'The Almost Girl' story by Ray Cates (Adolphus)

I was the third Bephost brother. ‘The Artist one’ who had not inherited part of the shipping business. Clem was the ‘to be’ head of the shipping company and Nester was his backup brother. Nester would know exactly as much, math, geography, and all as Clem so he could take over in sickness or emergency.

My career should be substantial, but not competitive. Maybe in religion or the military. The family would decide. Then one day when I was drawing a lot and taking nature pictures it was decided I was to join the military –the Army Coast Guard. My mother got to decide that, whereas women decided nothing important in our family. I was not important.

I went on with high school and my brothers traveled the world managing the family fleet of ships. They all laughed about my art –drawing birds and plants What nonsense! My sisters Edna and Sue-Ann were part of the fleet acquisition deals. Edna became a 3rd wife of someone in China and Sue Ann was traded into the position of mistress of an old man in South Carolina. My mother didn’t like the way Sue-Ann was ‘horse traded’ off for advantage in the shipping trade. Once my father said and didn’t expect me to hear, “If only Graham had a pussy I could swap into some new tankers.”

People think they can just glance at another person and know its gender –boy or girl, man or woman. A glance gives us, a glimmer of the sexual nature of the being. When I was little the ‘glancers’ looked at me and said, ‘female’. I think I could have possessed a horse sized dick and looked like a girl, and boys would shun me, but I didn’t, mine was the smallest penis ever. My own older brothers thought my penis size was the joke to end all jokes. Clem my older brother would say, “Don’t hide it Pammie, it says who you are, an almost girl.” My mother called me ‘Grammie’ for Graham so my brothers gave me the girl name Pammie. In pre-school I played with the girls because boys just beat the shit out of me. Teachers couldn’t see every stomach punch. In new groups of kids I was seen as ‘another girl’.

By junior high my big fantasy was killing myself, but I was too much a girl and didn’t have the nerve. I also didn’t want to slit my wrists and get all that attention. I found all sorts of ways to hide from human interaction.

In high school I did like art and photography classes and my family was wealthy so I had the best equipment to work with. While other kids went to dances, drove to the seacoast and planned boy-girl dates, I shot pictures of rare birds in New England (where we lived). Many of my photos got into print.

During adolescence I was sought out by homosexual boys. They would often whisper to me, ‘would you like someone to whip you?’ or ‘Are you trans-gender?’ Some would even say, ‘Do you like to suck on meat?’ What you find out as a boy who looks like a girl is that boys who wonder if their male enough get courage from punching a girl-like boy. Thank god I didn’t have more than boy tits, some boys had ones so big they could have worn bras. I always stayed thin, but tits worried me. I prayed god never to get any protrusions at all. That might have given me reason for suicide.

While in high school one boy Glenn Ford went to our school. He was new to our area and his parents were poor, his shoes were worn out, even on top. My school was private and with a heavy tuition. I figured he was either on a scholarship (because he was somehow smart) or had a sponsor which meant an indenture and that was a kind of slavery. So anyway he had secretly punched me where no-one could see him do it. Turning him in might be what he wanted, attention. So I didn’t. I didn’t do anything about his assault. His was not the first undercover attack I had gotten. I attracted scum like him.

So doing my art I walked miles out into the woods to find birds, nests and to snap pictures I could draw from. I carried a compass so I would know how to get back, and to record exactly where the nests were.

It was a Tuesday in the Spring, cool, but for walking I had on a light jacket. I found a yellow-headed blackbird nest and watched and made photos for about an hour. They are beautiful and rare –colorful, rapid wing movement, and I got closeup shots. I was planning to sketch them in nest. I could see right in with special equipment I had. After my shoot was over I heard a tiny sound behind me.

I turned around and Glenn was standing almost right up to me where he could reach out and touch me. I had never said a word to him before, even after he hit me the 2nd time.

“What do you want?” I said.

“They say at school you have a pussy and a dick. I’m on a nature hunt for strange pussy?”

“Just go away and leave me alone!” I said in my most forceful voice. I was in the 9th grade but still had a rather female, little boy voice.

Glenn was twice as big as I was and he grabbed me from behind. He knocked my camera and equipment to the ground, some if it broke as it hit the ground. He was holding my arms to my sides and licking my neck, and said, “Pammie your going to be my slave girl,” he was holding me really tight and I could barely breathe. “I’m your master, right?”

“Yes master.” I said, you will say anything when you can’t breathe.

“Beg me to screw you Pammie,” he said.

He loosed his hold on me and said, “OK get off your pants.” I didn’t say or do anything so he twisted my fingers in a way so I fell to my knees. “There you are on the ground without your pants off. I don’t care how many fingers I break.”

“OK, OK I said loosing my belt. Thats a good little slave boy, a good-looking stupid little Pammie. You even write in your journal which areas your going to look for birds in. I knew about where you would be and so I only had to wait.

They want you dead and buried and I get for killing you — my freedom and ten credits. Thats not all if I walk you over to Burlington they have 3 nice slave sales places where I might get 20 credits if you have what they say –a penis and pussy.”

“Who says?” I said

“Your two brothers dummy. You’re an embarrassment with a boy name. You’re a disgrace to men and mankind, and perversion a grotesque. I think those are the two words they used.”

That’s when he picked me up holding me off the ground by my shirt and jerked my pants down. I quit fighting because he was so much stronger than me I looked around for any weapon, there was nothing but piles of leaves.

He carried me around, pulling me by my shirt, “We want to find a soft bed Pammie to have sex in don’t we?”

“Yes sir,” I said.

He didn’t take off his pants, but unzipped and put his penis directly in my bum hole and went up and down on me. His dong was very large and he wasn’t satisfied with just being inside back there, he found my shit hole and entered there and went up and down on me. When I screamed he said, “Good little girl yell as much as you want. Your older brother said about you, “What a waste of men’s pants, well you’re a good ride. Actually on the Hershize Farm where I grew up slave boys would see me and drop their pants and bend over. You have a tight little turd hole Pammie and I if I didn’t need money to start my new life I wouldn’t go off and sell you.”

After he finished and I got a liquid deposit in my behind, I didn’t dare to start to struggle. It’s hard to gage how long he rested on top of me. And then his weapon got rock hard again and his hands played with my ass cheeks and he went back to work inside me. Well may hands were free, but I had been thoroughly fucked and I was getting it again when just beyond where I had reached before in the leaves I felt something hard and pulled on it. It was an iron rod, and as I pulled on it he must have thought I was mounting some penis opposition in my movements and so he thrust harder at my anus. The rod came out of the leaves and sod and with all the effort I had left, and from a prone angle I somehow pushed it up into his eye, then with all my might I twisted the dirt covered thing into his brain.

When I passed out he was trying to squeeze the life out of me. Then when I woke up it was dark and he was off me with the rod still in his eye. In the black dark I felt everything with my hands. His blood was still sticky and rather nice.

I didn’t sleep that night, but I’ve always felt safe sleeping outside. In the morning it gradually got light and I saw him on his back with the rod in his eye. His penis was hanging outside his pants. I went thru his pockets and found 7 credit notes and some change and two rings with red and green stones. I wondered where he stole those –they looked expensive. He also had a big orange pocket knife. I took the knife and cut off his penis and preserved it in my thermos jar. He had been dead for hours and his blood was dry and stiff like condensed dry milk.

I pulled his shirt off and his pants down so the birds and animals could easily eat him. Then I gathered up my camera and accessories and put them in my carry all tote bag (along with his penis, my souvenir). and walked back home.

My mother was at home and I told her the whole story, leaving nothing out. Her first response was, “I don’t believe a word of this Graham. Your brothers have been always very nice to you, even though they always said you looked too feminine.”

“I have proof!” I said.

“You couldn’t because your brothers couldn’t do such a brutal, evil thing!”

“When I go out taking bird pictures I want a record of the sounds of the birds and I have a sensitive sound recorder that is part of the camera. I was recording when my camera was knocked on the ground. The words of the criminal are that he was paid by Clem and Nester. Listen to it!”

I played it for her and she said, “We must let your dad hear this and then you tell him what happened.”

My mom was my brothers mother also but my father was always best friends with both my brothers. they may have wanted me killed because he let them believe that I was rather a worthless sack of shit son. I was never his friend or someone who would inherit his shipping business. He had bastard sons by women he owned, but something was wrong with each and every one of them. Not as bad as having a girlie son, but close. Most of them were stupid because he planned to keep them as family slaves. Now he knew his favored sons were murderers. His jokes about me had probably encouraged them. My thought at the time was maybe his also, ‘If they would kill the feminine son, who was inheriting nothing, would they not kill the powerful dad who might withhold some of his wealth?’

All he said after my story and listening to the recording was, “No wives for them!”

He had promised them 2 of his friends daughters, as a reward for three years of managing his fleet of ships.

He waited and thought awhile and said, “Margaret I guess I better hire a professional manager and send them both off as apprentice sea captains.

They had both been bossing ship captains around for at least a year. so that was a drastic demotion. I was just a freshman in high school and was maybe now out of direct danger, but even I was in a bad place in my family.

Father was now in danger, but we weren’t such good friends. I couldn’t think of anything I liked about him. He never told me anything he liked about me.

A pox on him!

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Please leave your comments here at the story, but if you want to contact me my e-mail is: rcates2@cox.net and my fax number is 1-352-629-1573

Another story in this same series is: The 40 Mile Fighting Zone and it can be found at: http://thecitiesgames.wordpress.com

'The Almost Girl' story by Ray Cates (Adolphus)

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