FA+
Shop
Long, True story of my life.
6 years ago
Ok, so bear with me. This is going to be rather long.
Many years back, around 1986 or so, I finally figured out a name for what was, or at least what i though was, wrong with me: Transgender. I'd been feeling like I wasn't really a boy for years, all through high school and then on into college, but for lack of better knowledge, just figured I was some weird dude who liked to wear women's clothing to feel better and keep it all a big secret. Well, I found out there were others like me, and did what I could to seek some help. It was a long journey of several years, and along the way, I met a couple of others who introduced me to the world of sex with other Tgirls, and then on into being with a guy or two. Now, I never really liked the guys part, but hey, fun is fun, right?
Let's fast forward a couple years now. I was living at home yet, in the middle of north central Illinois, and seeing a Psych Dr. in Chicago who dealt with trans folk. Now, when I went to see him once a month was about the only time I could get out dressed as Michelle, the name I went by at the time. But the hard part was getting ready at home without being caught by my parents. My Dad was a retired farmer at this point but my Mom still worked full time as a bookkeeper at the local grain elevator. Now, I know Dad took naps quite regularly, as I'd figured out how his day went. I was working full time during the days at a local Lawn and Garden store, and farming at the same time at home.
Well, he caught me dressed up on the way out finally one day. It did not go well. He beat me pretty badly and told me to basically get the fuck out. I had no where to go, and no real close friends either, just a few acquaintances that I'd met through the past couple of years. He gave me a month to find a place to go, and to get all my stuff out. So, I found a cheap apartment in the larger town, at least larger to me at the time, about 1/2 hour from home, and moved in there.I also decided that this was the time to go living full time as MIchelle. This was in 1991 or 92.
Well, as one can imagine, being this time period, in a town in teh middle of Illinois, no one would give me a job. And I tried, boy did I try. But no one would hire the weirdo queer in the dress, as they seemed to all put it. So I was in a rather hard spot, between that proverbial rock and the proverbial hard place. So what does one do when one gets desparate? Well, this one turned to sex work, as i couldn't think of anything else short of turning to crime, which I did not waant to do at all. It started with doing phone chat/sex for pay per minute with some Trans sex line, and after a few month, I finally decided to actually meet up with one of my clients for some personal one on one time at a local motel. I wasn't really into this, but being as I was rather desperate, it was a way to make some money fast. Well, apparently, I was rather good at being a little bitch slut whore, and word got around slowly, and I started having more and more clients. I felt like crap for the whole thing but what was I to do? I was still trying to find a "real job" but nothing would ever come of it.
After a year or so, I had met a couple of lesbians who became good friends and the told me of a place in Peoria, IL that was a gay nightclub, and went there with thm a few times. Got lots of propositions right off the bat, and starting turning tricks in the top row of tables or out in the parking or at night, as I had no place to go there. I ended up moving down to that area few months later, taking a mobile home for rent with tow other drag queens I had met at the club. We all were doing the same thing however, having guys "rent" us for sex and blowjobs and whatnot. Sometimes we'd even do basically an orgy for a bunch of guys at once.
And then it happened one day, as I had feared it would. ONe guy took things way too far, farther than I'd ever wanted to go, and he basically raped me, and I just laided there and let it happen, because I was so fucked up int he head over the whole thing, I dont' think I really knew what was going on until the next day. Got to admit, I was using a fair amount of weed at the time, and drank way too much at the club. Even got so drunk one time there, when I was working as day time cleanup finally having a legit job, that we three who were there decided to do one shot from each of the 50 some bottles of hard stuff. NO idea how many shots I drank, but I don't remember the next three days, even now. Was told however that I'd turned into a total whore for most of the time, and had a literal gandbang with who knows how many. Probably a good thing I don't remember that. But the first time that one guy raped me, THAT I remember.
Told you this was going to be long. Still with me? Good.
I lived in that place for 3 years. Met a nice lady who happend to live next door. Ended up getting married to her and moved out of that place to a small town about a half hour away. She had two young kids, ages 6 and 9. They just knew me as Mickie, or Michelle, who lived next door, and who was a "Drag Queen" and went out at night and sometimes had dates over. That was probably more than they needed to know, but I sure didn't want to try to explain everything to them. Teri, the lady I mentioned, knew and she knew it all, as I'd told her shortly after that first rape. She helped me through it by being there for me, being a friend, being a confidant, being a shoulder to cry on, and so on. She also got me to give up that lifestyle after we moved and I finally got a "real job" Which was good, very good.
Several years later, after we'd broken up I turned back to my old lifestyle, as I was getting desperate for money again. This was before I started driving semis, and before I found the furry fandom, and before I knew any of you folks who are now my friends and family. I'm not proud of what I did, and what I was, but it was what it was. A way to survive. Yes, I was a sex worker. A phone sex operator. A "lady of the evening". A prostitute. A whore. And I fully support others who do the same or similar things. I back them 100%. I feel sorry for those who, like me, see no other way of surviving, but I'll back them always and fully. Now, I've not engaged in this sort of thing for at least 18 years or so, and I have no plans to do so again, but I'm not going to hide from my past either. Most of you never knew about this. I hope you're still my friends.
Now, I recently had an interaction on Facebook with a friend who had posted about a guy who seemed to think rape was ok, or at least the implication that rape was ok, and that you could just say you didn't want it and it wouldn't happen. Well, after what I went through, and all the bullshit that went through my head afterwards, I have NO PITY at all for any rapist at all. NONE. In fact, I feel that the old proverb, "An Eye For An Eye" would be the easiest and best way to handle anyone who rapes another person, especially someone who rapes a kid. Like what happened to me also.
In 1976. Father Frank O'Frey. Minonk, IL, St. Patrick's Catholic Church. I was an altar boy there for several years. One day, he took advantage of me and did the worst thing that could ever happen to a kid. He raped me in the back of the church. Said to never tell anyone. Said I was a good boy for keeping this between us. Said all sorts of things. And did it more than once. How many times, I can't say, as other than what I just told you, I blacked out all memories for most of that year. I remember it was the Bicentenial year and the fireworks and all that, but most of the year is a big black blank to me, and has been for as long as I can remember.
So, what does this all mean? It's very simple actually. I HATE ALL RAPISTS. I hate them with a passion. And when someone is caught and sent to prison for raping someone, they should be given the opportunity to feel exactly what it was like when they did what they did. They should be subject to being used and abused by the other inmates. That's what I feel is only right. That is what I feel. You may feel otherwise. That is your right. I am not going to stop you from believeing what you believe, nor would I ever try to change your mind. All I ask is that you give me the same right.
I know at least one of you, and possibly many of you, will and do disagree strongly with my point of view on what should happen to rapists. That is as it is. I don't and won't try to change your opinions, and I ask that you do not do it to me either. And with that, I will not speak of this again.
So, now you know a lot of my past that you never knew before. I hope this doesn't change your opinion of me. I didn't really want to have to write this or tell this, but after what occured between one of you and me recently on Facebook, I felt that I needed to do this. I value each and every one of you as a friend, and some as family. Family of choice. Because my real family wants nothing to do with me. One of my aunts is on my side in all this long thing I call my life. She supports me being my true self. And she is fine with me being Callie. My Mom doesn't know that Cal became Callie a couple of years ago now. She still calls me by my birth name of Michael, a name I truly despise and hate. I don't want her to know either. If she does know, she hasn't let on to me. As far as I know, no one on here has any contact with her. If you do, please don't say anything to her. She doesn't need to know about all the stuff I wrote here. My sister has friends on here that know us both. I don't know what if anything has been said to her. And I'll leave it at that.
I don't know what else to say at this point. I probably forgot half of what I had originally wanted to say here. If I remember anything else, I can always write another post later. And if I loose any of you as friends, I will feel very sorry and sad, but I will accept things as they go. And with that, I bid you goodnight.
Many years back, around 1986 or so, I finally figured out a name for what was, or at least what i though was, wrong with me: Transgender. I'd been feeling like I wasn't really a boy for years, all through high school and then on into college, but for lack of better knowledge, just figured I was some weird dude who liked to wear women's clothing to feel better and keep it all a big secret. Well, I found out there were others like me, and did what I could to seek some help. It was a long journey of several years, and along the way, I met a couple of others who introduced me to the world of sex with other Tgirls, and then on into being with a guy or two. Now, I never really liked the guys part, but hey, fun is fun, right?
Let's fast forward a couple years now. I was living at home yet, in the middle of north central Illinois, and seeing a Psych Dr. in Chicago who dealt with trans folk. Now, when I went to see him once a month was about the only time I could get out dressed as Michelle, the name I went by at the time. But the hard part was getting ready at home without being caught by my parents. My Dad was a retired farmer at this point but my Mom still worked full time as a bookkeeper at the local grain elevator. Now, I know Dad took naps quite regularly, as I'd figured out how his day went. I was working full time during the days at a local Lawn and Garden store, and farming at the same time at home.
Well, he caught me dressed up on the way out finally one day. It did not go well. He beat me pretty badly and told me to basically get the fuck out. I had no where to go, and no real close friends either, just a few acquaintances that I'd met through the past couple of years. He gave me a month to find a place to go, and to get all my stuff out. So, I found a cheap apartment in the larger town, at least larger to me at the time, about 1/2 hour from home, and moved in there.I also decided that this was the time to go living full time as MIchelle. This was in 1991 or 92.
Well, as one can imagine, being this time period, in a town in teh middle of Illinois, no one would give me a job. And I tried, boy did I try. But no one would hire the weirdo queer in the dress, as they seemed to all put it. So I was in a rather hard spot, between that proverbial rock and the proverbial hard place. So what does one do when one gets desparate? Well, this one turned to sex work, as i couldn't think of anything else short of turning to crime, which I did not waant to do at all. It started with doing phone chat/sex for pay per minute with some Trans sex line, and after a few month, I finally decided to actually meet up with one of my clients for some personal one on one time at a local motel. I wasn't really into this, but being as I was rather desperate, it was a way to make some money fast. Well, apparently, I was rather good at being a little bitch slut whore, and word got around slowly, and I started having more and more clients. I felt like crap for the whole thing but what was I to do? I was still trying to find a "real job" but nothing would ever come of it.
After a year or so, I had met a couple of lesbians who became good friends and the told me of a place in Peoria, IL that was a gay nightclub, and went there with thm a few times. Got lots of propositions right off the bat, and starting turning tricks in the top row of tables or out in the parking or at night, as I had no place to go there. I ended up moving down to that area few months later, taking a mobile home for rent with tow other drag queens I had met at the club. We all were doing the same thing however, having guys "rent" us for sex and blowjobs and whatnot. Sometimes we'd even do basically an orgy for a bunch of guys at once.
And then it happened one day, as I had feared it would. ONe guy took things way too far, farther than I'd ever wanted to go, and he basically raped me, and I just laided there and let it happen, because I was so fucked up int he head over the whole thing, I dont' think I really knew what was going on until the next day. Got to admit, I was using a fair amount of weed at the time, and drank way too much at the club. Even got so drunk one time there, when I was working as day time cleanup finally having a legit job, that we three who were there decided to do one shot from each of the 50 some bottles of hard stuff. NO idea how many shots I drank, but I don't remember the next three days, even now. Was told however that I'd turned into a total whore for most of the time, and had a literal gandbang with who knows how many. Probably a good thing I don't remember that. But the first time that one guy raped me, THAT I remember.
Told you this was going to be long. Still with me? Good.
I lived in that place for 3 years. Met a nice lady who happend to live next door. Ended up getting married to her and moved out of that place to a small town about a half hour away. She had two young kids, ages 6 and 9. They just knew me as Mickie, or Michelle, who lived next door, and who was a "Drag Queen" and went out at night and sometimes had dates over. That was probably more than they needed to know, but I sure didn't want to try to explain everything to them. Teri, the lady I mentioned, knew and she knew it all, as I'd told her shortly after that first rape. She helped me through it by being there for me, being a friend, being a confidant, being a shoulder to cry on, and so on. She also got me to give up that lifestyle after we moved and I finally got a "real job" Which was good, very good.
Several years later, after we'd broken up I turned back to my old lifestyle, as I was getting desperate for money again. This was before I started driving semis, and before I found the furry fandom, and before I knew any of you folks who are now my friends and family. I'm not proud of what I did, and what I was, but it was what it was. A way to survive. Yes, I was a sex worker. A phone sex operator. A "lady of the evening". A prostitute. A whore. And I fully support others who do the same or similar things. I back them 100%. I feel sorry for those who, like me, see no other way of surviving, but I'll back them always and fully. Now, I've not engaged in this sort of thing for at least 18 years or so, and I have no plans to do so again, but I'm not going to hide from my past either. Most of you never knew about this. I hope you're still my friends.
Now, I recently had an interaction on Facebook with a friend who had posted about a guy who seemed to think rape was ok, or at least the implication that rape was ok, and that you could just say you didn't want it and it wouldn't happen. Well, after what I went through, and all the bullshit that went through my head afterwards, I have NO PITY at all for any rapist at all. NONE. In fact, I feel that the old proverb, "An Eye For An Eye" would be the easiest and best way to handle anyone who rapes another person, especially someone who rapes a kid. Like what happened to me also.
In 1976. Father Frank O'Frey. Minonk, IL, St. Patrick's Catholic Church. I was an altar boy there for several years. One day, he took advantage of me and did the worst thing that could ever happen to a kid. He raped me in the back of the church. Said to never tell anyone. Said I was a good boy for keeping this between us. Said all sorts of things. And did it more than once. How many times, I can't say, as other than what I just told you, I blacked out all memories for most of that year. I remember it was the Bicentenial year and the fireworks and all that, but most of the year is a big black blank to me, and has been for as long as I can remember.
So, what does this all mean? It's very simple actually. I HATE ALL RAPISTS. I hate them with a passion. And when someone is caught and sent to prison for raping someone, they should be given the opportunity to feel exactly what it was like when they did what they did. They should be subject to being used and abused by the other inmates. That's what I feel is only right. That is what I feel. You may feel otherwise. That is your right. I am not going to stop you from believeing what you believe, nor would I ever try to change your mind. All I ask is that you give me the same right.
I know at least one of you, and possibly many of you, will and do disagree strongly with my point of view on what should happen to rapists. That is as it is. I don't and won't try to change your opinions, and I ask that you do not do it to me either. And with that, I will not speak of this again.
So, now you know a lot of my past that you never knew before. I hope this doesn't change your opinion of me. I didn't really want to have to write this or tell this, but after what occured between one of you and me recently on Facebook, I felt that I needed to do this. I value each and every one of you as a friend, and some as family. Family of choice. Because my real family wants nothing to do with me. One of my aunts is on my side in all this long thing I call my life. She supports me being my true self. And she is fine with me being Callie. My Mom doesn't know that Cal became Callie a couple of years ago now. She still calls me by my birth name of Michael, a name I truly despise and hate. I don't want her to know either. If she does know, she hasn't let on to me. As far as I know, no one on here has any contact with her. If you do, please don't say anything to her. She doesn't need to know about all the stuff I wrote here. My sister has friends on here that know us both. I don't know what if anything has been said to her. And I'll leave it at that.
I don't know what else to say at this point. I probably forgot half of what I had originally wanted to say here. If I remember anything else, I can always write another post later. And if I loose any of you as friends, I will feel very sorry and sad, but I will accept things as they go. And with that, I bid you goodnight.
I'm fortunate that I have never had to make choices as hard as some of the ones you have. While there are some things my family probably doesn't know about me I know it's at least something I'm sure if I told them they would still support me, for which I know I am fortunate and eternally grateful. *hugs*
I don't know what else to say.
I know it won't change anything but if it means anything I'm sorry you had to go through most of that.
I just wanted you to know that your words were not ignored.
*hugs Butterscotch Vixen, Susan Foxx, Cal Foxx, and Calientra*
All any of us can do is keep our head up and keep moving forward, there were times when I wasn't dealing with things day today or even hour by hour at times it was minute by minute to keep from going off the deep end.