I had a problem: Nathan was turning me gay. I’d gone from hesitantly admiring him all dolled up and pretty to fucking him in public without much hesitation at all, with nothing but a skirt and some nail polish. What was next? Would I be pumping him missionary-style with his hair tied back off of his face? Would I be sucking his cock through the fly of his baggy jeans? I wasn’t gay—at least I didn’t think that I was gay. I liked girls. I liked Nathan as a girl.
Or did I just like Nathan?
CHAPTER VIII
It was a week later when I woke up to yelling in the hallway. I couldn’t make out what was being said at first, as I was still half-asleep, but I recognized the voices: Nathan and his father. And then I heard my mother’s voice as she entered into the fray. I looked over at the clock. It was almost 1:00 AM.
I sat up, my heart suddenly pounding. “Where did you even get all this? And where did you learn to do this?” I heard Nathan’s father shout in a deep voice. His voice made the floors tremble. I pulled my blanket up to my chin and I closed my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up from my nightmare. But I was already awake.
Nathan’s father had caught Nathan in the hallway, dressed up like a girl.
“What were you even doing? Were you about to go out like this? Tell me! How long has this been going on for?!” He proceeded to quote the Bible, and I pulled my blanket higher up over my face.
Thankfully, Nathan didn’t implicate me. He never mentioned my name. He told his father that he sometimes got dressed up in my sister’s clothes when everyone was asleep. Nathan’s father shouted and slammed the wall with what I assume was his fist (in the morning I saw the indent in the drywall). “Does anyone else know about this?” Nathan’s father asked. I didn’t hear Nathan’s timid reply, but I heard his father’s response: “Good.”
Voices were lowered. I could hear the faint murmurings of conversation throughout the next couple of hours, but no one was ever loud enough that I could hear them. I ended up falling back asleep (though I’m not sure how in my state of anxiety), and when I woke up, Nathan was gone. His room was empty and he was nowhere to be seen. But his bike was still leaning against the side of the house.
I pretended as though I hadn’t heard anything when my mom came down the stairs. “Where’s Nathan?” I asked casually after a couple of minutes.
“He went to go stay with some relatives,” my mother told me. “There was a family emergency. Your father had to stay behind.” I hated how she always referred to Nathan’s dad as my father, as if I didn’t have my own father who had lived with us for nearly sixteen years, who I still saw every week.
I didn’t prod any further. I didn’t want to come off as suspicious. So I accepted her answer, which I knew was a lie, and I waited until dinner, when we were all sitting around the table. “Do you mind if I ask what the family emergency is all about?”
Nathan’s father looked at me. He had heavy bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept five minutes in the night, and he probably hadn’t. “His mother is sick,” Nathan’s father said.
“Doesn’t she live here in town?” I asked.
“She moved away. Now she’s in Utah.” Nothing more was said, but nothing more had to be said. I knew Nathan’s mother wasn’t in Utah because Nathan often told me that his mom lived at a lake just outside of town. But as soon as he said Utah, I knew exactly where Nathan had been sent.
I’d seen the flyers on the billboard at the church: ‘Renew your personal relationship with God!’ was the tagline for the camp in Utah, which was called Camp Adam and Eve. ‘Become enlightened again,’ was another line on the front of the flyer. I’d never looked in the flyer, but I’d always wondered who was going to such a camp. Now I knew: people like Nathan, and people like the boy who came out at school a few weeks before. It was a camp designed to pray the gay away.
I swung by the church the next morning on my way to school and I grabbed one of those flyers off the billboard while no one was around. I didn’t look at the flyer until I was a few blocks away, where no one would see me and potentially implicate me into the whole mess.
There were different options at the camp: a two-week intensive, a month-long prayer camp, or the two-month renewal program. I had a feeling Nathan had been sent away for the full two months.
We were in Idaho, and our town was only a few hours away from the camp according to my phone’s GPS—by car, anyway. Riding my bike, it would probably take me twelve hours, which wasn’t reasonable at all. I couldn’t just leave and come back without anyone noticing my absence.
But why was I thinking about going to the camp at all? Why did I want to see Nathan? I didn’t. It was a good thing that he was at the camp. Maybe they would make him realize that he was indulging in degenerate behaviour. Maybe his dad was right—maybe dressing up like a lady and having sex with men really isn’t a good thing. And why would it be a good thing?
Why would it be a bad thing? If no one is getting hurt, why does God hate it so much?
Somehow I knew that it wasn’t right. If it wasn’t abnormal, then it wouldn’t have taken that one guy in our class so long to come out. And if it wasn’t abnormal, then Nathan and I wouldn’t just have been fooling around when no one was around. It was abnormal, which is why we were always so careful to make sure no one caught us. If they could pray Nathan straight, then good for them—it would be saving both of us.
Nathan had been gone for nearly a whole week but I still couldn’t stop thinking about him. I would lie awake in bed, half-expecting her to slip into my bedroom in a new set of lingerie. I missed her glossy lips and I missed the way her soft fingers caressed my sides while we made out. I tried to expel those thoughts from my mind, but they would wander back in every time I heard a creak in the hallway.
One night, as I stared at the open doorway waiting for a fishnet-clad leg to step through, I realized life was trying to tell me something: I needed to find myself a woman. It suddenly seemed obvious that my strange lust for Nathan was just my mind trying to compensate for my lack of female company. I’d spent almost no time with women in my life, but I’d always stayed up at night fantasizing about being with one. My brain must have finally snapped and settled on the closest thing that presented itself to me: Nathan.
So instead of falling asleep, I got up and went to my laptop. I made a profile on the first free online dating website I could find. I spent the next three hours filling in every detail, finding all of my best photos, making sure I had the best chance. And I wasn’t even finished perfecting my profile when a red blip appeared over the grey envelope in the corner. I had a message.
It was a from a young woman in my area. She looked vaguely familiar, but her name was unfamiliar: Farrah Young. She looked cute in her pictures. She always had her blonde hair done up in tight curls, and she had big, dark fake eyelashes in all of her photos. In most of her photos she was sitting by the water, and all of her interests were water related: swimming, boating, fishing, and so on. “Why are you up so late?” she asked.
“Can’t sleep,” I replied.
I was surprised by how quickly she responded. “What’s keeping you up?”
“Just life, I guess. Why are you up?”
“I work nights. Tough life. Your pics are cute. I hope you don’t mind me being too forward.” She sent a little smiley face along with her message. A warmth fluttered in my heart, and I found myself staring at the screen, wondering why I hadn’t started an online dating profile sooner…
It was because I’d always been too afraid—terrified of what people would think of me when they saw my profile, and terrified that someone I knew would find my profile and mock me for having it. But that night, I didn’t even hesitate. I didn’t even consider the possibility that someone I knew from school might find me. And who cares if they do? If they find me, that just means that they’re on the website too.
I met up with Farrah the next night, at 2:00 AM once she was off work. It was a strange time for a date, but it was the only time
that worked for her. She was a cute girl with lots to talk about. She was always smiling and she kept apologizing to me about the strange meet up time. “I really don’t mind,” I kept saying, but every twenty minutes or so she would apologize again. When I told her that I really liked her outfit, her cheeks turned a shade of dark red. When I told her that I really liked her smile, her cheeks turned even redder.
And it wasn’t until I’d been staring at that face for a couple of hours that I realized her outfit reminded me of Nathan and so did her smile.
CHAPTER IX
Farrah was the first girl I ever slept with, and we slept together just five days after meeting (at the end of our third late night date). We were sitting in a park together, watching the sunrise when she grabbed my hand off of her thigh and pulled it under her skirt. She pressed my fingers under her panties and my heart skipped a beat when I felt the damp lips of her pussy. I fingered her until there was a small puddle on the bench, and then we ran off into the woods as cars were beginning to take to the roads as people made their way to their early morning jobs.
I fucked Farrah against a tree. It felt good, though her pussy wasn’t nearly as tight as Nathan’s asshole. Farrah wasn’t a virgin before I fucked her against that tree—she was open about all of her past relationships. She’d been fucked by fifteen different guys in her life. Apparently I wasn’t even the first guy to fuck her in those woods behind that little park. But I didn’t mind. I was just happy to officially lose my virginity to a woman, so I could move forward in my life as a normal, straight man.
We fucked again two nights later, at her apartment while her roommate snored on the other side of her thin bedroom wall. Farrah had a loud climax while I pumped her little wet pussy, but it wasn’t enough to wake up her roommate. He was either an impressively deep sleeper, or he was used to it; I was hoping for the former.
Farrah especially loved it when I ate her out. I didn’t mind eating her out—it was kind of fun when she let a small squirt out on my face—but I really didn’t see the point. I couldn’t tell what I was doing down there and my tongue got tired after a while. It was a week into our sexual relationship when I decided to sink a bit lower while eating her out. I started tonguing her asshole. She didn’t stop me. She even moaned as if she liked it. I pressed my tongue as far into her rubbery hole as I could, and then I drew little circles around her hole with the tip of my tongue. She moaned and squirmed. “Just fuck me already,” she said after a few minutes.
So I lined my cock up with her pussy, but I hesitated. I noticed the glimmer of my saliva around her asshole, and I wondered if it would feel the same as it felt with Nathan. Carefully I pointed my cock lower, aiming it at her tush hole. I started pushing in. “That’s my asshole,” she said.
“I know,” I said. I continued to push.
“I’m not really an ass girl,” she said.
“You’ll like it,” I said.
“I’d rather you just fuck my pussy.”
“Just give it a chance.”
“I’ve done it before. It’s just dry and awkward.” She looked uncomfortable as I finally penetrated her asshole. She became stiff and her hole clenched the tip of my cock.
“I promise you’ll like it,” I said. She had a small bottle of lubricant on her nightstand, so I poured a healthy squirt onto my cock. Then I pushed in further. She tensed up further. I had to hold her hips to stop her from squirming.
“You’re too big for my ass,” she said.
“I’m not. Just relax and you’ll stretch out.” I pushed in deeper and deeper. She closed her eyes and held her breath. Then finally, her butthole relaxed and I was able to sink in completely. My pelvis pressed against her butt. I’d never been fully inside of an asshole before. It felt good, but there was something missing—something I couldn’t put my finger on. I started pumping, sliding my cock out and then back in, watching as her butthole puckered and suctioned along my throbbing girth. It wasn’t long before she started moaning. But there was still something missing.
I pulled out and flipped her over, so I could only see her back. From behind, her hair kind of looked like Nathan’s when he wore it down. Her back even looked a bit like Nathan’s back, the way her spine curved and the way her hips flared out. I penetrated her again, this time without any resistance, and then I pumped away. I was slightly disappointed when she let me in completely, without telling me not to go too deep. I pumped as hard and as fast as I could, but there was still something off about the whole act.
I caressed her sides and I revelled in the sounds of her moaning. And then I reached around to jerk her off and found myself clutching at nothing. I realized what was missing. I felt the colour drain from my face.
There I was, fucking a girl in the asshole, pretending I was fucking my stepbrother in the asshole, wishing there was a hard cock for me to grab onto and beat off. I was depraved—a complete degenerate.
It took a few extra minutes, but I managed to finish. I pulled out and came all over Farrah’s back, and then I spent the night with her in my arms. But I didn’t sleep much. I felt guilty and defeated at the same time. I’d allowed myself to indulge one or two or three too many times with Nathan. Hell, I should have never indulged to begin with. Now I couldn’t shake the thought of him in that sexy lingerie, with that pretty eyeliner around his stunning eyes. Those thoughts weren’t fading away. After a month, they were stronger than ever before.
I kept telling myself that I just needed more time, that I just needed to sleep with more women—so that’s what I did for the rest of the summer. I found myself back on that dating app, and I found myself hooking up with different chicks around town. But it didn’t take long before I realized I was picking girls who looked the most like Nathan. Even the description of what I was looking for on my online profile was just a description of Nathan. I tried changing it to be the complete opposite of Nathan: ‘Looking for a tall brunette. Preferably introverted.’ I ended up hooking up with a tall, quiet brunette after a week of dating, but the sex was just terrible. It took me an hour to come, and she just looked disappointed—probably because I looked disappointed.
CHAPTER X
It was September 1st when Nathan came home. His arrival was quiet, in the morning before anyone was awake. I woke up to the sound of the taxi pulling away, but by the time I got dressed and out from my room, he was already in his bedroom with his door locked. I knocked quietly but there was no answer. He’d either gone straight to sleep or he wasn’t interested in talking. I figured he needed space regardless, so I waited until that afternoon before knocking at his door again.
“It’s unlocked,” he said, so I slipped in.
He was sitting on his bed reading a book. He looked up at me and smiled, but there wasn’t much joy in that smile. “Hi,” he said. “It’s been a while.”
“Two months,” I said. “Your dad said that you were visiting your mom in Utah.”
He held that forced smile. “Yeah,” he said. “I was. She’s better now.”
“I thought your mom lived out by Coombs Lake,” I said.
“She used to. I think she’s going to move back there now.” He turned his attention back to his book. I knew he was lying, but I didn’t know why he was lying to me. Why wasn’t he telling me all about his ‘pray-the-gay-away’ camp? Why wasn’t he telling me any ridiculous stories about bigoted camp counsellors?
“Well that’s good, I guess,” I said, still standing awkwardly in his doorway. “I missed you while you were gone.”
He didn’t reply. He just looked at me with that joyless smile and then he looked back at his book.
I wanted to cheer him up, and I had an idea. A couple weeks before, while searching the garage for a screwdriver, I found my sister’s old Halloween costumes, all from her slutty teenager stage. There was a Playboy Bunny costume, a sexy nurse costume, and a Catwoman costume. I snuck out to the garage now and came back with the Playboy Bunny costume, still wrapped in its clear plastic bag. “I thought you might
like this,” I said.
He looked at the costume and his cheeks turned a shade of pink. “Sorry,” he said. “But do you mind putting that back wherever you found it?” He stared at it for another few seconds and then he looked back at his book. He wasn’t the Nathan I knew. The Nathan I knew would have jumped up and grabbed the costume and it would have been on his body in a matter of seconds.
“Our parents are at a church event, and will be for another couple of hours,” I said. “You know that, right?”
“I know,” he said.
And that’s when I realized that it worked: they’d successfully prayed his gay away. Or maybe they’d tortured it away. Or maybe they’d just prayed his lust for life away. Now he was an empty vessel—a soulless body meandering through life. There was no sparkle in his eyes. That beloved smirk was nowhere to be seen.
I knew it was for the best. If he was over it, then I could start getting over it too. I couldn’t possibly spend the rest of my life reminiscing over our little fling, which had lasted less than a month. But if I knew it was for the best, why was I so disappointed? Why did I feel so empty and sad as I went back to my room?
Why was it better for him to be emotionless and vacant? Was being gay or trans or whatever really worse than being blank and unhappy?
A few days went by. Nathan didn’t leave his room much. Nothing seemed to cheer him up. I tried bringing him out to the arcade and to the mall, but even once I got him out, he still just stood there looking hollow and emotionless. “Are you okay?” I asked him one evening. “You haven’t been yourself since you’ve been back.”
“I’m okay. I’m better than ever,” he said, but he said it like a pre-programmed robot, like that’s what they told him to say if anyone asked.
GIRLIFIED: 15 BOOKS MEGA BUNDLE Page 9