Oweena added a blog entry in Life Can Be HellLife can be hellLife Can Be Hell
Dr, Oweena Scott PHD
If you knew Suzy like I knew Suzy, Oh, Oh what a gal.
Are you sure you can handle the blood and guts of my growing up? It's not a pretty story.
History has been made since I was born. The Great Depression was in full bloom that December morning of 1932 when I had my first experience of being inside of my mother's pussy on the way out. I can't remember for sure if I kissed it as I left it but it did give her some relief to know that I had all my fingers and toes. (For this reason only I can truthfully say that all children have preformed an incestuous act. They are born.)
I was probably two or three when I first started to notice my surroundings although I wasn't aware of the happenings or their reasons. Being a little child these things if they happen all the time then we accept them as being normal.
About this time in my life I was having my own problems with my being. I couldn't under stand why every one thought I was a boy. In my mind I was a girl. I wasn't built down there like a girl and I couldn't understand that either. I fought all the time to wear my sisters clothes and finally my family relented and let me be the girl I though I was and from then on I was a happy child.
As I was schooled in a one room school and the teacher was OK with my being trans-gendered (The term trans-gendered hadn't been coined yet and we were called Transvestites or some derogatory term designed to show destine) posed no problem as everyone was used to me in a dress. But that was about to stop as I met up with society.
A man wearing a dress in most states was against the law and in some of them carried a prison term to as much as 20 years. Or they were thought of as being mentally unbalanced put away on some funny farm and forgot about, which turned out to be my destiny.
In our neighborhood was a local politician who upon occasion would have his way with young girls. How he managed to keep out of jail is a mystery that I have yet to solve. All of the girls in my family had been warned about this man, me included.
On a particular occasion I was sent to a local store to get some food items that my mother needed. Mom told me to put on a pair of pants and a shirt before I left. I hated boy clothes so I didn't change and took of to the store. It was a hot muggy day and the bag of groceries was heavy and I was tired. You guessed it! Who should be driving down the road but this Creep. Of course he sees a little girl that he can have his way with. All he has to do is get her into his car. He offered me a ride home and dumb ass me I accepted.
About a half mile down the road was an old logging road. He started to slow down to turn onto the road. That's when I started to get scared especially when I discovered that there was no door handle to aid me in my escape. He drove several miles on this road before he stopped. “Now little lady you and I are going to have some fun.” And he proceeded to undress and I tried to run. He was a big man and way stronger than me and quick as I didn't get more than a couple of feet before he grabbed me.
He opened the back door and pushed me onto the seat pushing my legs into the air and ripped my panties off. That is when he discovered I wasn't a girl. HE BLEW HIS COOL!!! And started beating on me. I don't know how long he beat me as I passed out. When I came too the sun had gone down and I some how got up and started for home. To my advantage there was a full moon and I was able to see where I was going. What seemed like an eternity, I managed to walk a couple of miles when I spotted some head lights. My father had been out half the night searching for me.
The politician was arrested for assault and some how pulled some strings and was back on the street. The next thing I know I am up in front a judge and being ordered to get a psychiatrist exam. My mother's mistake was taking me to a local psychiatrist. Of course he had to be in cahoots with the politician and he recommended I he sent to Fort Steliacom State Hospital.
I arrive at the hospital with only my girl's clothes. Where to put me? They can't put me in with the female population as my life expectancy would be next to nothing. They didn't have a place for people like me for at the time hardly anything was known about mental disorders. So I was thrown into the male population.
I am thirteen years old, I'm scared, I don't know what's going to happen to me and all I could do was cry. They kept me about a week in an observation cell before putting me in with the main population. That's where my world as I knew it went to shit. I was taken to what they called the day room and told to stay there until I was called.
“What the hell we got here? They put a little girl in with us! I get Dibs on getting to fuck her first.” For the next few days I hung around the orderly and nurse's station. It was the only place where I had any protection. A person has to go to the restroom sometime and they couldn't spare an orderly every time I needed to pee. I was given a room that they locked up at night probably for my safety but in the daytime it was down a hallway that the nurse's station had no clear view.
One morning after breakfast, I needed something from my room. I couldn't get an orderly to go with me so I thew caution to the wind and went anyway. My back was to the doorway and all at once arms pinned me and I was bent over my bed. My panties were ripped off and arms held me where I had limited movement. I screamed for help but none came. (Why should they? Someone was always screaming for some reason or other.) Next I was being penetrated and the pain was almost more than I could bare. The guy had his way with me and was replaced by another and then another. This went on until the dinner bell was wrung. I managed to get to the nurse's station and told them what happened. They patched me up and left me to my own devices.
Nothing was done to the men who raped me. I was told not to hang around the nurse's station anymore. I couldn't avoid those guys as they laid in wait for me and the raping continued almost on a daily basis. Over time it no longer hurt and I was getting to enjoy the penetration and began looking for guys to have their way with me.
After being on the ward for almost a year, I became the ward slut. It was useless to try to wear any panties as they would be taken off of me before lunch time.
Another cross-gendered person was on the ward for awhile and we being of kindred spirits took up a friendship of sorts. After a couple of months she left the hospital. Before she left she told me if I ever got out to contact her and gave me her phone number.
My father came to some hard times and no longer could afford to pay for my keep. I had a miraculous recovery. I was told to pack my bags and be ready to leave in an hour. I was escorted off the grounds and told to leave. I was pointed towards town. I hadn't walked more that a couple of blocks before it started to rain (It rains a lot in Washington State.) I was cold, I was hungry, I was wet and basically lost. I saw a service station and made for it. For some reason I had saved Roxanne's phone number. I was standing under the awning trying to be out of the rain.
The attendant came out and wanted to know what I was doing. “Need to use the telephone to call my friend but I don't have a nickel” He gave me a nickel and pointed me to the phone. I was in luck Roxanne was home and only lived a few blocks away.
After a hot bath and dry clothes and food I started to feel human again.
The next day Roxanne asked me if I had any plans and I told her I needed to find some kind of work but I didn't think anyone would hire me because I would be sixteen for another ten months. “How would you feel about being a prostitute? You already know how to please a man from your experience in the hospital. You could make a lot of money.”
“But I'm not a girl.”
“Neither am I silly, the guys I deal with don't want women, they would love you because you are young. I'm lucky to score twenty five bucks a trick but you could get a hundred or more. I know you could do eight to ten tricks a night. What do you say?”
It didn't take me long to make up my mind! At lease now I had a way to make money.
I called home and told my parents that I was going to stay in Tacoma for awhile. Mom asked me what I was going to do and I told her the truth that I was going to try being a prostitute for awhile. “IF YOU DO, DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT COMING HOME!!!” And she hung up the phone.
I did quite well as a prostitute. Within weeks I had a steady clientele and becoming a first class call girl. I was making more money in a week than my father could make all year.
After I turned sixteen I decided to go home for a visit. I drove up our driveway in a brand new Chrysler Imperial. My Dad met me at the door with a double barreled shot gun. “If you are going to shoot me do it now because you will never get a better chance.” Why I did what I did next surprised me and my father. I snatched the gun out of his hand. It went off and blew a hole in the porch roof.
I told my parents that I was going to stay for awhile until I figured out what I was going to do. Not much they could do to stop me as I was still under age.
I found a little house for sale in town and I bought it and moved into town. I got a job as a cashier at a Woolworth Five & Dime store and settled down to a subdued way of life. Then one day who do you think showed up at my checkout? You guessed it, our friend the creep. I thought he was going to recognize me but a couple of years had passed and I had changed some. I was still a young girl and he immediately tried to put the make on me. DON'T TELL ME THAT REVENGE ISN'T SWEET as I came up with an idea that would save any future young girls from this creep.
He asked me out and I told him I already had a boyfriend. For the next few weeks I strung him along. He came into the shop sometimes two or three times a day.
I found a leather worker to make me some restraints similar to the ones that they had at the State Hospital. I got a hold of Roxanne and had her get me some knock out drops. Now I was ready.
The next time the creep showed up in my check out counter and asked me out I said yes. I told him that I would meet him at the Shelton Hotel on Saturday and gave him the room number.
He showed up on time and I handed him a drink laced with knock out drops. I only wanted him to be out a short while so I only used enough to put him out long enough for me to prepare him for what he was going to receive.
He passed out on the bed and I undressed him, put a plastic sheet under him to catch the blood that he was going to lose. Cuffed his hands and feet to the bed posted and waited for him to wake up.
“"Remember the little girl/boy you almost beat to death and latter had shanghaied into The State Hospital? Well I am that girl/boy and what you are about to receive is my revenge."
I had a blow torch heating up a soldering iron until it was sherry red. It was a good thing I made sure he was properly gagged as the scream he made as I touched his gonads to the hot soldering iron could have been heard in the next county. I left his gonads cook for several seconds as I wanted to make sure he could never fuck another young girl.
While he was passed out, I cleaned up the room and left.
It wasn't long after that, his wife left him, his political career was ruined and he jumped off a cliff into the Puget Sound.
I went on with my life.
As I was young and passed well as a young woman, I really didn't have any trouble with the law. I came and went pretty much as I pleased.
I still was having a problem relating to my problem. I talked to several psychiatrists about my problem with no results. I thought. “If I can't find anyone to help me then I will have to learn to help my self.” That's when I decided to go to college to become a clinical psychologist.
With a fresh GED in hand, I took the college exam and almost didn't pass. Southern Missouri University must have needed to fill some seats as I was accepted, and for the next eight years I somehow managed to keep a passing grade average. Even in the 70's it cost an arm and a leg to attend a college, so I reverted to my experience as prostitute to pay my way. (“ A person has to do what a person has to do. At the time I may have had other options but a dollar an hour doesn't pay for college and I needed the education. I am not proud of what I thought I had to do to achieve my goal. I am proud of the results.”)
My professors were no help. When ever I asked them for input about my problem it was like I had called them a bad name. So I left college with a fresh diploma and PHD in hand and knowing no more than I did eight years ago.
I read that Houston,Texas was looking for a psychologist in their county health department and I applied for the position and was accepted so I moved to Houston.
YOU DON'T WANT TO WORK AS A PSYCHOLOGIST. All your patients want you to solve their problems or give them feel good medicine. They seemed to not understand that I couldn't solve their problems but could only help them learn to learn to deal with theirs. It didn't take me long to figure out that I chose the wrong carrier. So after three years I quit and went back into the trades as a tool sharpener. And it paid better
I am pretty much retired. I do sometimes lecture on the subject that I am most familiar with at local colleges.
For those who read this, I ask you to walk a mile in my shoes before you criticize me for the actions I took to survive.
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