I walk down the street and get to the apartment building. I walk upstairs to the room numbered 227. I hear moans coming from the other side. I lean right next to the door and wait. A few minutes later the moaning stop and a man in thug attire comes out.

He looks at me for a second and boasts, “Ya motha is a gud fuck, cracka boi.” I held my rising anger in my fist as I just nod. The thug swaggers away.

I gag as I walk into my apartment space. The smell of sex permeated throughout the rooms. A disgusting smell I loathed since I came to this wretched apartment. I walk into the master bedroom, where mom was laying limp and naked on the bed with a look of destitute and hopelessness. Juices flowed out of her vagina. I felt vomit come up my throat I quickly run to the bathroom where I puke my lunch into the toilet. I wipe the tears from my eyes and get a clothespin to plug my nose.

I come back to my mom and slowly pick her up and drag her into the shower. I then proceed to wash her off.

“Kitten?” Mom softly calls as she slowly regains consciousness.

“Yes mommy, I’m here,” I reply back pulling down my hood and mask. I grab a hold of her hand.

Tears flow down my mother’s face as she repeats, “sorry” as I bathed her and got her dress. I drag her to my room and tuck her in. She falls asleep swiftly and the ‘sorrys’ stop.

I turn my attention to the disgusting master bedroom. Taking off the sheets and putting on extras I prepared for just this occasion. I pack my work attire in my backpack. Working at a ‘maid café’ and living in a dump like this will do that to a person. I write a note telling mom where I’m going to be and I go to work.

“Mr. Clark!” Yells a woman.

Wake and stand straight up, “YES!?” I yell back, startled. My peers laugh at my reaction.

“Would you please tell me what is the determent?”

I quickly look at the board and it had a matrix. I went ahead of everyone just in case something like this happens today. “47” I answer.

The teacher narrows her eyes, “That’s correct, Mr. Clark. I see what you have been studying.” I rub the back of my neck and give her a broad grin. She barks, “Sit down.” All I can do is comply.

I take a deep breath as a not gets set on my desk. I look at the girl sitting beside me. I open the note to read, ‘You’re pretty smart. Will you help me study?’. I look over at the girl who is very pretty and seems to have a seductive air to her. I write on the back of the note, ‘fifty bucks’ then send it to her.

A minute later, she sends back the note, ‘I’ll pay you more than just money’.

I knew it. I quickly scribble, ‘Sorry, I’m not into prostitutes’ and send it back. I just stare at the girl with a supreme smirk. She glares at me with a look that could kill.

She scribbles angrily, ‘At least I’m not some sissy boy faggot’ I giggle a bit at that one.

‘Come on, you can do better than that’ I write in a calm eloquent cursive.

‘You even write like a girl. When are you going to come out, sissy boy?’

‘When after you stop sucking dick, so never.’

She scribbled an angry, ‘BITCH BOY!!!!’.

This is so amusing. The best entertainment I’ve had all day. All week maybe.

When I was just about to write another note. A hand steals the note. I look up and it was the hand of Mrs. Hag. Her name is Mrs. Howard, but she such a hag that I mentally call her that.

“I see that you and Ms. Garret like writing notes to each other. Would you like to read this to the class?” I grin as I watch Cindy Garret’s face drain of blood in horror.

“I would be plea-“

“No thank you!” Cindy interrupted.

“If you’re not willing to read it out loud. Then GET OUT!” She barks sending us into an attention as we stumble out the door.

“This is your fault.” Cindy sobs. The tears were flowing down from her frustration and stress from her school work. “I-if you j-just helped me or just said n-no. Then w-we wouldn’t b-be out here.”

I just smile at her, “Eh, I don’t care. I make all A’s anyway and I have no time to waste teaching a prostitue.” I take a deep breath, “Anyway, I bid adieu.”

“W-where are you g-going?”

“Far away from you.” I begin walking away.

Cindy yells, “RUN! Run like the scared little kitten you are, Kitten.” She pauses and says, “Maybe your crack whore of mother will love you more if you do.”

I stop and turn to her. My fury rises from that comment. I walk quickly up to her and backhand her. She falls to the floor as I angrily say through my teeth, “Don’t ever say that about my mom or I will pimp slap you again like the whore you are.”

I angrily walk off and stomp into the bathroom.

How dare that lowly whore to tell me my mom doesn’t love me? She loves me more than she will ever know love. I just wish she didn’t name me Kitten.

My name is Kitten Clark. I was given the name ‘Kitten’ because as my mom put it, “I’m as cute as a kitten.” That’s true. I am as cute as a Kitten. That’s why I can work in a maid café and why I have to hide my face any time I go to and from the apartments.

I walk up the body mirror in the bathroom and stare at my reflection. I’m five feet even with a graceful lithe body, not very common in the average male with longish copper hair and my face is kitten-like. Huge, deep blue eyes, small pointed nose, high cheekbones, and round chin. It’s not like I hate my body. It’s useful in getting jobs and adults tend to feel like they have to protect me.

I wish I was more masculine because I always have trouble with boys. When I was in elementary school, boys would fight over who I would play with. In middle school, guys would grab my ass or chest like I’m a girl. They knew they could get away with it too. In my first year of high school, I was confessed to by a jock in junior year. I told him I’m a boy. Now he does whatever he can to bully me.

“Hey, kitty, wearing panties under those cargo pants?”

Oh great, just my luck. I think about him and he comes into the bathroom.

I turn to him and give a fake smile, “Hey Jon. I’m not wearing panties.”

At least not right now.

He gives me this evil smirk, “I doubt that.” The smirk got wider. “How about we find out.”

The blood drains from my face as I gulp.

Shit shit shit, this is not good. I can just see thTarangirene. “Trangirl gets raped and murdered” I’m not a transgirl, but they’re going to think I am because of my appearance.

“Let’s not please, the bell is about to ring.”

He looks briefly at his watch. “We have plenty of time.” He steps and smacks his hand on the wall, stopping me from escaping. I feel the tears well up. “Besides, you’ll like it anyway.” He kisses me and forcefully puts his tongue into my mouth.

Ew ew ew ew ew EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWW. I’m not into men. Definitely not into men. Every time a guy kisses or makes out with me. It makes me hate men more than I already do.

His tongue moves around my tongue. I can’t breathe and my head was going blank as if the make-out session was draining all my energy. Then I heard the sweet and merciful bell and he stops making out with me.

I gasp for air “Damn. I thought we had more time.” He squeezes my ass and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, “I’ll see you next time, kitty.”

I walk into the stall and cry.


I hope you enjoy this one. I don't know if I'm continuing it or not, but I think it's pretty good

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