This chapter has memories of child abuse.
**********
“Put that biro down,” the teacher said. I was now 11 and starting at my new school in Ireland. It was a school run by the Christian Brothers and was very religious. I looked up at the teacher and looked confused. He must have said 6 times to put the biro down. I didn’t have a clue what he was speaking about. A boy sitting next to me whispered to put my biro down and then pointed at my pen. Then it hit me, a biro was a pen! The teacher called me up and was mad at me because I did not listen to him. I had to hold my hand out where he swatted it a few times with a cane. That hurt. He just said I was not in the USA anymore. Despite the fact that my hand was sore and stinging, I was mad. My friend told me to hold my hand against the cold metal on the desk. I was silent for the next few days and my mother asked me why I was quiet. She was worried about me as I was often quiet when something troubled me. I told my mother the story and said how was I to know what a biro was. Why did they not speak English here? When my dad heard this, he marched up to the teacher’s house that lived close to us. I do not know what was said, but that teacher or any other teacher never did slap my hand again while I was at school.
We still wore American clothes which were fashionable in the USA, but not Ireland. It was golf like trousers and very colourful. My mother of course bought enough of them to last a few years. This and my accent always made me feel like a foreigner. Classmates knew I was from the USA, and they thought my family was rich. We were Middle class and even though it was hard at the start, we were comfortable. I tried to fit in and I tried to be Irish. I even considered myself Irish after a while. However, others did not. I was an outsider. I was not one of them. I could see it was easier for my brothers that played Irish sports and did Irish things. I just never did like sports. I was happy at the same time. I loved school but hated the fact that I had to walk to school which was two miles and most of it I had this huge wall to look at. I loved the social life in Ireland. My parents would visit relatives and speak hours with them while we just sat and spoke to them when we were spoken to. My mum visited her parents every Sunday and I loved this. I loved hearing old stories from my grandfather and being spoilt. I felt special when I was at their house.
I did have one good friend. His name was Tom. While I was a skinny and small boy, he was taller and overweight. Everyone thought I was cute, small with a feminine face. This didn’t bother Tom or me. We were great friends. After school, we would walk in town and hang around his father’s shop and then talk about everything under the sun. He did not see me as an outsider.
One day, we were on our way home, smiling and laughing. We were just started in our last year at primary school. Tom said he was bored, so he would walk with me to the housing estate outside town. It was better than looking at that long wall. Just before Tom left me, this man stopped us and he started talking. He said that we made a nice pair. We looked confused and he asked Tom if I was his girlfriend. I felt humiliated and mad. My hair was long and had a pageboy style. My face was feminine and it seems like everyone liked my eyes. We told him that I was a boy and we were both 11. He started praising us and telling us how “pretty” we were. I wasn’t paying any attention to him until he said we would be good models. Then I started smiling as I thought models tried on the coolest clothes and became famous. Tom immediately said no. The man, whose name was Kevin said that we should meet him the next week. He also told us that we should not tell our parents, as it meant there would be too much paperwork and less money for us. Then he left.
Tom and I didn’t talk a lot about it. Tom just said that he didn’t believe the man’s name was Kevin, as he was from the Middle East and he must have been a Muslim. He also said that we would be famous, yet why did we not have to tell our parents? If we would become famous, then our parents would know
I met Kevin a few days later in the same area. We talked a bit and he said that he did not live in the town and he was a Muslim. He also mentioned that Muslim children did not model. I listened to a lot to him and I was just happy to have company on the long way home from school. I told him that Tom didn’t want to and everything else Tom said. Kevin just laughed and explained that Irish parents are very strict, that’s why he didn’t like asking them. He even said some parents would want the money that I would earn, He said I looked special. I was both boyish and girlish. I didn’t know what he meant by this. I looked like a boy and even now when I see old pictures, I know that I looked like a boy. Then he said my eyes were very special and I had a special smile. I told him that my mother said I can’t smile. He just laughed at that. When he left me, I thought he was not dangerous and seemed quite friendly.
Tom asked me once after that if I would meet him. I told Tom the truth, that he was not interested in him and only me. Then Tom told me that Americans are so stupid. Within a few minutes, we were arguing. This continued the next day at school. I told Tom that we would meet at the park and let our fists decide who would win. I did wait at the park and I was willing to fight Tom. I also knew he would murder me as he was bigger and stronger. How could I be a model with a smashed up face? However, I also had my honour. I waited 10 minutes and he didn’t show up, so I walked home. The next day I found out he came and thought I chickened off.
I met Kevin at the park a few days after; He had his camera with him. He said that today we would just take some pictures outside so I would get used to being photographed. We went to some hidden part of the park, where there were deer close by. He then asked me to pose with the clothes I had on. I did as he told me, which was basically hugging a tree and posing around it. Then he told me that he had some clothes he needed to try. They were white Adidas shorts and a fishnet tank top. I felt half-naked with these on, especially since he told me that I did not need briefs on. I think the most embarrassing was when I had to sit on the ground and spread my legs. I hoped that he could not look up my shorts.
After we were done taking the pictures, we sat down and he told me I was born to be a model. He asked me did I mind him seeing me change my clothes. I blushed and asked did he take pictures when I changed clothes. He did not answer that but said my body was perfect. I was skinny and my bum was bubbly and he loved my little boy’s thing. He loved that I was far away from puberty. He also liked that my nipples were big. He said that I nearly had a girl’s body. No one ever talked to me like this before. It was so personal and private. It felt so wrong and yet so normal. I just sat there and blushed. He then told me that sometimes models took nude pictures. I just looked at him and said I would never do that. He just smiled.
I didn’t tell my parents anything, except that I visited my friend Maurice. He lived on the other side of the town. I was so confused about what happened and wondered what he would do with the pictures and why did he talk so much about my body. I had a few days until I would meet him again. I quickly forgot about it as the neighbours were visiting. There were 3 girls and I secretly fancied the youngest, although she was only 6. I loved it when she came over and visited. I would offer to take care of her while my mum and her mum talked over a cup of coffee. Shortly after the first time I took pictures, I remember that the youngest girl Catherine was riding a tricycle. I could see her panties. I must have started thinking about how lovely and pretty they looked. Then I thought of her. She would be a great model. Maybe Kevin would like to take pictures of her one day. Luckily he never did.
I often met Kevin while walking home from school. He had a house caravan and it was empty besides a sofa that could be a bed and a TV and a fridge. In the end, a white sheet hung from the wall and the floor. He would pick me up in his car and we go to the caravan home in the middle of nowhere and then he would take pictures. I loved posing and I loved some of the clothes be bought, especially denim clothes. I had fun doing it and even got used to his compliments. Over the weeks, the clothes became less and less. It didn’t shock me when I just wore these cutoff denim shorts and went topless. He pinched my nipples because he wanted them to “wake up”. I thought the way I posed sometimes strange and when he joked he could see my privates if I wore shorts, I just blushed. This just made him smile as he said he loved when I blushed. It made the pictures so much better.
I asked him who looks at the photos, and he just said he had special friends that loved them. I thought it was strange. Why would people want to look at pictures of me?
A few months after I met Kevin, I was sitting at his caravan house. I was standing where he usually took pictures. He gave me a coke and then took out a bottle of tablets and gave me one of them. He gave me a tablet and told me to take it, all models do. I didn’t even think about it and swallowed it with some coke. Then he told me to take my clothes off. I looked at him and at first, I thought he was joking. He was not explained that I would have my briefs on, so there should be no problem. I felt a bit fuzzy in my head and wanted to giggle for some reason. I posed in my briefs and giggled when he kept saying that I was cute. I was too high even to care. I tried to remember the last times my parents praised me. When I came home I had a headache.
Soon after that, my neighbour asked if I would babysit her children. I didn’t understand why as I was 11 and the oldest girl was 10. I said ok and went over there on my first job. I was giving instructions and then I was together with 3 girls. It was quite fun and not all that much work. In the end, we were in one of their rooms just chatting. I was sitting on a chair and they were on the bed. I don’t remember what we were talking about. Their parents were due home soon. The youngest girl who was the 6-year-old and the one I had a crush on laughed and said I was looking at her panties. I choked not realising that I was staring at her panties. This made her laugh and she said she does not mind. My older brother always looks and done things. I wanted to vomit. My older brother was molesting them. My little girl whom I secretly fancied was being molested. After that day I did not speak with my older brother and I hated him. I never told anyone what I was told and he does not know. I was mad at weeks as I felt so sorry for the girls. How could anyone take advantage of them in this way?
The next time I saw Kevin, I was afraid. I was still thinking who seen the pictures. It was getting harder as I always had to come up with excuses where I was going. I walked into his caravan and he was very nice. He had a blackcurrant cake, which was my favourite. I looked around to see if there were any clothes in a bundle for me to try on. I did not see any and I was not feeling good about going to where he took photos. I smiled when he said we would be taking photos in another place. I smiled and was hoping it will be fun. We went in some woods next to a stream. He took out his camera, which was new and it looked a lot more advanced.
He told me he will just take pictures of what I was wearing, which was quite disappointing as my clothes were boring. He took a few and then told me to slowly take my clothes off. I was confused and asked did he want me just in underwear outside. He shook his head and said wanted me naked. I started shaking and could feel tears coming down my cheeks. I told him no, I begged him; I simply did not want to do it. He gave me a can of coke and one of those tablets and I just held it in my hand. He told me it was me that decided. If I did not want to, he would drive me home. He would tell my parents why I was crying by showing them the pictures. He whispered he would even show the ones of me in underwear. He shrugged his shoulders and asked what my parents would say. I was by now in tears and he suddenly got mad and ordered me to swallow the tablet. I slowly started stripping while hearing the clicking camera. I remember that slowly the tears vanished and I was like a giddy drunk girl. He was praising my body. This was a bit strange, as he was a man.
I had a headache when I came home. I did not say a word to anyone, I just thought about being naked and on photos. That was not modelling. I had a headache and promised I would never see him again. I cried with a pillow over my head.
Of course, he met me on the way home from school one day and told me he would pick me up on Saturday. The braveness I had suddenly disappeared and I just nodded. A few days later he picked me up. I was silent. He gave me a coke and tablet in the car. I was giddy in his caravan; I was like a giddy girl. We ate some cake. He told me today we will be taking a break and watching a film. I smiled as I couldn’t really think. The video was on a VHS machine, and I never saw a video before. Besides that, it was a strange film. It was boys posing as I have done except at the end of the film, they were molested. I knew nothing about sex and despite the pill, I was in shock. Was it normal what I was doing? I did not know what to think. I could still hear what Kevin was saying, “Some boys like you look like girls. Men like this. You will make me rich. Men like whores like you” I never did answer. I did not even know what that word meant.
He wanted me to come the next day. This surprised me, and was a problem, as, on Sundays, I usually visited my grandparents with my mother. I could not say no to Kevin, and I forget what excuse I came up with.
Kevin picked me up and I sat in the car and didn’t say a word. I counted the electricity poles as we drove by and was thinking about that film. Is that what happens with my pictures? People sit around and see them? What did he mean by men like me? I opened my mouth and asked him if he had a tablet.
When stopped in the middle of nowhere, and he took his camera and a bag out. He told me to get naked and as the tablet was working by now, my mind was not so cluttered so I did as commanded. He took out a diaper and put it on me. I was in shock as it was a diaper, but besides that, I always had a dream about a girl in a diaper. So the next hour I was posing in a diaper and to be honest, despite it was embarrassing, I had lots of fun. Maybe it was because of the girl that was in the dreams. In the end, he took some nude pictures of me. I was starting not to care, he already took some, so what was a few more?
On the way home, he was talking about I was a cute money machine, and I would make him much richer. Then I got his speech about to keep everything a secret. Which surprised me, as for how did he make money? It must be the pictures. He must have sold pictures to others. I looked out the window and started to count electricity posts.
My mother believed in chores, and when we did not have school. My job was to vacuum the house every day. This also meant moving the small furniture so they would be vacuumed under. Sometimes she wanted me to do the dishes as well. Looking back I think it was a bit too much for an eleven-year-old. However, I liked it. I felt normal. It made me feel like any other boy and it helped me forget the strange pictures Kevin took of me. I hated when mum was not satisfied with the work I did, as that meant I had to do it all over again. This would affect me much later.
I had a double life. One where I was a naked boy in pictures or pictures of me in underwear and even diapers. These pictures continued and I was now getting addicted to the small tablets that he gave me. He even dressed me as a girl sometimes, as I posed in girl dresses or shorts and top. I liked these pictures for some reason as the clothes didn’t show my body and they were quite pretty. The problem was there was no one I could speak with except Kevin. I feared if my family knew, they would hate me and think I was some sort of slut. If I spoke with Tom, he would say he told me so. This made me sad most of the time and I only considered myself happy when I had a tablet. I even tried taking some aspirin tablets when I was at home.
When I was 12, I made a huge discovery in my life. I was at a revival evening at our local church and it was here I decided that I would be a priest. In a way, I knew I was being abused but was always in doubt as I never said no. I always said yes and let him do it. But that was my secret life. I wrote to all the religious orders as I could and at the end was interested in becoming a Christian brother that was teachers. It was an Irish organisation and I am sure that it helped boys. I told my parents that I was going to devote my life to God. My parents must have thought I was a saint.
A brother from the Christian brothers came and visited me. My parents were proud of me. I told him that I was ready to join now. He smiled and said that I needed patience. He did not realise that deep down I was using this as an escape from Kevin, and I really needed to leave home. I was told that I had to wait until I was 18.
Could my new religious mission save me from Kevin?
ns 15.158.61.7da2
