T. EloiseMature

A transsexual love journey following the intimate and graphic world of prostitution through the eyes of a woman trapped inside of man's body.

I wish it didn't have to be this way anymore. That I could just find myself in this body. Not knowing who you are drives a person mad sometimes. I know that as of yesterday, I am considered to be a free woman but who knows what free even means? Does it mean that I won't get any dirty looks for wearing clothing that I was born to wear? Does being free mean that when I look in the mirror that I won't see the disorder that I've seen for years? No, being free is only a label that someone else slaps on another.

    I've only known who I was, the name of Edwin was given to me by some run down old whore that didn't give a shit what came out that barren cavern known as her uterus. I was born into poverty, wearing rags that was supposed to be considered clothing. Goodwill hand me downs that shouldn't be  used for epileptic Chihuahua's dog bed. Yet I wore them like they were worth the hundreds of dollars I knew one day I would make performing under hot stage lights.

    That pesky wouldn't thing wouldn't go away, no matter how hard I tried and believe sister, I tried everything. The little chunk of flesh wouldn't go away and I hated myself for it. Ever sense I could walk, it's been sticking out like a sour thumb. When I was a teenager, and a fabulous one at that. I would wear the tightest of tight pants, tucking it in between my slim thighs. I would stand there after school for endless hours, naked and pale. My light skin caught the light just right so that you couldn't tell that I had it tucked into my legs and I just looked like a flat chested young slip of a thing. Every man's jailbait just waiting to be deflowered.

    Of course, I never did tell my mother, just waited for 18 to happen and left. I gave her the finger as I walked out of the door and called her pussy the “barren wasteland of which I thank for my flower of existence, peace out you old queen.” The last time I ever talked to my mother, and I have to say, very diplomatic, right? 

The End

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