A story based in the real world. For some reason, a high school boy named J.J. went to sleep and didn't wake up for nearly 3 years. Someone else was awake in his place ...
Chapter 5 of 13
Copyright© 2017 plaintivesigh
All Rights Reserved.
WARNING: This chapter deals with memories of explicit physical and sexual abuse.
Two days later, Bob and Becky were sitting together in Dr. Rama’s office in front of a large television screen. They’d been both asked to come – but not for a meeting with their child. So both were getting impatient to see why they were there.
“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” they heard from the opening door; in walked Rama. “I wanted to show you two something we recorded this morning.” He grabbed a remote control handset off of his desk, and pointed it at the TV. “Nova doesn’t trust me – or anyone here – fully yet; but she opened up quite a bit about her past during our session today.” After clicking through a few menus, a video started to play.
Nova was sitting in a room with pictures and white walls, a chair and a table; little else. She was unrestrained, but obviously the room appeared fairly escape-proof. Dr. Rama was in the room with her.
Becky broke in. “Pause the recording, please. Doctor? Why is her hair so short all of a sudden?”
“Oh – forgive me for not preparing you two. After her failed attempted escape the other day, she was severely depressed and felt to be likely suicidal. So we had to cut her hair. Long hair can hang a person as effectively as a noose, if one is inventive enough; and I felt your daughter was at risk,” said Rama.
“Into a pixie cut – it’s almost a boy cut. Is this somehow supposed to make Nova cooperate more with us? It seems like it could do the opposite!” Becky fumed. “She’s still a minor. Shouldn’t you have called us for permission before this was done?”
“I like it,” reasoned Bob. “He looks more like J.J. now.”
Rama attempted to put out this unintended little fire. “She actually has been rather silent about her new hairstyle. And it didn’t keep her from opening up this morning in therapy. Now, please, let me play this for you.” He dimmed the lights and pressed ‘play’, and the two figures on the screen - Nova and Dr. Rama – became unfrozen.
“So. Tell me your earliest memory, Nova,” said the doc.
Nova sat and twiddled her thumbs, sighing. “Okay. The earliest thing I can remember is also a horrible thing. I remember coming awake, and it being totally dark; I then realized I had some kind of blindfold on. I didn’t recall where I was, or who I was even. What I did know, somehow, is that I was a girl.”
“Hmm. Nova - that was definite and unmistakable, this feeling of being female?”
“Yes. I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I was a girl – a strong one – and I had to survive.”
Nova tilted her head at the doctor. “Being raped and held against my will, of course. When I awoke that first time, my hands were tied behind my back and someone was entering me – my ass – from behind. And my mouth was gagged. See? I told you it was horrible.”
“That’s extremely horrible. Who was doing this to you?”
The girl shrugged. “All I ever knew them as were Bolivar and Fausto. Don’t even know if those were their real names; they were my owners. They raped me regularly, and pimped me out to other men who came looking for young boy sex. I had no formal interaction with them except when they yelled orders at me; most of the time they kept me chained up in a closed room that looked like a basement. That’s where all the raping happened, too.”
Dr. Rama looked visibly pained. “My God. You’ve been through hell.”
“I’m back there, doc.”
Rama was puzzled. “You’re back there? Do you mean in your thoughts?”
“No,” Nova sighed. “I’m back in HELL. Locked up in this place with a bunch of lunatics, away from my guy back in Rio.” She looked away as an angry tear trailed down her cheek. “I mean, I’m not being forced to have sex – not yet, at least. Who knows what goes on in these psycho wards, though, right?” ‘
“The sooner we help you get better, the closer you will come to leaving here, Nova,” replied Rama. “Is Rio where this abuse took place?”
“No; I lived in a basement, so I couldn’t get a bearing on my surroundings really. But I could hear my owner’s conversations. Once they mentioned Fortaleza, Brazil as the city we lived in. I can understand Portuguese pretty well.”
Dr. Rama held up his pen. “That may be because J.J. – your other personality – is fluent in Spanish and German. Much Portuguese is not that far removed from Spanish. I’ll bet if you heard some German, you’d understand it too.”
Nova sighed. “My ‘other personality’. As crazy as that sounds to me – I mean, I feel like THIS is who I am – it does explain why I can’t remember any of my life before that damn basement.”
Dr. Rama rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger under his glasses. “I’m sorry, I diverted us. You have claimed your father abused you; how did you arrive at that conclusion?”
“Over the next year, I overheard Fausto and Bolivar talking enough to put some things together: they had bought me on the black market, to use as a sex toy and to pimp out to bring in money for them - evidently I was a ‘sweet looking gringo boy’ who some perverts prefer to women - and it was my dad who had sold me to them. They also remarked that they got me at a discount because I wasn’t a ‘virgin’; seems Daddy made sure to take that from me before selling me.”
Brenda snapped her head sideways to stare wide-eyed at her husband. Bob shook his head emphatically, denying the accusation.
“They started to give me shots to make me more curvy, like a girl; they didn’t want me to start looking like a hairy hombre as I got older. They thought I’d make more money for them as a travesti. Oh, and they thought up a really cheap and fun way to castrate me; it involved a zip tie. I’ll let you fill in the blanks. I almost died from bleeding when my scrotum finally fell off.”
Dr. Rama shook his head. “Nova – I’m so sorry this happened to you. You were enslaved, tortured, abused and made into a woman against your will. How terrible.”
“Actually, I wanted to become a physical female. I didn’t tell my ‘owners’ that; somehow in their sick minds I think they would have stopped the shots just because I desired them. Anyway, I like the changes it made in my body; Sabio thinks I’m pretty sexy. After I was rescued, I made some friends in the transsexual community in Rio; I have a friend who scores a hormone shot for me from the free clinic every few weeks or so.”
Dr. Rama looked at the ceiling and began clicking his pen. “Getting hormonal treatment as a young teenager who appeared late for his male puberty – that likely produced the look that you have. All the secondary sex characteristics of a normal female appear to be present, except of course for reproductive organs.”
Nova smirked. “Is that your ‘fancy psychiatrist’ way of saying you think I’m hot?”
Rama ignored that and continued. “In fact, I would venture to say that your development is at extreme top of the range for a 16 year old – I would expect this look more from a woman in her mid-20’s. It makes me concerned that you might have been given dangerously high doses of estrogen. It doesn’t sound like you were under a doctor’s care with those shots. Nova – that could have killed you.”
Nova looked suddenly depressed. “You’re going to stop my hormone treatments, aren’t you. It figures. This place smells more like hell every day.”
“No, I’m not going to stop them. I’m going to get a consultant on your case – an endocrinologist who specializes in transgender treatment. If she says to continue the therapy then I will do so without hesitation. But you will be doctor-supervised in this."
Rama eased his verbal tone from scolding back to inquisitive. “So, did you have mixed feelings about your ‘owners’ then? At least with the feminizing process, it sounds like they did some things you appreciated them for.”
The young girl’s eyes became fiery with anger. “You misogynistic bastard – there is NO WAY IN HELL I owe them any appreciation! Whatever they did for me, it wasn’t worth the shit I went through. To even suggest that shows how screwed up you are!
“On some occasions I'd hear Fausto and Bolivar talk to each other about when they should just get rid of me. I felt that if I became too much trouble for them – if I opposed them enough – they would just kill me and be done with it. On the occasion when I did fight or resist the sex, they beat me and denied me food and water. So I did what I had to do to survive. I just disengaged my brain as much as I could while those monsters used me. And I bided my time, waiting for an opening, a chance to escape. And one finally came, in the blessed form of a boy named Sabio.”
Dr. Rama wrote with his pen onto a pad. “Does Sabio have a last name?”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, and it’s rather long. It’s I’M-NOT-TELLING-YOU-SO-GO-TO-HELL.”
The doc kept his composure. “That’s fine. How did this Sabio help you escape?”
“Sabio had an old pervert uncle who liked to fuck she-males, and the wrinkly asshole paid Bolivar for some time with me. He needed to see me to be convinced to ante up, so they paraded me out of the basement into the hall – without the usual bag over my head, for some reason. Sabio was there, to help his uncle get up and down the stairs. It was the first time I’d seen anyone who wasn’t there to personally use me. I looked at him while the others talked, and mouthed “ayudame” – Spanish for 'help me' – to him.”
Nova began to sniffle, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I felt like a fool, especially when he stood there and did nothing. I went back into my room and his old uncle had his way with me. But then two days later, both Bolivar and Fausto were out and I was chained as usual in the basement. I hear the front door and then the basement door being forced open. It was Sabio – with a chain cutter. He got me out of there, and out of town. I was a little worried he was going to chain me up too; every man I’d ever met to that point was an evil son-of-a-bitch, after all.”
She raised her head up high for the first time, and smiled through her tears. “But no. Sabio loved me. Even after he found out I wasn’t a regular woman. For the last year, I’ve been living with him, and we wanted to get married. I refused to, though, until I had some things settled.”
“When he rescued me, I still had no identification or any way of verifying who I was. I didn’t even have a name, except escravo – ‘slave’. I chose my own name, Nova for new and Liberte’ for freedom. Because that’s how I feel with Sabio – new and free. Since I wasn’t technically an adult yet, I went by Luisa Blanco, figuring I could stay hidden with that until age 18. That plan obviously failed, ‘cause I’m here.
“Also, I wanted to be as complete a woman as I could be; that meant getting rid of that damn penis. I ended up prostituting myself for the money – boy, was Sabio against that, but we had no other way and I insisted I had to. Besides, this time I was the one in control of the situation. In April of this year we found a surgeon who would bypass the usual needed counselor visits and didn’t ask about my age; and I became a functional female. Not that I got to use my new assets very long before I got enslaved again.”
Dr. Rama raised his head. “Enslaved again?”
“YES! HERE, you dickhead!”
“Nova. I know you don’t like being here, but you need help.”
“What I NEED is to GET AWAY from my abusive Mom and Dad and back to Sabio! Hell, I don’t even remember this couple that call themselves my parents! I don’t remember my home, or that room they had me in! I have nothing tying me down here! I need to get back to Rio de Janeiro!”
“You – you don’t remember your past life – years zero through 14 – at all?”
“The only thing I had in my head was a name – Evarist. In the public library in Rio I did searches under that name, and found out about an Evarist boy who went missing in Kissimmee, Florida. He was supposed to have killed a girl. His picture – it was me. Me as a boy, but unmistakably me. I saw the pictures of the boy’s parents and burned them into my skull – my father the rapist who sold me into sex slavery, and the mother who let him. That’s the only way I knew ‘mom’; she looks like she’s aged a lot, and ‘dad’ - well, he's become the Goodyear blimp.
“See, here’s the thing, doctor. I’m not this J.J. boy. I’m Nova Liberte’. This ‘J.J.’ person may have murdered this girl, but I didn't, because I’m not him. There is nothing for me here. I have a life back in Rio. Not a rich one, but it’s MINE. I have a lover there too, and he needs me. J.J. is not coming back; he’s not welcome to. I have no parents – I don’t know these fuckers. Please don’t keep me here; please, please let me go!”
Dr. Rama pulled a large folder from his briefcase and put it on the table. “I have a lot of information and pictures of your life for the 14 years you lived before you ‘awoke’ as Nova. I think you’ll find some of this fascinating; with your permission, I’ll show it to you.”
The doc raised his head. “Beg your pardon?”
The physician was at a loss for words; he thought she’d have some curiosity about her past.
Nova craned her neck forward. “Earth to Doc. Are you deaf, or just dense? No. NO. I DON’T WANT ANY OF MY OLD LIFE, KNOWLEDGE OR OTHERWISE. Look where it got me! Let me go so I can enjoy my new life, please!”
“I’ll do anything else you say, or want; just let me go. Is there anything I can do?” She started to choke up, and then reached a hand across the table, touching the doctor’s lapel. Suddenly she glanced up directly into the camera, and pulled her arm back. Covering her mouth with her hand, she whispered something inaudible; then sat back, silent except for a furtive look towards Rama.
The recording stopped. Bob shook his head as Becky leaked a few silent tears.
“What she whispered to me,” said Dr. Rama, “was basically an offer for a sexual favor. I don’t get the feeling she was being devious; just desperate. If even half of what she told me was true, then sex is probably the only thing she feels she can offer a man to get something.
“She has agreed to meet with Becky tomorrow. She refuses to talk if you, Bob, are in the room. I’m sorry,” Rama finished.
Bob looked weary, and defensive. “Doc – you don’t believe her, do you? That crap about me raping her and selling her to slavery? I don’t know about all the other stuff, but I can guarantee you the part about me is false.”
“Robert. Nothing about you suggests you are an abuser. Having said that, I take all accusations with at least some validity until I’m sure that they are not true. Even if it is all false, I can tell you we will get nowhere right now with you and her in the same room.”
Bob sighed. “And if she changes her mind and is ‘okay’ with me being there?”
Rama’s expression hardened. “You would not be allowed to see her unless I personally determined that she is not in danger around you.” He paused for emphasis. “Now to both of you: good night. I shall see you tomorrow at around 10 a.m., Becky?”
“I’ll be there, sir,” she replied.
Bob looked at his wife. “We’re okay, right?”
Becky didn’t return his gaze. “Yeah … yes. We’re still okay. I believe you, Bobby. But know this: if I ever – ever – find out you’ve lied, about any part of this …” she walked on ahead without continuing her thought.
To be continued tomorrow.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to an actual person or situation is purely coincidental.
Thanks to cyclist, whose advise and editorial skills have elevated this tale to 100x better than it was when I submitted it to her. She is one of the shining stars of our community!
Thanks to JenaJumbled for the awesome picture.
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