All characters in sexual situations are fictional and 18 years of age and older.
Sensitive readers are warned!
The story contains elements of coercion and trauma, but nothing illegal since I was above the age of consent. This story is real and happened to me growing up.
The backstory long so skip to the second "---------------" for the purely sexual part
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I had once again had been fighting with my foster care family and honestly I just wanted to get out of there and/or die. We had been arguing quite a lot lately. They together with my social worker had tried to force me into trauma therapy and I really didn't want to do it. I never wanted to think, talk or remember what had happened and it felt like they wanted the exact opposite of that.
The first time that I met him was when I ran away after one of those fights and went to the library to escape the cold spring evening. Standing at the checkout was my classmate's older brother Matthew. Since he was almost double the age of his brother he had moved out and I had only seen him through my classmates tagging him in posts. He seemed like a strange but sweet guy. I walked up to him and soon we were chatting and joking like we were long lost friends. I don't remember what we were talking about but I remember how it made me feel. He made me feel a special way, indescribable by words because it was so intense and deep and all, at a time when I most needed it. He laughed at my jokes, was interested in my life and it filled me with warmth
. He looked at me and I felt seen. He looked at me and made me feel like I was the only person who existed to him right then and there. To him this was important, I was important.
Before he left I told him I really enjoyed talking to him. I left with a warm feeling in my body and soul, but a little sad that he left and I was back in the reality where my life felt like shit.
Later that day I got a notification from instagram, he had found me there through his brother and said it was nice talking to me. After that day we texted every day, all day long, which my teachers weren't too happy about, but summerbreak was only a week away so I couldn't care less about what the hell my teachers wanted. To be honest, I didn't care what anyone or anything wanted. I just wanted to get away. Not only from school but from everything. I just wanted to forget my past and my presence and when I texted with Matthew it was like everything else vanished. When we texted it was like I was in another world, like nothing else existed but him and I. The problem was when he didn't answer, the only thing I could think about was when and what he would write and if i had said or done something wrong. When he wrote, the whole world collapsed and he caught me in his arms. When he didn't text me, it felt like my whole entire world crashed. I did everything I could to get him to write to me, but I was so afraid of sounding like the obsessed teenager I was. It was my personal heaven or hell depending ion f he texted me back or not. After a couple of weeks he started to sometimes write weird stuff, but I didn't really react at first. When he wrote strange things, I just thought he was writing it as a joke. It wasn't dangerous or mean, but it felt awkward sometimes.,so I just let it go, change the subject or go along with the "joke". I was so naive. Just one of the strange things he wrote
-So you are not totally innocent, are you;)?
-Haha, what do you mean?
-Well you've played games before...
-I mean yea?
I didn't really understand what he meant but I didn't want him to think Im stupid or realize I'm too young to use the same slang as him. I understood it was something, but Ijust brushed it off as him being his silly strange self and thought we'd soon change the topic. He didn't answer my text, which made me sit and stare at my phone crying all night because I was afraid I had written something wrong and now he wanted nothing to do with me. But he replied the next day like nothing had happened and I once again was glued to my phone again just waiting for the next response and then the next one.
We fought at home again and I was honestly pissed they wouldn't just leave me alone. They wanted me to go to therapy to talk about what dad did to me, but didn't get the point. I didn't want to think about what dad had done to me, let alone talk about that with anyone.I I just wanted to pretend nothing had happened. Well at least that was what I said to them. When I thought about dad too much I actually texted Matthew about how I felt and some of the stuff that had happened. None of my friends knew about it, they just knew I moved to foster care but not why. My social worker sucked so it wasn't like I could talk to her. He was the only one I felt I could talk to about this stuff. He listened to me and comforted me. It felt like he at my darkest times was holding me tight and keeping me safe through our texts. Every time he didn't answer, I sat there in a panic, wondering what I had done wrong. I was on edge all the time because I didn't want to say anything that would make him abandon me too. I needed him.I really really needed him.
One night I was sitting on the couch watching TV with my "family". Well, mostly I was sucked into the conversation me and Mattiew had on my phone and them watching some stupid reality show. We were talking about a computer game I liked that he also liked when he sent me a meme. Or so it was a picture of his favorite character with the text "nudes?" edited over. I froze. Why did he always have to do this? There hadn't gone a day lately without him constantly bringing up weird topics and I was getting sick of it but I was too afraid of losing him to dare say anything so I just replied:
-Haha
-?
I turned off my phone and joined in on the show they were watching. I wrote him later that day but he did not answer for several days after. It felt like hell.I was so mad at myself about making him leave me. Why was I like this? It was so childish of me to answer that way. He knew how I felt about my body so I should have just sent some funny meme back instead of making it awkward. I made him feel uncomfortable by even thinking that that pic was serious. I didnt know what to do. I just wanted to escape my reality once again and talk to him. I needed him.
His first message after several days of what felt to me like mental torture.
-Want to come over tonight? I can make dinner.
The whole world faded away and I almost felt high. There he was. He hadn't left me. Everything felt okay. Everything was perfect. I couldn't fuck this up again. I just didn't want to fuck things up again. I wanted to hold on to this feeling forever.
- Sure, what time?
- I get off work at 17:00, so give me some time and I'll see you after that.
- What are we gonna do?
- Leave it up to me, it'll be a fun surprise.
-But like are going somewhere after dinner? Should I bring a jacket and like what time should I go home?
- I thought you could sleep over, the bed is quite big and I can sleep on the couch. I don't want you to take the bus alone so late in the evening. You know there are unfortunately some men who see someone like you and... i cant even say it. You have already been through so much.I could not forgive if something had happened to you.
I felt such a warmth in my heart every time we talked, he cared about me in a way no one ever had ever before. He treated me so softly and kindly. Even though I was trying to be so tough on the outside, I felt so fragile, small and hurt on the inside and I think he saw that.
I told my foster mom that I was going to sleep over at a friend's house. That was true,.But if I had said it was my friend's older brother was twice my age, she probably would have taken my phone away never to be seen again and made sure I was moved to another home in some village in the middle of nowhere.
Everything was prepared. He sent over money for the bus ticket and said he would pick me up with his car from the bus stop to drive the last bit to his house. I was so nervous. What if I said something dumb and he wanted me to leave? I can't ask my family home to pick me up from somewhere they don't even know I am? What if he thinks I'm boring? Or ugly? Or bad? Or immature? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe I should cancel. But where would I go? I wanted this, I tried to remind myself. Why did I always have to think so much?
His apartment was nicer than I expected, a little nerdy which was sweet. I noticed the sofa was two-seater.It would have been impossible to sleep in if you were his size, but maybe he had misspoke and wanted me to sleep on it, not him. He had already set the table and to my great relief there was a bottle on the table. We started talking and even though it was the second time we met it felt like he had known me forever. I couldn't remember the last time I had this much fun. The world outside of this room just kind of disappeared. All my problems just dissolved into nothingness when I talked to him. No social workers. No talk about therapy. No arguing. Just him and me.
After we ate, he sat on the couch and patted his knee, like he was trying to signal to me to sit on his lap. I thought he was joking. He continued patting and looking more demandingly at me. I thought that it was some fun bit he played so I walked over giggling all over myself and sat on his lap. Shit. Was giggling too much? I had only had one glass? What if he noticed and thinks I'm immature for not being able to handle more. I looked up and the room was slowly spinning around him. Does that mean I'm spinning too? Does he notice? Just in case, I jumped closer to him on his lap and pressed myself against him. I tried not to giggle but it all felt funny for some reason. I couldn't believe it was true. That someone like him wanted to listen to me, wanted to spend time with me and would even consider paying for the bus ride here. All just because he wanted to see me. I felt so happy and loved sitting in his lap. He wrapped one arm around me while the other was playing with my hair. Ifelt so relaxed tand safe hat I could fall asleep. He looked at me, laughing, and said that it was probably far past my bedtime.
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He lifted me to the bed. I felt so small But small and safe. He helped me take off my hoodie, saying it is way too warm to sleep in.
-But little one, how long have you been wearing your binder*? You know that taking breaks is very important. You can't sleep in it, you might hurt yourself.I don't want you to hurt.
(*garment similar to a sports bra but used to hide/reduce breasts, usually used by ftm)
- Well... I... I don't want you to see me without it. I need it.
