Seeing My Future

It would be missing the point if one was to look at my life following what happened with Jon and think that I simply decided to be a slut.  I did not decide to be a slut.  I did not make it my life mission to suck each and every cock that presented itself for sucking.

When I headed back into the same woods I had just visited a month earlier with Jon with another boy, it was almost too much of a coincidence.  Had Jon told Nelson.  They were friends I knew and he knew Jon and I had been hanging out together.  And now here we were walking into the same section of the woods that I had just visited one month earlier.  Since Jon I had only sucked cock twice more.  Once with my brother a couple days after I did Jon.  (I really did love that Paul had such a big cock.  It was . . . . so much more of a good thing.)  And I had done one of my classmates after school after he walked me home.

Nelson and I were not dating.  We had bumped into each other at the library and decided to go to the park together.

As I said, I did not decide to become a slut.  I did however come to the realization that it was not my Mom or my Dad or my classmates or my brothers who would define me.  It was myself and my choices that would define me.

That is why for the last two weeks of school I went every day as Yvonne.  It is why I had convinced Mom to finally allow me to get a name change.  When school started in the fall, anyone who called me Glen would have it wrong.

It is also why I had to accept that I  found myself in a library on summer vacation about to talk to a boy and thinking about the size of his cock.

I had for several years been trying to win the battle, to prove to everyone that I was just a much a girl as any other girl.  But in truth I was not.  I was different.  I had a penis.  I could never be a wife or a mother, not in the traditional sense.  I had to accept that the reasons boys did not like me as much as they seemed to like other girls is because I was less of a girl.  I was tired of fighting the battle.  I would simply be myself and myself at that time loved wearing dresses and sucking dick.  While I may not be a girl, I was totally unwilling to see myself as a boy.

It should come as no surprise that Nelson had invited me into the woods and that dick sucking was in his plans. However, as it turned out, he asked the wrong question. It had not occurred to me that another boy might want to suck my cock. I had headed into the woods hopeful of giving another blowjob and instead I found myself fighting off a boy who wanted to put my dick in his mouth. As I stormed off, he caught up with me and made me promise not to ever tell anyone. "Who am I going to tell, Nelson. And why should they care?" I had learned another lesson about myself and boys.

My Dad Doesn't Like It

You could say it was my Dad's worse nightmare.  He had been off to work when I left for school that day so he was the last one to know of my decision.  Mom knew.  My brothers knew.  And the teachers at school knew.  And when Dad got home, he knew.

It was tough telling my Dad that I liked boys.  He tried to suggest that I maybe was too young to know.  I wanted to tell him that I was old enough to suck cock so I must be old enough to know liked boys.

While he tried  to be somewhat supported, I could  tell he was disappointed.  He even began one sentence by saying he was disappointed and ended it by saying he only wanted me to be happy.

Paul happened to step out of the house, unaware that Dad and I were talking.  He excused himself and was about ready to go back inside when my Dad said to him, "Yvonne wants to go full time Paul.  Apparently she like boys.  As in three times -- really, really, really' likes boys."

I heard myself saying, "Paul knows."  Before it stood out too uncomfortably, I added, "I told all my brothers this morning."

I had actually told Paul the previous evening. I had been very upset about the way Jon had dumped me and called me a slut and I needed to talk to someone. Who else could I talk to?

My brother listened and then when I was done telling him what had happened, he asked.   "So did you like it?  Did you like sucking his cock?"

"I did, but. . . "  I paused for a long moment and then I said what I wanted to say.   "I bet I would like yours more."  I looked away from him and when he did not respond, I added. "We made a vow we would never fuck again.  But we never said anything about me sucking on your dick.  If I really want to.  And I do." I then turned and looked at him directly in the eyes and I said, "I really want to suck your dick Paul."

Dad seemed to want some response from Paul before Paul went back inside so Paul said, "You can't be too surprised Dad.  She has had a crush on about every boy in the neighborhood at one time or another over the years."

My brother went back inside and then my dad turned to me and said, "I know this important to you, but I am going to ask just one more time. Are you really sure this is what you want?"

Later on that night I saw mu Dad standing at the patio window just staring outside.  I could tell he was upset.  I know it was not just about me wanting to be a girl.  That it was also about his uncertainty as to whether he should support me or not.  I went up to talk to him and he ended up asking to have some time on his own.  So I left him.  When I got to my room, I had a fantasy about what more I could have done to reassure my Dad that I really was best at being a girl.

From science class I had learned just enough about genetics that I knew why Dad and Paul looked so much alike. And as they looked so much alike, I suspected that like Paul, Dad had a big dick. Was it wrong for me to fatnasize about sucking my Dad's cock? No more so than actually sucking my brother's cock. And then it occurred to me. What if all my brothers had big dicks (they do by the way). And what if Daddy and the boys . . . I reached for myself and had a fantasy I knew had to be wrong, so terribly wrong.

The First Day of the Rest of My Life

On the morning after I had given Jon a blowjob,  I woke up feeling on top of the world.  I did not yet know that later on in the day I would be getting an email from Jon.

In that email he would call me a slut.  He would call me a slut for doing what he wanted me to do.  He would tell me that he could no longer be my boyfriend.  I would spend the day feeling very miserable.

It felt a bit like when Paul had fucked me two years previous.  (See Losing My Virginity).  While at the same time feeling much worse.  When Paul and I fucked we both knew I was too young and as he was my brother that it was just all wrong.  We had even made a vow to ourselves that we would never do it again.  Something we both felt was the right thing to do.

But this was different.  I was two years older.  I knew of two other girls who had done the same thing  with their boyfriends.  Jon had been my boyfriend.  He had taken me into the woods.  And now he was calling me a slut.

I was still feeling sad the next morning when I got up and started to get ready for school. There had one poiint about five minutes after I had started sucking on his cock that Jon had placed his hands on the back of my head and pushed his cock deeper down my throat.  He had exclaimed. "Yvonne, I love you so much.  I love you so much right now."  I was about to push him away.  I was gagging.  And then he had scream and I felt my mouth filling with his cum.

That had been the first time a boy had said "I love you" to me and I had felt certain he meant it.  It would not be the last.  And more often than not it would be just as meaningless.  The first day of the rest of my life was not the day that I sucked cock.  Nor was it the after when I learned what a jerk Jon could be.  It was on Monday when I started  to get ready for school.  Never again would I go  to school as Glen.  From that day forward I became a schoolgirl, a schoolboy no more.




At the start of the school year, Mom and I had sat down with the school administrators and come up with what was labeled as a compromise. They said that I had to conform to the same dress code as girls on those days that I came to school as Yvonne and conform to the dress code for boys on the days that I came to school as Glen. Now there were some grey areas that this left open if they were unable to determine if on any one day I was Glen or Yvonne. As Yvonne I could wear earrings. As Glen I could not. However, that never became an issue as when I was Yvonne I was most definitely Yvonne.

While this was acceptable to me, there was one other stipulation. Somehow in their infinite wisdom that decided that if I limited myself to dressing as Yvonne only one day a week that they would allow me to come to school as a girl. I was not entirely happy with this 'compromise.' However they seemed unwilling to budge on everyday, partailly because I had to be in PE class three days a week, days they insisted I had to come to school as a boy.

Now I will say that when I headed off to school that day committed to being a schoolgirl for the rest of my school career, there were only two weeks left in the school year. I sat down with the principal and asked to be excused from PE for the remainder of the year. There had been a few incidents over the year that had made the whole arrangement rather unpractical in practice and frankly I think he welcomed putting an end to the compromise.

I

Eight Years Old -- A Turning Point

I may have still been seven years old, but I feel pretty certain a major turning point in my life occurred shortly my eighth birthday.  I heard my mother refer to "Yvonne' as a 'phase' that Glen was going through.

When I asked Mom later what 'phase' meant and she explained the term, I made it very clear to her that Yvonne was not a 'phase' for me.

My mother did not argue the point.  Instead she merely said that sometimes adult tell lies because they know what other adults want to hear.  She knew it to be more than a phase for me, but any other explanation would have been unacceptable to her friend.

While I found my mother's explanation of what had been said and why acceptable, it did raise an issue for me.  If Mom's friend saw Yvonne as just a phase, how many other people that I knew felt the same way.  I knew my Dad wanted me to outgrow Yvonne and neither of my oldeer brothers were 'on board' with the whole Yvonne thing.

I felt more confident than not that Joey accepted me as his big sister when I was dressed as his big sister.  However as I looked around and everyone else I saw no one that seem truly supportive beyond Mom and to a lesser extent Joey.

Mom had over the last several months started have me posing for pictures that she submitted to modeling opportunities.

I was already competing in beauty pageants and while I had yet to win so much as a ribbon, I felt I was learning more and more about what I needed to do to compete in these pageants. I even had my own YouTube channel where I would occasionly model my dresses and share my experiences as Yvonne.

So what was the turning point in my life. I decided I had to start being more of a girl -- not a girl just for my Mom or when it was convenient for my Mom, but all the time. Now I did not have the option to be a girl all the time. Dad would never have allowed it. But I no longer felt like I had to ask permission for Mom to be a girl. For instance, when I enter a talent show at school and I told my Mom about doing so, I did not ask if it would be okay for me to perform as Yvonne. Other contestants were wearing cosutmes and while I did not consider my Yvonne's clothes a costume, I felt I could tell the teachers the lie they wanted to hear.

Maybe more importantly I decided I needed to do more to get boys to like me. I had always liked boys and I had even had boys who I knew liked me. But not unlike many adults, I had begun to sense that they saw it as more a game than anything real. And it was very real for me.