I don't remember anything about school, friends or playing any game or sport.What I do remember is how my father used to beat me with his belt, steel ...od or shoes for smallest of mistakes. What's more shameful is that he continued to beat me even when I was sixteen years old.I was tall with broad-shoulders, although not a giant like him, but the fact that I was nearly grown-up or that Mother could see me standing there with my jeans and underwear pulled down to my ankles with my cock and balls. It was too late to chicken out now.She felt herself paralyzed with fear, unable to move. Leslie camebounding through the door, ready to greet Don, and then froze."Who..." she started to ask, then her mouth dropped open withsudden realization and shock. "What..." Her mouth moved tosay something, but the words were stuck, frozen by the surpriseof seeing Don as a girl. "You're Don," she said finally with anawful certainty. "Aren't you."Deanna nodded, a tiny almost imperceptible move. "Yes,". More

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