Synopsis:
The ongoing journey of a confused young man, evolving into a new adventure.
Introduction:
After being groomed and outed publicly as faggot, I fled town with embarrassment. While away, I tried to straighten my life out. What it did was clarify things. Instead of hiding my cravings, I look to thrive on them, even to urge to dress up a little girly. I am now in a relationship of sorts with an old-school friend. Taking a risk every time, I visited him, with the local street gang.
The Story:
*If you don't like a bit of violence or rape (Stop reading now)
**My first attempt at this story wasn't passed on a few other sites and was reported, I tried to soften it a little:
Rolling the dice
After yet another night at Zayne's and a safe journey home, I lay on my bed thinking.
I laughed to myself, about when we were back at school. It's funny looking back to then. I was like the super cool dude, who played school field hockey, and Zayne was my lackey. He was this slightly nerdy, girly, or queer dude, that I also used to belittle with my cool friends but outside of school, I hung out with.
I couldn't have imagined back then I'd be the one willing to give up my soul, just for cock and to become some dude's bitch. Now he's the super cool guy and I'm his little bitch. The worm of time has turned full circle.
I have gone from being a straight-edge type of guy to a bona fide queer in just over a year and a bit. Also, I had lost my self-confidence but was slowly becoming less and less fearful of what people thought of me now.
I couldn't give two fucks if you didn't approve of my life choices. Maybe this is how junkies think. of what I was becoming.
Maybe I always had this in me, but it took Tiffany to let it out. She's the one, who introduced me to the joys of anal sex.
*
Two days had now passed since I last visited Zayne.
For the next few weeks, this became our routine, wait by the edge of the park, dressed all girly. Zayne would text me,
"Home , CIC" (Coast is Clear),
meaning he was home, and his mom had gone to work. We would drink, smoke, and play video games for half an hour, before drinking, smoking, and fucking until after midnight.
To my knowledge, she didn't know, or she kept it to herself.
*
So, for the past few months, I had been fucked regularly in the ass by Zayne and by Jess.
When I visited Jess, we would hook up and fuck several times a day. Then later, we would go out to that same gay bar as before. I wasn't the same cautious guy I was when I was there several months ago. In the company with Jess, we would frolic around just like two gay kids It was much more fun to be able to let loose out of town than it was inside my suburb.
Each time I visited Jess, a little bit of my manhood eroded. Due to this fact, I was able to shop around and experiment, with make-up, grow my hair, dye my hair, and look around and buy different clothes and shoes. It was my getaway to freedom, and I was able to evolve without someone I knew spotting me.
Over the next six months, I no longer suffered from anxiety about being spotted and called out for being queer and loving cock. I think people knew I was gay or bi, by how I walked, acted, and by the clothes I wore, and now with the make-up.
At home, sometimes times I would be fighting with my patience and dress up early, waiting for Zayne's texts.
I'd sometimes walk through the park, sometimes I would walk around the park during daylight hours, dressed like a girl. I'd rarely chanced my luck in the park once darkness fell. Even though there were patrols inside the park, they knew better than to enter the area where the gang was.
It usually was around after 2:00 AM that I had to choose to either walk through the reserve or around it. I'd be dressed like a girl both ways but walking a little worse for wear on my return home, after an evening of gay shenanigans.
*
This very night/morning, I was walking home from Zayne's place, with two to three loads of cum inside my ass. I redid my make-up and tied my now longer purple and blue hair in pigtails. Then put on my girly clothes, this time there was no mistake, they were girly clothes. I wore a tartan mini-skirt, knickers, tan ankle boots, a pink sports bra, a denim vest, and my black beanie. Then, kissed Zayne goodbye, then started my trek home.
There I was oblivious to the world around me and buzzing on cloud nine, from smoking weed, drinking shots of vodka, and six hours of frolicking with Zayne. I was tired and a little worse for wear and the look of a girl.
Well, I imagined I was.
For several weeks now, I had cut through the park by where the thugs hung out, with no dramas. They saw me, watched me walk by, like a pack of wolves, but did nothing.
I had been mixing it up, by walking through or around the park, depending on the time and how sore I was.
Today it was a bit later, about 3:15 AM. Although I knew it was stupid to walk anywhere when it was dark and gloomy. Walking through this park when it was dark and gloomy, was especially stupid and spooky. The park after dark, had a bad reputation for violence, muggings, animal attacks, and rapes.
At night, other than the thugs, there were owls, wolves, and wild dogs. I met none of them but would hear strange noises but see nothing.
I still took the risk and for six months, I had ridden my luck and walked the track, through it. Also, going through the park, and on that track cut twenty minutes off my journey home.
After a trouble-free six months, I had become a little complacent and ignorant of the dangers within.
*
Today by 3:30 AM, there was a bit more fog than usual. I wished I had dressed a bit smarter, as it was cold now, and I was shivering. So, I hugged myself tightly while walking slowly, and as I walked my legs were closer together. I had started to get walking like a girl down to a T, and my butt would wiggle while I walked. My boots clip-clopped and echoed, as I walked on the paved track.
So, here I was shivering on the edge of the park. At first, I hesitated then proceeded to enter the park.
I had a 6
th
sense feeling, that I should take the long way home today. My instincts were ignored because it was very cold.
If I carried a bag, I could have stored a wallet or a purse inside it. I'd have money or cards or even ID, and I could have booked a taxi or an Uber if I carried a phone.
I didn't, and I travel light, so I didn't get mugged.
All that was on my mind was that I wanted to get home as soon as possible. My pride and that little bit of manhood I had left in me, prevented me from thinking rationally.
The buzz from all the weed we smoked, and the shots of spirits started to fade. I was on cloud nine, thinking about all the sex we had.
