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I was still pretending to be a boy when I first met my daddy. I wore men's clothes. Found a nice girlfriend. Attended college on a sport's scholarship just like my parent's wanted. I tried to live up to their expectations,

One night, I had gone to a club with my girlfriend when I saw him. I noticed him across the room. The way his eyes followed me wherever I went. The way he seemed to see right through me. I pretended not to notice and tried to ignore him, but I knew he was still watching.

A while later, I had gone to the bathroom to take a piss. As soon as I entered the stall, he barged his way in and cornered me inside. I turned around and froze in shock. What was he doing?

"You're a faggot, aren't you?"

Before I could even respond, he plunged his hand under my jeans. He covered my mouth with his other hand and pressed me against the wall as he aggressively stroked my dick.

"You can hide it all you want, but I know a bitch when I see one."

His hand couldn't muffle my moans. It felt too good. I couldn't fight it and didn't want to. Deep down, I always knew this was my place. An object to serve men. That was the last time I came with my dick.

Over the next few days, I gave everything to him. I dropped out of school. I threw out all my clothes and stopped wearing men's underwear. I let him shave off my pubes and body hair. Said he liked his girls smooth.

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