that I peed myself. I stood up
while Dad abused me with words and changed my clothes. Deep down I
believed what he said. I just peed myself. Dad only thought that babies
wet themselves. Deep down, I thought I was a baby.
That was life with Dad now. Every time he seen me, he would get mad and
call me names such as girlie or baby. He never smiled at me or
anything
like that. He never asked me if I had a good day. He was like a stone
with me, or some military sergeant, that just screamed and yelled all
the time. I didn't mind, because my sister was there to give me a hug
after he was so mean. She just said that I reminded him so much of mum,
and that he was jealous that I used so much time with her before she
died.
Sometimes my sister was not enough. Once I was playing with my sister.
We were playing the game we always did, where she would dress me as
her
little sister. It was usually one of her old summer dresses and
panties. Then she would put my hair in ponytail or something else. We
would just play with her old dolls and toys. For me, this was the
happiest times in my childhood. I would feel like a sister and escape
the world without a Mum and a dad that always got mad at me.
Of course one day, Dad caught me playing the little sister. He was
outraged. My sister kept telling him that it was just a game, but she
was told to go down and start dinner. Then he looked at me, and I knew
it was time to be called many names.
"What do I see here? My son is dressed as a girl! You are one weird
boy. You are just a sissy, and that is one thing this world can do
without. What am I to do about you? How am I going to make you normal?
You might as well stay in that dress if you want to be a girl."
"I don't want to be a girl!"
"Then look in the mirror."
It was like I couldn't do anything to please my Dad. He just always
yelled and me. He would never smile and it looked like his eyes were
red as the devils. Around this time, I started wetting the bed. I think
it had something to do with mums death, but who knows. Instead of
taking me to the doctor, Dad would get so mad and say I was a baby and
all that. To tell you the truth, I was sad around him. I really missed
Mum.
It was a week later when one of my friends Michael asked me was I still
sad about Mums death, It was when school was over and Dad usually
picked me up later, as if he nearly forgotten me. I told Michael what
life was like at home. I said I don't know how I would survive if it
was not for my sister. I didn't tell her that we placed as sisters.
Some things are too much information.
Then he gave me a hug and told me that he liked me more than a friend,
and he would pray for me. The hug was a long one, and I felt confused.
He liked me more than a friend?
It didn't matter, the next thing I experienced was my father taking my
arm and dragging me back to the car. I was waiting for him to say
something and call me names like he always did. The only thing he said
was:
"So now you have a boyfriend. A few weeks ago, we were invited to a
house. It is a group of people that believe in God and have made their
own cult where they can live as Jesus and do, as he wanted. We are
packing and we are going there. I think that they can sort your strange
personality. In this house, you cannot be a girl, have a boyfriend or
be a baby"
Act III.
God is on holidays
It was the first evening in the house. It was like a little hotel where
lot of families lived. Father Steve that thought God spoke directly to
him and he was a new prophet ran it. Everyone else believed it,
otherwise, why would they be here?
The first evening we were in a prayer room. We said a load of prayers.
I thought if I was God, I would fall asleep. We just mumbled and
mumbled.
Then he said welcome to my family. I smiled and thought maybe this cult
would make Dad smile again. Then Father Steve called me up to stand
next to him:
"My fellow people, this boy are troubled by many demons. I have had a
long talk with his father that told me that this boy annoyed his mother
so much when she was dying, that she had no strength to live. He also
dresses in girls clothes and plays like a sissy. A few days ago, he
was seen by his father giving another boy a hug. To make things worse,
he wets himself often. I am convinced that demons are controlling this
boy. It will take our prayers and hard decisions from his father to
make things better."
I was crying. The prophet said I was to blame for mum's death. He also
said that I had demons in me.
This was also too much for my sister. The next day when we woke up,
there was a letter.
Dear family
I will not live here where people are so mean. I will not live at a
place where my father lets some priest say that my little brother is
possessed by the devil. I will not live with my father that does not
show his love for everyone in the family.
I love my brother. He reminds me so much about Mum. He is not afraid to
show himself. He does not wear dresses because he is a sissy or gay.
He
wears them because he thinks its funny. I love him for who he is and I
hope this place does not destroy him.
Now I was without my sister, when I read her letter, I started crying.
What was I to do? She was the only one that knew how I felt. She was
the only one that I could get support from when Dad was being mean, Now
she's gone to live with my aunt. She went without me!
After she went Dad became even meaner. He loved to call me sissy and
baby when someone else was listening. He made me wear diapers all the
time because I started wetting more, even at daytime. Around him, I
felt like a little Baby.
I didn't go to the same classes as the others my age. Dad said I could
go to the nursery until I learned how to grow up. I cried when he said
that I would be going to the nursery. The first day was extremely hot.
Dad said that babies only wear diapers when it was hot. So crying and
with a pacifier in my mouth, he took me to a room in the house that was
used as the nursery. Eventhough my head was hung low, I could see the
other children that were going to a normal school look at me and
whisper or laugh.
Other days, I had to go to the nursery in a short baby dress. I think
Dad wanted to drive the devil out of me. Or he just wanted to
humiliate me.
Act IV
Forced to Salvation
I was now dressed fulltime as a girl. I was now a baby girl. I had
diapers, pacifiers, and crib. I also had as many dresses as any other
girl. Mary Jane shoes, leggings, blouses. Dad even forced my hair as a
girl.
I was not a sissy. Before I only wore my sister's clothes just to play
with her. I liked my boy clothes. I only felt like a girl when I was
playing her sister. Not when Dad made me dress as a girl, and a baby
girl at that.
One day I was sitting watching TV with a light blue summer dress on.
Dad invited all his religious mates to drink a beer.
"Look at him," Dad said, "or her. I make him wear dresses. He even has
a diaper on. It is good that I can dress the devil as a sissy baby. I
know he is my son, but I really hate him. Wait until I make him play
outside with slut girl clothes, or just a diaper. I love humiliating
him."
This was the first time that I heard my Dad say it. He hated me. All he
wanted to do was to humiliate me and make me more and more into a baby
and sissy. It was like my heart stopped when I heard my own father
say
he loved me. Before he loved me, and now he hated me. I thought also
that he would take me down town just in a diaper or dressed as a girl.
It was humiliating and I will not do it. I did not want a Dad that
hated me.
Me heart felt like it was dead.
My mind went blank.
Slowly I stood up. I walked into my dad's room; I opened his drawer and
took his gun. I could hear him shouting and telling me to come back.
They were not ready talking about me.
I came into the sitting room. I pointed the gun at him. The other men
hid behind chairs and sofas. Dad just stood there. Deep down I wanted
him to reach his hands out for a hug. He just stood there like stone.
There was no love in his eyes. Maybe he was possessed by the devil.
I shot 3 times
I was now an orphan.
Act V
No story is a fairytale in real life.?
Here I was in the lake. I tied a stone around my leg and jumped in. I
wanted to be with mum.
How did I get here? After I shot Dad I was arrested. I had to go to
court. Everyone felt sorry for me. I was abused by Dad and made to wear
girl clothes. Because I wore diapers so long, my bladder was very
weak.
So the doctor told me I would have to continue wearing diapers and
exercise at the same time so my bladder would work.
I was not sent to prison or any children's home. My aunt said that she
was taking care of my sister and she could also take care of me. The
court agreed and said I could live with my aunt and get some
professional help at the same time.
I thought things would be great now. I would be living with my sister
now. The only problem is that she hardly talked to me. She would always
tell me to go away, because she was on MSN. When she wasn't on MSN,
she
would say that she had no time for me anymore.
Then I tried to wear her old clothes, so we can play sisters again. She
didn't even notice this. I was going to beg her to play with me until
I
read what she just written on MSN. She wrote, "I know that Dad was a
moron and I know that my brother was sad because he was treated like a
sissy. But I hate him because he shot my Dad."
After that, I walked out the door. I didn't care who seen me in a
dress. I went down to the lake and tied a stone around my leg. I jumped
off a place where others usually dived. Everything was so blue down
there. I was dying.
Then I saw my Mum. She was an angel. "Don't give up," she said, "I know
how much you suffered because of your father. I know that you think
your sister hates you now. After you read that she hates you to her
friend on MSN, she also wrote that's not true. She just was afraid that
you would be taken away from her and she missed you a lot. So have
courage my son. Play sisters once in a while and be proud of who you
are. You can do great things in this life. Have courage. I am always
with you."
I tried swimming up to the surface, but could not manage it. The stone
was too heavy. Then I could see Mums hand and I held it as she helped
me up to the surface.
I was lying down on the side of the lake when some ambulance men were
trying to make me breath again. I started coughing and gasping for air
as this worked. The last thing I remember before they drove me to the
hospital was that my sister hugged me.
Geraldine
- 04.06.2021
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