Sophie
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Sophie free porn video
1
I discovered this place three years ago, an abandoned road that was
currently used by local farmers and me with a parking area and nature
path just eighteen miles from the town. A wonderful piece of wild nature
with a possibility to walk a well arranged path, one and a half miles to
the bridge over the stream, two hundred yards and another bridge back and
again one mile through the woods back to where I had parked the car. And
the most important part of it...there were no people. During the last
three years that I had been coming here every week, I'd met other
visitors just four times, exchanging nods with them in passing.
It was a remarkably sunny day of spring, the Wednesday before Easter.
Birds flitted among the trees and bushes announcing new birth. The snow
had withdrawn almost completely, just on some northern scarps and slopes
were left the last reminders of departed winter. I walked up a light
incline on a trail enjoying every sound, every shaft of sun light and
every breath of clean fresh air. The path then sloped down to the quite
decayed wooden bridge. And there it was - a wonderful glade with some
benches on the southern side of the stream, the place to relax and enjoy
the sun, the birds and stream's babble. Weather was warm, maybe seventy
or such, and sitting on the bench facing the sun it became even hot,
causing me to take my jacket off.
The flow of the stream was slow there and it seemed like a good place for
bathing and swimming. I myself was fooled by it few years ago when I'd
decided to bathe one hot summer day. The bottom of the stream appeared
to be sand but it was really sludge almost three feet deep. When I tried
to rebound from the bottom, my feet were bogged down in the sludge and
every movement caused me to sink into it deeper and deeper. I was able
to save myself only by using my arms to let me swim forty feet downstream
till I reached the gravel bottom. In any case, the water was still too
cold; I guessed no more than forty-five degrees, for swimming.
I noticed something unusual, unusual at least for this place, a spot of
bright colors. It was a girl in a blue shirt and yellow skirt cycling
down the path in my direction. Then everything happened very quickly but
I saw it like in a slow motion movie. The bike's front wheel stuck
between the planks of the wooden bridge and the girl somersaulted into
the water. I jumped to my feet the moment the girl sank into the water
and I jumped into the stream.
"Don't stand on the bottom!" I shouted to her.
"Put your arms around my neck!" Once she was attached to me, I turned
over on my back, keeping her head over the water and just let the stream
to bring us to the place where the bottom was good to stand. We
scrambled up the stream's bank and rushed to the bench near the bridge
where I had left my jacket.
"Thank you," she mumbled quietly.
"You're welcome," I said.
She appeared to be about fifteen years old, slender and about average in
height. I couldn't get a clear view of her face because it was shrouded
by the hair that had been turned to tangles by the water. From what I
could see under her brown hair, she had a round face and a bit of a
pronounced nose. She seemed to be avoiding looking up at me.
I knew that the cold water would be chilling her and that she needed to
get dry quickly. "Turn around and raise your hands."
She did as I directed and turned her back to me. When I went to pull her
sopping shirt off and then unbuttoned her skirt, she pulled away from me
and covered herself. I realized that I was just acting without thinking
of how she would react.
"It's alright, child," I said. "We need to get you dry before you are
too chilled. You could become ill. I'm not here to hurt you."
She hesitated, but she shivered almost immediately and nodded jerkily.
I finished the process of pulling off her skirt and helping her to remove
her shirt. When I pulled her panties down, she shied away again until I
told her to step out carefully. I kept my eyes averted to respect her
modesty, but I knew that I needed to at least get her dry.
I found an unopened packet of paper handkerchiefs in the pocket of my
jacket and handed her a couple of them. I used a couple more to dry her
back and saw some bruises across her shoulders that could have been
caused by falling off the bike, but they also did not seem to be new.
I wrung her clothes out and then put one handkerchief together with her
panties to make them dry and gave them back to her to put on. I helped
her to put my jacket on and sat her on the bench facing the sun.
I needed to wring out my clothes a bit as I was starting to get chilled
myself.
"Don't button it up," I told her, "let the sunshine warm you. And please
don't turn around while I wring my clothes."
I undressed, wrung my clothes out as tight as possible and put everything
on again. I could put on just my pants, but I can't be outside my home
without a clerical collar.
"Where are you from?" I asked.
"Werner's farm," she said. I knew the place she referred to. It was a
flower farm almost two miles from where my car was parked. The farm was
owned by a widow named Hanna Lora Werner. She supplied our Lutheran
church as well as another smaller catholic church with flowers every
week.
"But Hanna Lora has no children," I said.
"She's my Aunt; she's my dad's sister."
I knew Hanna Lora had an unfortunate brother but I hadn't met him. I
knew that his wife left him ten years ago but I did not have a clue that
he had a daughter. It was rumored that he was drinking some.
"What's your name?" I asked because a name made someone less of a
faceless entity. I also had the sense that this young lady was afraid of
people and it would help to establish a sort of friendship between us.
"David," she whispered.
"A very strange name for a girl," I said.
"I am... I was... I was born a boy," she said quietly. I could see now
why she was so quiet. It was as if she expected me to scorn her.
"I see just a girl," I said, "and I don't care what you were when you
were born."
"My dad says I'm a pervert. He says God hates me. He doesn't allow me
to be a girl at home." Her voice was toneless, almost lifeless.
"Nonsense," I replied, "God is all love while hate is evil. OK, let's
this discuss later. Can you walk?"
"Yes, sure, I can."
"I still don't know your name. By the way, I'm Lucas Goss. So what's
your name?"
"Sophie."
"Sophie... It's a lovely name. Have you chosen it by yourself?"
"Aha..."
"Well then... Put your skirt on and let's go." We went back to the
bridge and I pulled out her bike. The front wheel was crooked so I
needed to hold the bike's front up to let it travel on the rear wheel.
It took us a half an hour to reach my car. I managed to get the bike
into the trunk and we drove to Werner's farm.
The farm wasn't a big one compared to other farms. Thirty acres wasn't a
lot if corn was grown, but it was a flower farm and this was time of year
tulips and jacinths were blooming. The view of equal sectors of a half
an acre of bright clear color ranging from light blue through yellow to
deep purple each was really stunning. The farmhouse was on the distant
edge of the plot, it was a traditional double-decker similar to most of
other farmhouses in this parish.
I stopped my car beside a group of other cars in the courtyard and we got
out. Hanna Lora looked a bit surprised to see me, but she looked
frightened when she saw our clothes were wet.
"What happened to you ... both?" It was obvious to me that she was
concerned about what I might feel and what I had to say about Sophie.
"It was a God's will for me to meet your niece by this special way," I
replied. My friendly smile and words let her know that she had nothing
to be concerned about. "We both are alive and I hope we'll be healthy.
You should let Sophie change her clothes or she might catch cold though."
"Oh! I'm sorry! Sophie, run upstairs and get a hot shower. Lucas, there
is another shower on the ground floor so why not to get it."
Wednesday was my day off, I was chilly and I wanted to talk with Hanna
Lora and Sophie. "Thanks. It's very kind of you," I said.
She led me inside. "Put your wet clothes on the floor and I'll take them
to the dryer," she said.
I took my clothes off and stepped into the shower letting the stream of
hot water to wash the chill out of me. It was very odd to take a shower
away from home, especially in the house of a single woman. I was odd
myself. For the last three years I was a second pastor in the Lutheran
church in the town where I lived now.
As a pastor, I was supposed to have a family. It wasn't a crime to be
single though. The pastor himself and his wife were arranging some
special parties at their home to find me a match. So far, I wasn't ready
or there was no real match. Sorry. There had not been a party that
Hanna Lora had attended. It made me wonder why not? She was single. She
was thirty-five while I was forty-two. She was attractive and
intelligent. And now I had an opportunity to have a talk with her. I
turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. There was a navy
plush terry robe and plushy slippers left for me.
Hanna Lora and Sophie were already waiting for me in a sitting-room with
a table set and a fireplace lighted up.
"Your clothes smelt bad so I put them first into a washer. They will be
clean and dry in three or four hours. Is that OK?" Hanna Lora asked.
"I'm thinking that it is or what I should do if it's not OK?" I replied
with a grin and I noticed Sophie giggling.
"Sophie's told me everything about how you've saved her life and what
you've said to her."
"To tell you the truth, it's not me. I'm just His implement," I said.
I didn't want to represent myself as excessively humble though I really
did feel I was being led by the fate. I've seen more than once in the
past that what seemed as a coincidence appeared to be a part of my
edification and always for my own good.
When I was a kid living at foster home, no one wanted me for adoption so
I grew up in a Lutheran foster home. That led me to decide to attend a
Lutheran college. As a student at college, followed by doctoral studies
at the same college, I got to know Mark Lorentz. We were roommates in
the college dorm. The next time I met Mark, it was twelve years later at
a conference and he was seeing me as a wreck. An office pastor without a
parish, he remembered me three years later when his parish was approved
for a second pastor and he called me to join him.
I'd gotten to know Hanna Lora in the time I had been here. She had been
in a car crash in her first year of marriage. Her husband was killed and
she lost the baby she had been pregnant with. Her injuries also meant
that she lost the ability to become pregnant again.
Her brother Walt was a boor and he had married the same year as she. Two
years after David's birth, his wife left him for a drug dealer and as
police had reported that she was killed a year later. David was spending
all of his vacations at his aunt. When he was eight, it had become clear
that he was dressing as a girl. His father accused him of pretending.
Sophie was accepted only by Hanna Lora and some her neighbors. Walt had
refused to accept this. Apparently, the bruises over Sophie's back were
left not by the accident with her bike today but by her dad's belt.
Sophie had never ridden her bike so far from the farm before, as she said
that she had been lost in thought and only came back to herself only as
she was speeding downhill to the bridge.
What I'd put into a few sentences had taken us more than four hours, so I
was allowed at least to put my clothes on and could head home to my one
bedroom flat in the loft of the parish house.
2
What was life in like in a town of ten thousand people? Everyone knew
everyone else by reference to someone one did know personally. Sometimes
it was good and even perfect. On the other hand, being in the minority
in that town despite the twenty-first century wasn't a pleasure. It was
rather a constant struggle with rebuke. Someone in the big city could
attend the LGBT support group anonymously. Anonymity in a small town
wasn't possible. So most of gays and lesbians were staying in their
closets without knowing the others.
I'd met a gay who came to me for help since he was sure that being a gay
was more than deadly sin. I was talking in my homilies about acceptance
of sexual minorities almost every month and this man; he was the first
one, turned to me almost a year later. That was the reality of the tight
knit community. This way I'd got a friend in the Sheriff's office while
George had got a supporter.
But anyway he remained in his closet. Gays and lesbians could stay in
their closets and no one would recognize them. What about transgendered?
They couldn't stay in their closets while the gist of being transgendered
was to be social. What kind of life did they have to live? What kind
life did Sophie have to look forward to? I'd met her as a girl and she
was happy. I hadn't seen her before and I didn't know what she was born
a boy. I could assume her life wasn't happy because of her homophobic
father. I had learned that she suffered indignity and violence though I
couldn't do anything to change this. Or could I?
I had to confess that my thoughts were returning not to Sophie but to
Hanna Lora again and again. I didn't know it was love or something else
because it was the first time I had such feelings. I couldn't stop
thinking about her. It was a sort of delusion. I had to talk to
someone. I found Mark alone in his office.
"Mark, I need your advice."
"Spill it," Mark wasn't formal with me, just as he wasn't formal with the
most of the parish.
I took a seat across from his desk, but Mark came around and sat down in
the other chair. That was one of the great things about Mark; he didn't
put barriers like a desk between himself and others.
"It's about love. But not about God's love."
"What's her name?" there was a sparkle in his eyes. Mark was glad to
hear that his long-time friend might have finally found love.
"Why do you think there is someone?" I frowned a bit. I didn't think
that I had been that obvious to Mark.
Mark smiled and said, "I've had the same questions when I fell in love
with my wife. So who is she?"
"Hanna Lora Werner."
"Yeah... She's a special woman," he said. "Do you know her story?"
"Yes, I do. She's told me."
"It's strange, very strange. She's extremely reticent about herself. Is
there something you want to share with me?"
I'd told him a story how I'd met Sophie and about my visit to Werner's
farm.
"And what do you think?" Mark asked.
"About what?"
"Hanna Lora. Does she know?"
"What?"
"Don't be so stupid. That you have lost your heart to her."
"Sure she doesn't. I don't even know how to tell her." That was one of
the reasons I was here with Mark. How do you tell someone you really
like them?
"Pick up the phone and call her. What are you waiting for?" Mark urged
me. "She's a woman, she can't call you first. You're very special to
her if she's told you her story."
"You know her story too."
"Rumors, rumors, only rumors..." Mark replied. "Hanna Lora has never
talked with me about her past."
"I don't know. Maybe you're right. I'll call her. Maybe a bit later."
"What about Sophie?" Mark asked.
"She's a happy girl when she's at her aunt's," I said. "I guess she
deserves better parents than Walter Keitel."
"I share your opinion," Mark said. "The problem is that Sophie can't be
adopted by her aunt even in case her father abandons his parenthood
because Hanna Lora is single. On the other hand, I don't think involving
Children's Services is a good idea. They would take Sophie away from her
father but they wouldn't give her to Hanna Lora for the same reason and
most probably Sophie's future would be in a state orphanage because of
her special needs. I have talked with some people at Children's Services
and they have confirmed they don't know any foster family for a
transgendered girl. At an orphanage, she would be a boy bullied by other
boys and who knows how it would end."
"Sophie's situation appears rather hopeless, doesn't it?" Mark's words
just seemed to cause a heavy feeling in my gut.
Mark leaned forward in his chair. "There are no hopeless situations. We
both know this. Just some ifs and buts."
"What ifs?" The heavy feeling didn't seem to be that bad now.
"IF Hanna Lora were to be married and IF her spouse would accept Sophie,"
Mark said. There was a hint of a smile on Mark's face as he looked me in
the eye.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Probably. Call Hanna Lora. Pay her a visit. Do something... if you're
serious about her."
"You're right. You're hundred times right, Mark. I'll call her." If she
felt the same as I did, everything might be arranged after Easter. Yes.
I'd call her.
3
It was not just very complicated, but extremely complicated to date for
the first time in my life. I never had a girlfriend and I didn't know
what I was expected to do and say. Thanks to God, everything went well.
I had needed just to call her and everything was arranged by Hanna Lora.
She'd invited me for Easter dinner after the Divine Service. That wasn't
a date actually because Sophie as well as Hanna Lora's neighbor were
present at dinner.
My next visit was on Quasimodo Sunday so I had a present for Sophie, a
pendant in form of anchor as a symbol of hope. Later were some more
visits and not just on Sundays. Our relations were developing very fast,
some could say even too fast, but our wedding was arranged a week after
Pentecost. The service was a quiet one, just the two of us and official
witnesses, and Mark of course. It wasn't a secret anyway and some people
were waiting for us outside the church with Sophie in 'boy mode' among
them.
A very human quality is to err. Sometimes this statement is the only
thing in our defense. Let's go back to the crux of the matter.
Hanna Lora and I were a family now and I was stupid enough to discuss
almost all questions of our family in the presence of Sophie for whom I
was an authority figure. Thus I'd said Sophie needed to pay a visit to a
counselor. I was sure she'd never go alone or without telling us about
this. I'd planned to drive Sophie to the city to one of counselors I'd
got to know personally.
But that was my plan not Sophie's. She went to the school's counselor
and then and appointment with a psychiatrist was made. Neither Hanna
Lora nor I were informed about this because we weren't Sophie's family.
Walter Keitel instead had gotten the call from the psychiatrist's office
about Sophie's upcoming visit despite what Sophie had said about her
abusive homophobic father.
There are some people called homophobes. Most are passive in their hate
of people with gender issues. Some of them picket homophobes and an even
smaller group of them are violent activists. Sophie's father, Walter
Keitel, fell into the latter group. He knew about Sophie, i.e. about his
son David pretending to be a girl. And he hated his kid for it and had
used his belt to show his hatred. But this was while he'd been sure only
he and Hanna Lora knew about Sophie. But everything went differently now
after the call from psychiatrist office. Sophie had gone public. His
odium now was in no comparison to hatred previously.
My cell phone buzzed in the pocket of my jacket one afternoon when I was
doing paperwork in the church's office. "Pastor Goss," I answered the
call.
"Something awful happening at Keitel's trailer," a female voice that was
only vaguely familiar said, "I've heard David's screams."
"Have you called the police?" There was no answer just a beep as my
caller hung up, some people never call police.
I dialed the emergency number as fast as I could. "Can you send a car to
check Mr. Keitel's trailer at the far end of Dryfield? I've got a call
about screams there. It's pastor Lucas Goss calling."
"Have you personally witnessed it?" an operator asked.
"No, I've not."
"We don't accept calls based on rumors, sir," and again the same tell-
tale beep of a terminated call.
By that time, I was already in my car when I tried my emergency call
another way. "George? It's Lucas Goss. I'm driving to Dryfield. I've
got a call something happening at Keitel's. Can you drive in?"
"Sure. Fifteen minutes guess."
I was faster than George. I'd stopped my car by the Keitel's trailer and
run inside but the trailer was empty so I stepped outside and walked it
round. In the back where no one could see, I saw a nude body with hands
raised up and tied to the hook high on the top of the trailer. The sun
was setting and everything was in a dimmed bronze shine.
I couldn't see the welts on the back turned to me and neither could I say
the body was alive. I raised my hands to unhook the body.
"Leave it! Now!" I turned my head and saw Sophie's father behind me.
"Don't be stupid. She needs a doctor," I said attempting to untie her
hands and get her down.
"Doctor won't help. Satan has got into my son and he is she now and you
are Satan's priest freak ..."
I succeeded in get Sophie's hands unhooked and was turning around with
her in my hands holding her between me and the trailer. At the same
moment I noticed a flash of movement and turned my head toward it. I saw
the glossy tool raised high above my head and tried to avoid the impact
but, with Sophie in my hands, I wasn't able to move quickly and I was
struck over my right shoulder. I saw the tool raised again but I was
unable to move. There was a shot and I passed out the next moment.
I didn't remember much of what happened next by Keitel's trailer. I saw
ambulance and police lights and heard sirens. Next, there was a darkness
and the silence and later some whispers and silence in the darkness
again. The next thing I remember was white checked ceiling. I could
guess I was in the hospital. Hospital was much better than morgue. The
only strange thing at the moment was that there was no nurse in the room
with me. Or I couldn't see any. I started to inspect myself. I moved
my feet and I felt they were moving. That was a good sign that my spine
was ok. Then I tried to move my hands and the right hand didn't respond.
That's not good. Next I tried to move my jaw and found no tubes in my
mouth. That was perfect. I was ok, but how was Sophie? I tried to
raise my head unsuccessfully and second later I saw a girl's face above
me.
"Welcome back! I'm Linda. The doc will be shortly here," she said and
disappeared. Why do nurses in the movies smile and ask stupid questions
like 'How are you?' This was definitely not a movie, but the nurse was
still too cheerful.
"Hi, I'm Gordon, your surgeon. How do you feel?" The male face that
appeared asked.
"I can't feel my right hand," I said.
"You'll need few months to regain the use it," doctor said.
"I can't drive and bless with a left hand only." But it was good to hear
that my hand would be useable again.
"But you are alive otherwise you'd talk not with me but to St. Peter," he
replied. His logic was sound, but it did not do me much good at the
moment.
"Is it that serious?"
"Luckily for you, you were struck with a mattock over the right shoulder
so your collarbone and three ribs were cut and your right lung was torn.
If it had been your left shoulder your heart could have been injured. Or
if the hit had come more to the right your right hand would be simply cut
off."
"Sophie?" I wasn't sure how to ask about her.
"She's ok. She's in another room with your wife now."
"Tell her I'm ok," I asked.
"Don't worry," he said. "Nurse will give you a shot, I want you to
sleep. See you later."
I didn't notice Linda giving me the shot but I felt asleep shortly.
I saw Hanna Lora's face the next morning when I woke up.
"How do you feel, honey?" she asked.
"I'm ok. How is Sophie? Shouldn't you be with her?"
"She's asleep now."
"Doc didn't correct me yesterday she's a boy. What happened?"
"Walter got a call from the psychiatrist's office and got furious. He
tied Sophie's hands to the hook and started to beat her privates with a
cane till the testicles were smashed. What his plans were later nobody
knows because you came onto the scene. Here in the hospital, the doctors
found that not only were Sophie's testicles smashed but her penis was
practically cut off. The SRS was the only option and, after a judge's
verdict, David became Sophia."
"What about Walter?"
"George shot him when Walter tried to hit you again. He saved your
life." Hanna Lora's eyes were filled with tears at the thought that she
had almost lost another husband and child.
4
I tried to see the positive moment in the whole story but I couldn't at
that time.
Months and years of transition and bureaucracy were resolved in one day
for Sophie. But at what price! There was not only the physical pain.
There was the rape by her father. And that was not a simple momentary
rape but a torture of unbearable pain.
Sophie was young and her wounds were healing quickly and along with
hormone therapy she was developing into a teenage girl showing everything
girls her age have. Mentally she was a wretch and she needed a whole
year to recover. Another year was needed to regain her smile.
I needed some help myself and both Hanna Lora and Mark were great in that
respect. I believed in loving and forgiving people, seeing the good in
everyone. I had confronted by the violence brought of hate and
intolerance and I had been shaken as a result. But I finally realized
that this was another occasion that had been sent to me for my
edification. If I had not been there, my daughter would not be here now.
My friendship and counseling of George had saved us both.
Now it was the time to turn to Walter. Love and forgiveness in general
was nothing or rather hypocrisy if there was a single man causing me to
feel a hate and a fear. My worship and His grace succeeded and I could
see miserable lost man who took hate for love. I succeeded to see His own
image in this man. Now I had to help Sophie and Hanna Lora forgive Walter
too.
We lived a family life all three of us, the parents and the daughter.
Hanna Lora was working at her farm while Sophie was attending a High
School in the town. I have to confess that not every day of our life was
filled with love and mutual understanding. There were days of resentment
and insult too but we were family and we loved each other.
I tried to show Sophie my respect and trust. She was still a child and
most importantly the girl. She needed money for her own, for dresses and
make-up and such. I couldn't afford give her much but I never asked her
to report for money she'd spent.
The day of High school graduation was always the great event in the town
and most officials were present. This one was very special while it was
Sophie's graduation day. She graduated at the top of her class and she
was probably the most popular girl in the school judging by the cheers
she got while collecting her diploma.
After the official part was over I was driving the car with all three of
us home to the farm but Sophie asked to stop at town cemetery. Hanna Lora
and I followed Sophie to someone's grave. I felt I knew what unnamed
grave we were approaching. I'd expected to see a metal plate with a case
number usual for vagrant's grave. If my memory served good it was
12KR041. I'd visited this grave several times. There was a gravestone
not sumptuous but black marble one with an inscription on it: Walter
Keitel R?P. I turned to Hanna Lora and she shook her head. It could be
only Sophie. Her dresses, shoes, make-up and candies, everything she
could have for herself in the last couple of years was put there in the
simple marble her Father's headstone.
Sophie put her flowers on the grave and we went back to the car in
silence.
Latisha
- 17.08.2020
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