Not A Girl

This story very briefly uses the characters Katie, Liam, Pat, Brendan, Niall and Jimmy from my story Some Gave All which I posted here last summer:

This story is related to that one, as it tells about things that happened at the orphanage after those six kids ran away in May of 2006.

Most of the story is told from one boy's viewpoint, i. e., memories of what happened to himself and some other boys there.

Be warned, this story is about various kinds of abuses against a group of children. It also includes children dying due to accidents or stupidity on multiple occasions, in two cases by suicide/suspected suicide. This is NOT a suitable story for what one might call 'light reading'.


1. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 2:15 PM EDT, Tuesday May 9, 2006

Mrs. Honoria O'Shaughnessy met with four of her employees that afternoon to discuss some of the boys living in the orphanage.

"Jennie, Beth, Vera, Catherine, we have that large back room on the third floor that isn't being used at the moment, correct?"

The four women who had been named all nodded, then waited for Mrs. O'Shaughnessy to continue.

"Have the four of ye noticed that some boys here, the ones a few years from their teens or just reaching that point, look girlish?" she asked.

The four women nodded again, then Vera replied, "Aye, Keith O'Bannon, Peter Banks, Bobby Foster, Johnny Carver just to name a few."

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy displayed a shark smile, "Right, those four and others. Maybe we can push them into acting or being more feminine?"

Jennie giggled, she thought this could be fun. "A little physical help to remind them from time to time should help to keep them in line."

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy laughed, "A girl after me own heart, ye are, Jennie! My ironwood ruler and these should do the trick." She opened a long, narrow bag sitting on the end of the table and pulled out half a dozen stout rods, each one about two feet long and two inches thick.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy continued speaking, "Smack a child with the side of one of those, they'll be crying pretty quickly. If they get a little too sassy with one of you, a sharp poke under the ribs will slow them down and remind them who the bosses are here in my orphanage."

The four women nodded, each of them picking up one of the rods that were lying on the table in front of Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy showed that shark grin again, then said, "Beth, give these last two rods to Jimmy Baker and Tony Felucci."

Beth nodded, Jimmy and Tony were the men who watched the cameras and patrolled inside the orphanage every night from 9 PM to 7 AM. What the children didn't know was that there were several cameras well hidden in each dormitory to keep an eye on the kids.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy swept her gaze across the four women, then spoke again, her final words at this suddenly called staff meeting. "From now on, when we decide a boy should be girlied up, they'll be moved into that back room and they'll stay there until they leave here."

Beth, Jennie and Vera were all house wardens, staff in charge when Mrs. O'Shaughnessy wasn't present, but they also had other duties in the orphanage. Beth was the orphanage's secretary and accountant, Jennie did all of the laundry and Vera organized the cleaning duties.

Catherine was the orphanage's cook, she listened but said nothing and followed the other three women from the main office.


2. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, approximately 1:00 AM EDT, Wednesday May 10, 2006

Keith, later to be known as Katie, never went through that unofficial program, as he and the other five boys mentioned in the story Some Gave All (see link at top of story) chose that night to run away from the orphanage. They had all had enough of the rampant abuse there.

Liam was the tallest of the six of them and had swung a sock loaded with odds and ends at the cameras they had discovered a few days earlier. Once several of the cameras had been blinded, the six boys had scampered out of their dormitory and into a nearby washroom.

Jimmy had come up to check on the cameras that suddenly weren't working, as well as to check that the kids were in their beds.

As soon as the six heard Jimmy enter the dormitory, they slipped out of the bathroom and quietly made their way to the front entrance of the orphanage. They had made it almost to the front door when the second guard, Tony, stepped out from the small security room.

"What the heck do ye boys think ye're doing running around down here at this time of night?" he barked at them.

As one, the six boys yelled, "We're leaving this hellhole!" then the three largest, Liam, Pat and Jimmy hit Tony in a combined rush that left the much bigger man lying on the floor with a bruised shoulder and two cracked ribs from where he had bounced off the door frame.

Five of the six boys left Tony lying there, ready to run right out the door, then Jimmy realized Tony had the keys for the building and quickly searched the injured man while whispering to Liam and Pat to hold him down. The keys were soon found and a moment later, the door was open. The six boys ran outside, Jimmy throwing the keys back inside, then they raced off into the dark of the night and were soon gone.


3. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 3:51 PM EDT, Wednesday May 10, 2006

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy met us at the front door as we returned from the parish school beside St. Agnes Church several blocks from here. St. Agnes had been taking the boys from the orphanage in as students and school had ended about twenty minutes earlier.

I have no idea how long this place has been open, but every day I wish someone would strike down that bitch Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. If you do anything in there that she deems to be wrong in even the slightest way, you'll get a solid rapping from that ironwood ruler.

I have to admit I've crossed her a few times already, and god almighty, that damn ruler hurts like hell!

Anyway, as the horde slowly entered the building under her watchful eye, she started calling out names. "Peter Banks, Robert Foster, John Carver, Angus O'Reilly, Steven Armitage, Albert Vincent, Thomas Callahan, please follow Beth. No slacking, boys, move!"

Oh, for the record, I'm Angus Sean O'Reilly. I ended up in this horrible place about three weeks ago. I was the only kid in our family, and that came to a brutal and shocking end in the middle of April when my parents went out on a date and never returned.

They left me in the care of a babysitter now and then when they wanted to go out and have some fun. Heck, I'm only six, gosh darn it!

Well, some idiotic jerk decided to go into the restaurant where they were dining and hold up the place. I'm not exactly sure just what happened there, but said idiotic jerk became angry and started shooting. My parents were two of the seven people that died there that night.

The other people in the restaurant were held hostage for almost two hours before a police sniper took the guy out after he shot someone else.

We had been doing okay, I guess, mostly staying ahead of the bills, then they were dead and everything was wiped out with the funeral costs.

Mom had been disowned by her family when she became engaged to dad years ago and I had never met anyone from her side. Dad was an only child; his parents were both in their late seventies and quite frail, as well as being poor, so they wouldn't be able to care for me.

I ended up in the hellhole just four days after my parents died. The funeral had barely ended when I was hauled away by a social worker.


4. A community center near the former O'Shaughnessy orphanage building, 4:10 PM EST, Friday January 5, 2018

They closed the O'Shaughnessy orphanage down just before the 2017 calendar year ended.

The other kids from the orphanage have been staying in a community center a few blocks away from the former orphanage.

I just finished doing a 72 hour psychiatric assessment that was ordered by a judge last week. I'm not going to explain why just yet.

The legal process is slowly picking up speed. Five city councillors have been indicted, as well as half a dozen social workers plus the staff members at the orphanage, including the two night guards. The staff are facing very serious legal penalties for their actions.

Why is this happening, you ask? Well, I guess I'll have to tell you. Mind you, it isn't a pretty story.


5. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:15 PM EDT, Wednesday May 10, 2006

Those of us who had been named by that bitch Mrs. O'Shaughnessy walked along behind Beth, up the stairs and then around and up them again to the third floor of the building. She led us to a large room at the back that now had twenty cots spaced out along the walls.

We were told to go in and pick a cot. Just after the last of us had entered the room, we heard a key turn in the door.

It only took a very brief moment for us to discover we had been locked into the room and there were no windows and no other exits.

I made a fuss for a few minutes, but eventually realized that it wasn't making any difference at all in our situation and stopped.

I had an old Timex kid's watch that had been passed down to me from my dad for my last birthday. The time showed 4:26 PM.

We sat there on those shabby, small cots and waited for what turned out to be a bit over half of an hour.

We could also see what looked like four open toilet cubicles, four of those tight square showers and four sinks at the far end of the room.

Just after five PM, the key was in the lock again and the door opened, revealing four women blocking the doorway.

Each of these women had what looked like a thick wooden rod in one hand. The four entered the room; Beth turned, shut the door, then faced us again. Beth remained standing by the doorway as an obvious sign that she was there to prevent us from leaving the room.

Jennie smirked at the seven of us, the oldest among us was barely nine and only slightly taller than me.

Jennie and Vera stalked around us for several minutes, then Beth decided to enter the fray, sending Catherine to stand by the door.

Beth stood in front of Thomas and myself, then hissed, "Ye boys are special, ye'll be learning a whole new lifestyle now!"

None of us had a clue what she was talking about, then Beth ordered Jennie to grab the bag from outside of the room.

Catherine opened the door, watching us closely, then closed it again as soon as Jennie returned with the big black garbage bag.

Jennie dropped the bag on the floor in the middle of the room, opened it, then started tossing girls' clothing at the seven of us.

It was an instinctual reaction to catch the flying items. A quick look showed me that the clothing I held would fit reasonably well.

Beth spoke again, "Ye lot, strip now and put on the clothes ye've just been given. While in this house, ye'll wear only girl things!"

We just stood there gaping like fish out of water until Beth lashed out with that thick rod, smacking Johnny's left side fast and hard.

Of course, Johnny yelped due to the pain that had just been inflicted and the seven of us scurried to put on the girly clothing. That clothing turned out to be panties, a set of tights each and a knee length dress with long sleeves. It was still only early spring after all.

Jennie apparently decided I wasn't getting dressed quickly enough, as I soon ended up being smacked with the rod in her hand.

Once we were all dressed to their satisfaction, the four women left the room, locking the door again.

That was the last time I saw that boy's model wind-up Timex watch for almost a dozen years.


6. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 3:45 PM EDT, Friday May 19, 2006

It didn't take very long for us to realize that if we didn't do as we were told and promptly, one or all of us would be hit by those nasty rods.

A couple of days after we ended up in that room on the third floor, we entered it to find a large table and chairs in the middle of the room.

When I asked what the table was for, Beth laughed and told me that we would be eating our meals in here from this time forward.

We soon found out that she had told us the truth, we never again had a meal outside of that room during our time in the orphanage.


7. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 3:20 PM EDT, August 23, 2006

School was no longer the only place where we had lessons. As soon as we were in that room each weekday, and for most of the day on the weekends, we were being shown how to do things as girls do them, specifically by the four women mentioned here already.

Things changed again in late August of that year when four new female staff were hired specifically to watch over the group in that room.

In the three months and a bit that had passed since we were first kept in the room, five new boys had joined us. We were now twelve in number. Having twelve small and slender children present at one time didn't bother the women at all, they knew how to keep us in line.

Each new addition to the group quickly learned to fear those rods just as much as those of us who had been there since the beginning.

The girl lessons continued day in and day out, occupying the majority of our 'free' time each day.

I know I didn't like the lessons, I sure as hell didn't want to be a girl, but I didn't want to get hit by those rods if I could avoid it, either. Avoiding the rods just wasn't that easy, though. Any minor errors in our actions or behaviour brought a swift strike from one or more of them.

It was at this point in time that Mrs. O'Shaughnessy 'hired' three of her nephews to take the whole orphanage to school and back each day. Those of us who were being kept in that large back room on the third floor had a bus all to ourselves, separate from the other boys.

The nephews also helped out in the evenings, keeping an eye on the kids doing their usual activities in various rooms in the building.

As I said earlier, when outside the orphanage during the early years in that room, we still looked like young boys, we just acted a bit oddly. I suppose it could be blamed on all those girl lessons over the summer holidays, but we no longer acted like ordinary young boys.


8. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 1:45 PM EST, Saturday February 17, 2007

The other side of having those three nephews around the place didn't become clear to us until late that winter.

I have no idea what happened, but most of the women 'guarding' us were called away today to handle a ruckus somewhere in the building.

While they went off to deal with it, Catherine stayed to watch us, along with those three nephews of Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.

I suppose Johnny thought that because the other women weren't present, we could just do what we wanted. Boy, was he ever wrong.

We started making our own ruckus. Catherine was afraid of some of us, I think, and she just stood there doing nothing. That just had us acting even wilder for a few minutes, then the three nephews waded in, knocking us all around the room using their fists and feet.

They went through the whole lot of us in just a minute or two. Five of us ended up with broken bones, three with cracked ribs, and nine out of the twelve had black eyes and/or bruised jaws. We were a sorry looking bunch at that point, every one us of crying floods of tears.

The three men just stood there for a moment, then one of them said, "That will teach ye lot to mind yer manners all the time!"

That was the last time we ever acted as a group that I can remember. From that point onward, we were deathly scared of those three men.

Those of us who had been injured enough to require medical attention were taken to various hospitals in the area, treated and released. It wasn't even difficult for the adult in each case to explain away what had happened, i.e., "kid runs around, slips, slams arm against stone wall".


9. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:45 PM EDT, Thursday June 7, 2007

The school year will be ending in a week or so, then we'll be stuck in that damn room for the whole summer again!

The orphanage gives us just enough food to survive. If it weren't for the food at St. Agnes school, us orphanage kids would be skin and bones.

That doesn't help us much, though. Even with the food from school, we're not growing much from what we can see. The clothes they started forcing us to wear a year ago now still fit for the most part. On a few kids in here, the dresses are becoming too big for them.

We get weighed by Beth in a side room on the third floor every Saturday morning, one at a time. I'm not doing too badly, I suppose, I've actually gained two inches and seven pounds in the last year, but Johnny, Pete and Sam, one of the new boys, have all lost a lot of weight.

When one of those boys takes his dress off at night to slip into the nighties they require us to wear, we can all too clearly see their ribs.


10. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:00 PM EDT, Wednesday September 4, 2007

It seems that Mrs. O'Shaughnessy has been communicating with someone in the school board. We were told this morning that we would be occupying what used to be an unused room near the back of the St. Agnes school as our own little private classroom.

Damn that bitch! First she splits us up from the other boys in the orphanage, now we're being split up at school, too!

When we were told this by Beth who stood smirking in front of the other women, I flipped out, ran forward and punched Beth in the breast.

Beth staggered back, screaming in pain, then I found myself literally hauled off my feet by the biggest of the four new women, Stephanie. She held me there for a moment, glaring at me as she waited to see if Beth was okay, then threw me over her knee and whupped my butt.

She used one of those damnable rods on my butt. I'm not sure how many times she hit me, but it hurt like hell to sit down for several days.


11. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 7:50 AM EDT, March 20, 2008

We're getting a brief break from school thanks to tomorrow being Good Friday. By this point, feminine actions and mannerisms were pretty much automatic to most of us in the back room on the third floor, with the exception of the new arrivals as they learned the ropes.

When we returned to the room today, we found that ten more cots had been added, bringing the total up to thirty now. That wasn't the only change, a second table just like the first one had been brought in, with enough chairs to go around it to make space for new folks.

Our numbers had been slowly increasing as the months went by, the former group of twelve had expanded now to nineteen.

The tiniest of errors or infractions still brought a swift response via one or more of those bloody rods. It was a rare day that no one was hit.

Two of the new arrivals, who apparently ended up in the orphanage two days ago, are fraternal twins. For the most part, they look almost the same, but if you look closely, it's soon obvious that Paul's nose is a bit thicker than Perry's and that Perry is slightly taller than Paul.

Both boys, though, fit well into the small and slender for one's age category just like the rest of us stuck in that horrid lifeless room. I say lifeless because we aren't allowed to be rambunctious at all. Nope, we're forced to be so prim and proper that we're duller than dishwater.


12. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 11:50 AM EDT, Saturday October 25, 2008

We had to attend a funeral today. Johnny Carver, one of the original 'girl' group along with myself, died last Wednesday afternoon when he slipped on a wet spot on the floor in the room a short while after Sally had mopped it. He hit the outside wall head first and broke his neck.

The staff in control of the room made sure that Johnny was wearing male clothing items that were a bit loose on him but looked appropriate. It seems our original clothing had been saved for emergency purposes, and Johnny was buried today wearing his shabby 'best' suit.

The atmosphere in the room has been rather quiet since Johnny died, almost as if his death took the last little bit of life from us all.


13. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 12:35 PM EDT, Sunday October 25, 2009

I can't believe it has been a year since we buried Johnny here. It honestly doesn't seem that long at all.

The staff in the orphanage that we deal with on a daily basis keep a tight rein on us, punishments are becoming more serious as we grow older.

I've had my butt whupped all too thoroughly a few times over the last year, but like anyone learning new things, I make mistakes sometimes.

I can't be sure, but I think one or more of those whuppings has resulted in a bruised or possibly cracked hip bone on my left side. There are times when I take a step forward or shift my weight and I'll get hit by a nasty spike of pain that sometimes has me actually swooning.

The orphanage staff just say I'm fine and ignore me when I ask to have it checked. None of us have phones, so we can't call out. Not only that, but at any time when we leave this room, say to be weighed or talked to privately, we're never allowed near any of the house phones.


14. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:20 PM EST, Monday December 21, 2009

Another one of those occasional 'emergencies' happened today, this time to me. I ended up in Carney Hospital for the night.

Remember that left hip of mine that I said needed to be looked at as soon as possible? Well, it ended up being broken yesterday evening.

We had finished our rather meagre dinner and the dishes had been removed when the staff person Sally came in to look around. I was whispering and giggling with Paul and Perry over in a corner of the room and Sally came rushing over to put a stop to it.

I stood up from the end of the cot that I had been using as a seat and faced Sally, then bluntly asked "What lit your panties on fire?"

She growled, grabbed my by my hair which had been growing since this whole weird program started and hit me hard in the gut with the rod in her hand. I doubled over and she yanked my head up and slammed me in the right side just under my rib cage this time.

I made a strong effort to twist in her grasp, then Paul or Perry, I'm not sure which one it was, twisted her arm holding the rod behind her back.

I finally managed to pull myself from her clutching left hand, but that set me off balance and I stumbled and slammed my left hip on a small part of the inner wall that actually entered into the room itself. Maybe it was a small alcove partition or something else, I have no idea.

What I do know is that my hip hit that bit of hard stone and everyone within about thirty feet of us heard the "SNAP!" as my hip broke.

I'm restricted to a wheelchair for at least ten weeks, possibly twelve, to allow the hip to fully heal after it had been fixed in the hospital.

Oh, damn, I can't get out of here unless someone carries me up and down stairs. I seriously doubt that the staff will do that for me.

I guess I'm going to be sitting in this room alone during the day once we're all back in school again. Talk about being bored out of my mind.

Gods, I just realized that going to the washroom with this darn hip is going to be a right PITA. One more thing I don't bloody need!


15. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 7:55 PM EDT, Sunday August 12, 2010

My hip eventually healed after that injury, but it will always be a way that I will know when rain will be coming soon.

Summer vacation is drawing to an end, we'll be back in school for another year in just a few more weeks.

Injuries and death seem to abound here, we lost another boy that was undergoing feminization here on Tuesday. No one is sure as to just how it happened, but the boy, Andrew Mulbert, ended up with a small internal abdominal wound that went septic and then gangrenous. He was being tough in the only way he could, I guess, and it cost the stupid boy his life. We buried him at St. Agnes church yesterday afternoon.


16. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:30 PM EDT, Monday October 25, 2010

It has now been two years since Johnny died. Those of us who knew him well miss him very much.

This place is beginning to haunt me. Two deaths and over a dozen major injuries since their filthy little feminization program started.

It's not just the rain that makes my hip ache, cold temperatures do as well and winter will be upon us again in a month or two.

How much more hurt and harm will happen in this hellhole before all of this crazy shit stops? Are we just pawns on some stupid game board?

If I could think of a way that could stop this that wouldn't set us all in the way of harm, I would have said something long ago. Those of us living in that third floor back room have been warned in extremely strong words of what will happen if we ever tell anyone what happens here.

I can't be absolutely sure, but the oldest kid here, thirteen year old Bobby Foster, almost looks like he is growing breasts. How odd!


17. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 2:15 PM EST, Monday December 27, 2010

It's hard to celebrate Christmas when one can't have a tree, exchange gifts or even be allowed to make things for one's friends.

I am truly beginning to hate being stuck in this ugly room at the back of an even uglier building, but I can't see a way to be free yet.

The weather has been cold off and on recently and my hip has been complaining via aching much more than usual.

School will start again in about a week, then it's back to the grind there, and back to all of the girl lessons here in the hellhole after school. We get drilled on feminine attitudes, gestures, mannerisms, etc, even more at times like this because we don't have to study for school.


18. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 8:15 PM, Thursday March 17, 2011

There was another accident that resulted in a serious injury today. No luck of the Irish here for Sam Kemper, he sure could have used it.

The orphanage has two cooks now, Catherine takes care of the main group and Tamara cooks our meals in the kitchen on this floor.

Tamara isn't quite the cook that Catherine is, but Catherine has more than twenty-five years of cooking experience behind her.

Tamara had opened a small bottle of cooking oil and one of the staff asked her something, she turned rapidly and some of the oil spilled on the floor. One of our new duties since the beginning of this year is that we have to help the cook to prepare meals every so often.

Today was Sam's turn to help. Well, Sam slipped on that bit of oil and shattered the three major bones in her left leg plus that ankle when she hit the wall with the leg being straight out in front of her. We found out later it took two operations and a bunch of rods and pins to fix it.

Sam will be in a full leg cast for at least eight to ten weeks, depending on how well the breaks heal. I have no idea where they got the equipment, but there is now a traction system set up over Sam's cot. That will surely be uncomfortable and perhaps painful for him.

I guess it is Sam's turn to find out just how boring it can be to be in here all by himself when everyone else is off at school.


19. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 12:05 PM EDT, Tuesday October 25, 2011

Three years have passed now, and each and every day, I and the other remaining members of the original group still miss Johnny very much.

Sam recovered from breaking his leg by early June, but you can still tell that he worries about it by how careful he is whenever he moves.

I'm surprised that I've been in the hellhole here for almost 5.5 years now, all but a few days of that time being imprisoned and feminized.

I've gained a few more inches, I'm now just a bit over 5'2" tall. I've also gained about ten pounds, yet I'm still extremely slender, no fat here.

It's hard to remember some parts of my life before I arrived here, and that leaves me thankful that I still do remember a lot of it.

I still can't think of a way to get out of this place that won't put myself and the rest of the kids in that room at extreme risk of harm.

I'll be twelve years old early in the new year, yet I doubt that I look that old. Not that it matters at this point, I suppose.


20. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 1:50 PM EDT, Monday July 9, 2012

Add another child from the group to the toll taken since the infernal little feminization program started, this time it was Bobby Foster.

We were out celebrating the 236th anniversary of US independence and someone managed to acquire bundles of actual firecrackers.

Bobby decided to twine three of the firecrackers together, then lit the fuses and forgot to keep an eye on them. Someone called to him, I believe they were trying to tell him to drop them and run, but Bobby didn't hear the person yelling and kept holding on to the darn things.

Well, we all found out they weren't ordinary firecrackers when they went 'bang', Bobby would have been burned in that case pretty badly. No, someone had screwed around with the crackers and mixed actual explosive in small amounts to the firecracker powder.

I know I threw up the hot dog I had managed to eat earlier when I saw the gaping hole in Bobby's chest as he toppled to the ground. I'm fairly sure that quite a few of the other people that actually saw what happened that day also lost whatever food they had recently eaten.

The closed casket funeral service ended two hours ago. We arrived back at the orphanage about an hour after the service ended.

I'm not sure, but I think Bobby may have somehow done it deliberately, I remember seeing an odd smile on his face just before he died.


21. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:45 PM, Thursday, October 25, 2012

It's been four years now since Johnny left us, and I know I miss him as much now as I did back then. I'm sure several others here do as well.

I managed to spend a short while by Andrew Mulbert's grave here on the second anniversary of his death back in August, but there is a very big difference in what I felt toward Andrew as to what I felt for Johnny who had been a good friend for over two years before he died.

I ended up with a broken wrist two weeks ago after the female staff member Stephanie whacked me with one of those blasted wooden rods.

The injury was a bad one, requiring four tiny pins and two small steel rods to realign different parts of my broken left wrist.

I know I'll be keeping a wary eye on that damn bitch Stephanie, that's twice now she's hurt me in one way or another!

With the hip injury from almost three years ago and now the wrist, I'll know for sure when it is about to be wet, cold or both at the same time.


22. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 8:20 AM EST, Sunday January 6, 2013

I had barely managed to get fully dressed before that staff bitch Stephanie grabbed me and dragged over to the third floor mini office.

Once we were in there, she forced me to lean over the desk, then flipped my dress up and that was when I received a very nasty shock!

I hadn't seen her pick it up, but I sure as hell felt that syringe jabbing into my ass and I let out a rather shrill yelp of protest.

The bitch just laughed, let me stand up with the dress falling decently again, then said, "That was your first hormone shot, brat. You'll be getting one just like that one every two weeks from now on until you leave this place, either at eighteen or in a coffin if something happens."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. If it were true... "Why the fuck would I need hormones, bitch? I'm growing just fine!" I yelled.

At that point, I had gained almost three more inches in height, now standing 5'5" and I had added a few more pounds, but apparently not enough. Even with a dress on, it was quite obvious that I was excruciatingly slender, quite likely too slender to be actually healthy.

"Girl hormones, brat. Now, for that insult, you need a little lesson in manners again, I think," she replied.

I didn't have any chance to dodge her, her arm clamped onto mine before I even realized that she was going to grab me. It didn't take much longer before I was spread over the edge of the desk again, at which point she turned my butt black and blue using that damn rod.


23. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 11:35 AM EDT, Thursday July 4, 2013

I didn't bother going to the celebrations for our independence today. No, that didn't matter to me at all; one year ago, Bobby Foster died.

I still can't be sure, but I suspect that Bobby used the firecrackers as a way to commit suicide. That last smile of his haunts me night and day.

I don't suppose the others in the feminization group were as close to Bobby as I was, no one else showed up here by his grave today.

I stayed there for about an hour, just relaxing in the warmth of the summer air. The celebrations could be heard in the distance.


24. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 12:15 PM EDT, Friday October 25, 2013

It's been five years now since Johnny died. I still miss him a lot, but my memories of him are slowly dimming as time goes by.

The bitch Stephanie was right! Every two weeks, early on a Sunday morning, I would receive another shot of the hormones.

There was one advantage that seemed to come with being given the shots, I received a bit more food now than I had before getting them.


25. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 1:45 PM EST, Saturday January 11, 2014

My birthday came and went a few days ago, not much chance of celebrating while locked in this room for what seems like forever.

I do get out of this room now and then to do things other than school, largely helping with cooking or cleaning duties when my turn arrives.

There are times that I wish that they hadn't prepared this space as well as they did, with toilets, showers and sinks for us to use.

My chest felt fairly tender this morning. It only took a quick look from a slight angle in a mirror for me to see that I have noticeable breasts.

That does seem fairly likely, I've noticed that my hips seem to be a fair bit fuller than they were. Arrgghhh! I don't want to be a damn girl!


26. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:10 PM EDT, Monday May 19, 2014

Dear sweet Lord, I've been locked into this shitty room every day for eight years now! Time has moved fast, but I haven't had much fun.

My chest has been growing steadily for the last several months, it's now rather obvious that I will have fairly large breasts that I never wanted.

My whole torso has changed quite a bit in the last sixteen months since they first gave me those nasty hormone shots. My breasts aren't too far from a B cup right now, still growing thanks to those shots, and my hips are so full I have a hard time getting my dresses to sit right.

Actually, to be blunt, all of my dresses are beginning to feel rather tight everywhere from my chest to my hips, painfully tight at times.

I've also noted that my mood seems to run in cycles where I feel rather bitchy for several days on a fairly regular basis. It took me a while to figure it out, my cycle seems to have synchronized with the other teen 'girls' here and when the bitch time starts, look out!

My skin is much softer now, and the tiny bits of acne that I had before the shots started are long gone.


27. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 3:30 PM EDT, Friday July 4, 2014

Two years now that Bobby has been gone, and I still see that hauntingly sad smile in my dreams.

I spent an hour or two just relaxing by his grave, sort of talking to him, describing things that have happened in the last two years.

Like last year, I didn't bother with the celebrations. Once I was ready to go, I left the cemetery and headed back to the orphanage.

To this day, I wish I had not been alone when I entered the third floor of the house. I might still be a virgin in one sense if that had been true.

I had no idea that one of Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's three nephews was doing some minor repair work up there. I soon found out, though, when I heard him exiting from the staff bathroom next to the office; that is when he saw me, and his face lit up with a big smile.

I have no idea what I was thinking at that point. The next thing I knew, he grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into that office.

Once the door had been closed, he punched me twice, once in the left facial cheek, the other in my gut, knocking the breath out of me.

That was all it took. Seconds later, he had flipped my dress up, dropped his pants, shoved my panties aside and rammed his cock into my ass.

As it entered my bottom, I squealed in shock, at which point he whacked me across the back of my head with his left hand.

"Shut up, little bitch, and you won't get hurt any more than you already are! Keep making noise, and I'll knock you out, then screw you!"

He'd already left some marks that would develop into rather large bruises before the day ended. I kept my mouth shut after that.

The bastard used me like a wild stallion would use a mare, he wasn't gentle about it at all. I know he came inside me twice, but I lost track at that point because I was too scared and shocked to focus. When he finished, he slapped me again, pulled his pants up and left the room.


28. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 5:57 PM EDT, Friday July 4, 2014

He left the office door open. I wasn't found until just before meal time that evening when one of the staff walked in and heard me mewling in the corner of the room behind the desk farthest from the door. It took Beth half an hour to learn that I had been raped by one of the men.

When Beth failed to show up for the meal, Sally, one of the newer staff people, walked into the office and found Beth curled up with me in the corner. Beth sighed, told her that she was dealing with a major issue and that both of us would come out to eat once we were ready.

That took another half hour, plus a promise from Beth that no adult males would be present while we ate.

I did manage to eat most of what I was given. I might have actually finished it if the fucking bastard hadn't walked into the room.

"Hi, girls, I gave the little bitch there a test drive earlier. I hope you left some of that food for me?" was what he said.

As soon as he started speaking, I expelled an almost breathless squeak and ran around the table, as far away from him as I could get.

Beth went postal on the bastard using one of those heavy wooden rods. By the time she finished, he was a veritable mess, she had broken his left arm, his right leg twice, thigh and shin, then three of his ribs and his jaw. That was when she told Sally to call Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.

Sally soon had the boss on the line and Beth did her best to be calm as she told Mrs. O'Shaughnessy what had happened.

When Mrs. O'Shaughnessy asked if he had defended himself from Beth, Beth told her he had until he was overwhelmed by his injuries.

"Honoria, your nephew Aloysius raped young Angus multiple times, leaving the child as a blubbering wreck in the office up here. It took me almost an entire hour to calm Angus down enough to eat, then he walked into the room here and Angus ran to hide behind the stove!"

Honoria was not happy, the men had been told to stay away from the boys up there, thus Aloysius was in breach of contract. "Beth, I'll send someone up there to take him to a hospital so he can be treated. You have my word he will no longer be working in the orphanage."

"That's as may be, but I still have a terrified child that I will have to calm down," Beth replied. "Oh, my, I'm going to have some lovely bruises."

"Do what you need to do, Beth, take care of young Angus. If that means that young Angus sleeps with you tonight, so be it," Honoria said.

"I'll do what I can, Honoria. I'll have Sally wait down by the front door to let in the paramedics when they arrive."

Beth sighed and shook her head. She hadn't been seriously injured, but she had several new bruises, including one on her left breast.

It took almost another hour to coax Angus out from behind the stove. The child was still trembling like a leaf in a high wind.


29. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 9:15 AM EDT, Saturday July 5, 2014

I ended up staying with Beth through the night. Beth apparently has medical training, she very quietly asked me if she could get samples of the bastard's semen. Once I understood what she was asking, I said yes; a few minutes later, she had the samples sealed in tiny packets.

I have no idea what time I fell asleep that night, I guess it was pretty late as I didn't wake up until 9:15 AM the next morning.

What I do know is that any time that Beth left the bed that night, I was whining for her to return, I just didn't want to be alone.

Beth led me out of the staff overnight room a short while later and I was soon given a bowl of cereal and a plate of breakfast food, eggs, a slice of ham, three slices of bacon, some home fries and two slices of toast. Coffee usually wasn't allowed, but they let me have some.

When I had finished eating, I relaxed on a couch in the open area of the third floor for a while.

I must have still been quite stressed out by what had happened, as Beth had to wake me up to tell me Mrs. O'Shaughnessy was here.

Beth led the way into the office, where we found Mrs. O'Shaughnessy sitting in the office chair behind the desk.

She saw us entering the room and used the rollers to move the chair out from behind the desk so we could talk face to face.

We were in the office for about an hour, maybe a bit longer. I was once again a shivering wreck after telling my tale of recent events.


30. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 5:20 PM EDT, Friday, July 11, 2014

It appears that Aloysius was a busy bastard, he's raped at least four of the other boy-girls here and three or four of the boys. Once people knew he would never be returning to work in the orphanage, the accounts of his activities quickly were passed on to Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.

The police had been involved from the point of Aloysius having been taken to the hospital last Friday after having raped me and then been beaten by a mere woman, one who happened to know how to use that wooden rod she carries quite well, for which I'm thankful.

The two detectives that showed up were an older male detective sergeant with his partner, a fairly new female detective on the squad. I couldn't handle being near the older male and thus ended up telling my story to the woman. It seems the other kids here felt the same way.

With so many accounts of his having committed rape against one of out every seven children in the orphanage, the police had no choice but to charge him with fifteen counts of statutory rape, as he had had his 'fun' with some of those kids on more than one occasion.

I suppose the boy-girls like myself were tempting to him, but that didn't stop him from going after ordinary boys as well. Sick fucker! Part of it may have been that the boys he did go after were like most of us boy-girls, small and slender, so they weren't too likely to win in a fight.

Once the bastard had been stabilized and the various accounts had been given, the charges were laid. That happened Wednesday morning. I wonder how he felt and appeared when the full list of charges was read out to him in the courtroom by the bailiff that morning.

I hope the bastard rots in jail. Good riddance!


31. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 7:45 PM EDT, Tuesday, July 15, 2014

I've gone through plenty of beatings in this place for not doing something right, but I knew the rules and knew what to expect. The trauma of the rape by that bastard was too much for me to handle on my own, so Mrs. O'Shaughnessy arranged for me to see a psychiatrist.

I saw the psychiatrist, a Dr. Elysa Swanston, for the first time last week and again after school finished today.

I didn't do a lot of talking last week, I guess what had happened was still too close for me to be able to express it sensibly.

I did manage to spend some time talking this week, especially about how scared, heck, no, terrified, I seem to be now after the rape.

Fear was not something I felt specifically toward one person or another before then, more toward the consequences of an action.

Dr. Swanston will continue to see me on a weekly basis, and I am to call her if I become emotionally overwhelmed at some point.

With everything that has happened to me recently, I completely forgot about having visited Bobby's grave already this year. I'll make time to visit his grave tomorrow afternoon before we return to the orphanage. We're trusted to keep our mouths shut when we're out there.

I suppose I could run off somewhere, but where would I go? I have no skills, only my schooling and I'm not even fifteen years old yet.


32. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 12:15 PM EDT, Saturday, October 25, 2014

Another year has gone by all too fast, it seems. Johnny died six years ago today, sometimes it seems like it was just yesterday.

I guess we're slowly forgetting him, as I seem to be the only one that showed up last year and this year on the anniversary of his death.

As much as Johnny was a large part of my life back then, things have changed quite a bit since he died, I'm not the same person anymore.

The court case against Aloysius has moved on from the grand jury with a full slate of indictments. He's looking at a lot of jail time.

The trial will start early in the new year. As I've said before, I hope the bastard rots in prison.

From what I've heard, I won't need to be present in the courtroom, the DNA evidence in my case is all that they needed to convict him on it. I feel sorry for the other kids he harmed while he was working here, as they will need to be there to give their evidence for the case.

Since each of them can clearly recall the dates and times of the rapes they suffered, it will just be adding more nails to his eventual coffin.


33. Suffolk County Superior Courthouse, 2:40 PM EST, Wednesday January 21, 2015

The trial of Aloysius Shelton, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy's nephew who raped me six months ago, ended a short while ago.

I was present, as I had been for as much of the proceedings as I could get away with, claiming it as social studies field trips. I guess my teachers at the St. Agnes school agreed, as I've been in the courtroom almost every day except for one Friday when I came down with a bug.

Those of us who were witnesses have just been told that the jury has returned with a set of verdicts.

I followed Beth and over a dozen other people into the courtroom, where we soon heard the verdicts.

"In the count of rape in the first degree, in an act committed on the child Angus Sean O'Reilly, we find the defendant guilty," said the foreman.

She continued to read off each verdict, one guilty decision after another. The process took several minutes to finish.

The judge asked the usual question of there being no coercion, etc., in the reaching of any of the verdicts given by the jury.

When he heard the expected reply, he nodded and stated to the court, "Sentencing will be on February 16th at 9:30 AM. Court is adjourned."


34. Suffolk County Superior Courthouse, 9:35 AM EST, Monday, February 16, 2015

I definitely wanted to be present to see the sentencing of the bastard today. I was at the courthouse at 8:15 AM, I didn't want to be late.

Once the formalities had been observed, the judge looked down into the courtroom, then frowned at the man behind the defence table.

"Aloysius Shelton, you were found guilty last month of fifteen counts of first degree rape, each of which can carry a sentence ranging from a minimum of ten years up to life imprisonment. As you were, at the time of each of the rapes, more than ten years older than each of the children whom you so viciously raped, those children being under sixteen years of age at the times of the respective offences, you are sentenced to life imprisonment on each count. I'm giving the maximum sentences allowed because you deliberately went out of your way to find children who would be little or no danger to you while you committed your acts and the potential harm to these children is incalculable."

"Bailiff, have the defendant taken from the courtroom, please. This court stands adjourned."

The sentencing was on the news that night. I happened to hear it through watching the TV while helping Tamara prepare dinner.

Yep, the staff have the infernal luck of having a TV over the fridge in the third floor kitchen so they can watch TV while working.


35. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 7:25 AM EDT, Thursday April 16, 2015

There's been another accident in the house, this one involving another of the 'girls', Peter Banks.

The silly fool was prancing around the room a little while ago when he misjudged a step, stumbled over the end of one of the cots, which now number forty, and had his thigh land across the low bench a short distance away from the darn cot. He broke his femur quite badly.

He ended up being taken to hospital, returning around 1:30 AM last night half-wired from the pain meds he'd been given.

The break was right across the bone. The doctors told him he should be able to get around on crutches, so he won't miss school at all.

Oh, it seems Aloysius had raped another one of the kids here, one who was not quite eleven at the time of the actual event. The incident had so badly traumatized the child that he had been in what can only be called a fugue state for nearly five years. That ended last night.

Billy Carnarvon, the child in question, has been up here for the last three years. He woke everyone up just after 4 AM screaming like a banshee. It took several of us half an hour to get him to settle down, then he uttered the first clear words anyone had heard from him in years.

"That... that...," he spluttered, "Nasty Aloysius man... oooooohhhh, he hurt me so much," he pointed to his rump. We all understood.

The staff could have entered at any point once they knew we were awake, but we had been sorting it out, so they left us alone. Once they realized that there was another victim of Aloysius's nasty desires, they called the police and the detectives arrived soon afterward.

It took the female detective over an hour to get the whole story out of Billy, who was crying and stammering left and right.

One more charge wouldn't make any difference to the bastard now, but Billy was able to give the time and date it happened to him.

Gods, what sort of asshole goes after a child that young? I'm amazed that I managed not to freak out while hearing Billy's story.


36. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:20 PM EDT, Tuesday, May 12, 2015

The bastard pled guilty to the additional charge of rape. The judge threw another life sentence at him, not that it makes a difference!

Billy has been seeing Dr. Swanston on a weekly basis. I'm still seeing her, although it's every two weeks now for me.

We are both glad to have her to talk to about what Aloysius did to us and to several others in the orphanage.

Dr. Swanston told me today that I will only need to see her once a month now unless an emergency situation arises.


37. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:15 PM EDT, Saturday, July 4, 2015

Bobby has been gone now for three years. I still can't be sure whether or not he actually meant to commit suicide.

Bobby was always a bit of a smart-aleck, getting into trouble over little things, but he was a lovable guy all the same.

I'll miss him. I knew Bobby for a bit over six years before he died, but I never got to know him like I did with Johnny all those years ago.

It's been a year since that bastard raped me. I don't like what happened, but it led to justice being served on him which is just fine by me.


38. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 12:35 PM EDT, Sunday October 25, 2015

It's been seven years now since Johnny died, and the third year in a row that I have been the only one to visit his grave.

There hasn't been much happening, just school, occasional visits with Dr. Swanston and sitting in this damn room the rest of the time.

Month by month, year by year, my memories of Johnny are growing dimmer. Time changes everything eventually.


39. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:35 PM EDT, Monday, July 4, 2016

Four years since Bobby died. I haven't attended a single independence day event since his death, it just seems meaningless now.

Even though I was never particularly close to Bobby while in this place, it's hard to forget him. He just grew on you, ya know what I mean?

I'll never forget his sense of humour, and some of the stunts he pulled on the other kids were absolutely hilarious. Well, stuff like he somehow managed to get his paws on some itching powder and he sprinkled it under Jack Farnham's sheets one night in late winter.

It was cold enough that night that poor Jack couldn't throw off his covers and hope to stay warm. He was scratching like crazy the next day.

I have nightmares occasionally arising from when I was raped. Not all that often now, thank God, but I had another one early this morning. There are times where it feels like it happened just now rather than two years ago, but I hear that's a fairly common reaction to such an event.

I still have the monthly sessions with Dr. Swanston to talk about whatever is bothering me at the time. I'm glad she was there for me.


40. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:40 PM EDT, Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Yet another year has passed since Johnny's death. My memories of him are rather vague now, almost like he wasn't really there.

Perhaps there is some truth to the saying that time will eventually heal all wounds, but if this is healing, I would rather forego it, thank you.

One of the staff members, Sally, was caught a few days ago stealing money from another staff person's purse.

She was fired by Mrs. O'Shaughnessy as soon as she knew about the incident and the other staff person wanted to press charges.

As much as it might have seemed the thing to do, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy knew that would make Sally unemployable in her line of work. What Mrs. O'Shaughnessy did do is add a note in her references for Sally that Sally needed to be watched around other people's belongings.


41. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 11:50 AM EST, Saturday March 11, 2017

Oh, gods, another boy up here managed to commit suicide Wednesday night by strangling himself with a strip torn from his bed sheets.

I was the unlucky one who found him that morning as my bed was next to his and the first thing I saw was his swollen purple tongue sticking out of his mouth as I went to get out of my own bed. My screams had everyone else jumping out of their beds to see what had happened.

It was a new boy, Cedric Almonds, he'd only been in the room with us for a week or two. He wouldn't let anyone get close to him.

The funeral service ended just now. I followed the other attendees in dropping a bit of earth on the coffin in the freshly dug grave.


42. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 4:15 PM EDT, Thursday, June 29, 2017

I found out this afternoon that someone had destroyed several gravestones last night, including those of Bobby Foster and Johnny Carver.

I still plan to visit the graveyard on the 4th of July to pay my respects to Bobby. It will be a bit odd, though, with no stone there to mark it.

I don't know why people would destroy something like that. What offence can a gravestone give that deserves it being shattered?


43. Cemetery by St. Agnes church, South Boston, 3:50 PM EDT, Tuesday, July 4, 2017

I visited Bobby's grave today, he's been gone from this world for four years.

Did he actually commit suicide that day, or was it just a rather idiotic accidental occurrence? I suppose I will never know for sure.

I still chuckle, well giggle now, I suppose, when I remember some of the stunts and tricks he pulled on some of us over the years.


44. O'Shaughnessy orphanage, somewhere in South Boston, 5:45 PM EST, Wednesday, December 27, 2017

The shit hit the proverbial fan last night all because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. What makes it worse is there were press people there.

See, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy somehow got the bright idea of featuring the orphanage on some cute little Christmas TV event. Well, everything was just fine until two of the press folks somehow ended up on the third floor without anyone realizing they had gone up there.

At the time, I was helping Tamara in the third floor kitchen area with preparations for dinner. We had just put some bread rolls into the oven when one of the two reporters, a rather pretty fortyish woman wearing a very nice pants suit, asked, "Isn't this an orphanage for boys?"

To put it mildly, I screamed, grabbed the slicing knife from Tamara who had been cutting carrots and celery for a salad, and turned around, pointing the knife at the two reporters, the woman and a male who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties.

I must have been very frightened, although nether of them was acting in any way threatening toward either Tamara or myself. What I do know is that my arm that was holding the knife was shaking like a leaf in a high wind and I couldn't seem to calm myself down at all.

After standing there for a minute or two, the woman asked the question again and Tamara replied that it was.

That prompted the next question from the woman, "Then why is she here? She's too young to be an employee, so what is the actual reason?"

Tamara had the sass to actually giggle at my being called a female, then softly declared, "The child is a resident of the orphanage."

I was still shaking rather badly. In fact, I think that my shaking was getting worse after hearing myself being considered to be a female.

When Tamara told them I was a resident of the orphanage, the female reporter started talking quietly into a microphone while the male, who was carrying one of those fairly small, compact video cameras, started to film us. That was when I blew my stack just like Mt. St. Helens.

"Who the fuck are you to call me a girl? Get this straight, you fucking idiots, I... AM... NOT... A... GIRL, damn you!" I exploded verbally.

The woman kept talking, the guy kept filming and I stood there waving that knife vaguely in their direction.

What I didn't know was that my yelling was heard by several other press people downstairs and soon the third floor was crowded with people, microphones being thrust at my face and cameras either recording things or taking pictures as I slowly lost my ability to reason.

At some point, I yelled out again that I wasn't a girl, which also was recorded and heard both there and in news stations all over the area.

Someone came just a bit too close to me, and my last bit of common sense vanished. I yelled out I am not a girl again, then I did something I had never thought I would do. I raised that knife, and with just the most fleeting of thoughts against it, pulled it across my throat.

I have no idea what happened after that, as I fell to the floor, blood spraying every which way, including on that lovely pants suit.


45. Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Boston, 11:55 AM EST, Thursday December 28, 2017

The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed with the left side of my throat all stitched up nice and neat, then covered by a bandage.

I guess it was a good thing that I was so terrified at the time that I tried to cut my throat as I missed the artery by a country mile.

Someone had arranged for the TV to be able to be turned on and a few minutes later, I was watching the noon news report.

A nurse walked in, informing me that lunch would be served fairly soon. When I asked where I was, she said Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center. Apparently, there had been enough medical emergencies happening the night before that it was the first one available.

To say that the shit had hit the fan would be a massive understatement. City, state and federal officials were swarming the orphanage. Several arrests had already been made, including Mrs. O'Shaughnessy and the entire shift that was working the evening before.

Warrants had been issued for the other staff members, and the police had apparently spoken with Dr. Swanston. The doctor had only casually known one or two of the staff and had no idea at all that things like undesired feminization of boys was occurring there. I guess that was made easier as visits with her were usually with us wearing baggy track suits or something similar, so the secret was never revealed.

Search warrants had been issued and an extensive series of files and notes were found detailing what was done to us 'girls'.

I had been lucky in one sense, I had had no interactions with hospitals since I started changing physically. Well, until now, I guess.

I also found out that a judge in the court system ordered that I undergo a psych assessment as soon as I was deemed to be physically fit.

Doctors orders from here were that I be kept for a few days to ensure that I was truly stable in the medical sense.


46. A community center near the former O'Shaughnessy orphanage building, 7:20 PM EST, Friday January 5, 2018

So now you know the whole story. You know what scares me the most? I turn eighteen tomorrow, thus I would be out of the orphanage even if everything hadn't gone tits up a week or so ago. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life, other than finish high school, I guess.

With all the important people that have been charged because of the illegal feminization that occurred there, mostly people who paved the way for Mrs. O'Shaughnessy to get things she wanted to continue the feminizing or people who kept the legal hounds off the trail.

It seems the legal mishandling went all the way up to two different Senators in the state here, they have also been charged. As both of the Senators were considered to be flight risks due to their wealth and access to government jets, they were jailed without any bail.

I have no idea where it will end. All I know is that I am finally out of that hellhole for once and for always.

The hardest part for me to deal with is the fact that the doctors in the hospital have determined that I am already sterile as a male. The medications I was given in the orphanage to develop my womanly figure also eliminated my testosterone completely.

I've been talking with Dr. Swanston again, who now knows everything. She recommended that I fully transition to being female. In my heart and mind, I will never be a girl, but if I do complete the transition, she says there is a chance I could function like any 'normal' woman.

I'm going to have to think about that for a while. I don't want to make a decision that important without examining it from every angle.


Epilogue. Main bedroom in a three bedroom house not far from St. Agnes church, South Boston, 2:35 PM, Friday October 26, 2018

I was in court today to catch the end of the trials of the staff and various political folks implicated in the whole orphanage brouhaha.

The two former senators ended up with light sentences. Well, light to me; to them, five years could mean they might die in prison.

The five city councillors were all sentenced to ten years, five without parole. One of them actually had the gumption to threaten the judge who was hearing that particular case and the judge threw the book at him, adding another ten years, this time consecutive, no parole.

That particular councillor is 56 years old and not in the best of health. He might not survive fifteen years in prison.

Mrs. O'Shaughnessy won't be seeing the light of day for quite a while, she ended up with 34 concurrent sentences of 20 years, ten before parole, for organizing the whole feminization process. Thirty-four counts because that was how many 'girls' were in that room up there.

Beth ended up being sentenced on a similar number of counts, the sentences being fifteen years concurrent, seven before parole. Vera and Jennie ended up with identical sentences as Beth. None of the three women showed any remorse at the sentencing hearings.

Tamara was sentenced to seven years, three without parole. Catherine ended up with the same sentence as Tamara. Jimmy and Tony received ten years each, five without parole. Other staff members were sentenced to five years in prison, two before parole.

In each case, even with the lesser sentences, each person was convicted on 34 counts, covering everyone 'living' in that upper room.

I finished high school in early June. I did fairly well, I could have gone to college but I decided to relax for a year first.

I'm still not sure what I want to do with my life, but I'm the one who decides what happens to me now, thank God!

Some of that indecision is related to whether I decide to transition or not. I may look like a woman now, I may walk like one, I may act like one, but as I've said before, in my heart and mind, I am NOT a woman. Maybe I'll just leave that situation as it is.

I'm going to go out now and take a walk by Johnny's grave. I didn't even realize it until recently, but I didn't go to his grave last year.

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