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Caution, This Chapter has thoughts from my father on what he was doing to me during my stay at home. This chapter has some graphic content as well as an insight into his mindset. I recovered a diary of my mothers in 1999 while going through the house for possessions. This pains me to no end here to place this on BC, however with support from those I trust and many emails I have received from friends I needed to post this chapter.

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I was happy to have a first born son, even though he was not my biological boy, I was overjoyed when my wife Francis and I (Murray) saw the bundle of joy. I always hoped to have a son where I could teach him to run a tractor, teach him to shoot, and go to the usual ball games. Francis doted over him. He was released to us on July 6 1964, he was an adopted child. His mother and father were of Irish decent. He had the most wonderful lock of red hair. He weighed 7 pounds 4 and 1/2 ounces. Being his Father, made me proud. His blue eyes were gems. I was as proud as a father.

Things changed for our little family when my wife told me that she was pregnant. I was completely overwhelmed with the thought of our family expanding. I was so hoping for a girl, I had my son. I guess I should mention here that our son we named Glenn Dale. The pregnancy was a good one and in August 1966 our son, Daniel was born. He weighed in at a nice 8 pounds 11 ounces. Our little family was complete, I now had two sons. I was ecstatic.

Things began to change when Glenn started to look thin and not acting quite right. I soon discovered he was secretly dressing in my wife's clothes. I found all this out very quickly in the summer of 1970. I was really pissed off and I grabbed him by the collar and dragged his sorry
ass to the barn. He was kicking and screaming, he was yelling and definitely crying. I stripped his clothes off. I was so steamed and seething mad that I wanted to beat the living hell out of him.

I strung him by the chain I had in the barn for hoisting engines, and let him hang there. He was crying and telling me that he was sorry. I ignored him and proceeded to whip him with my belt, and he wailed. I then reached for a bridle and proceeded to whip the shit out of him and yelling at him. "YOU FREAK!! YOU FAGGOT!! YOU QUEER!!"

I was relentless in the beating. Somewhere I knew I was going to beat the fucking little perversion out of him, even if it killed him. After I was through, I let him hang there, like I do with the slaughtered animals that I keep in the meat shack. I was not repulsed to see the blood dripping off his back. He was bruised and I didn't care. I was going to punish him, and punish him I did.

Time faded fast and the sun began to slip in the west, so I lowered the chains and yelled at him, "Hey little faggot, you have 10 minutes to crawl or walk to the house and eat, if not you don't eat and you will be stuck here," then I stormed off to the house.

I explained to my wife what went on and she nodded. She was still looking after our 4 year old son Daniel. After 10 minutes had passed, I went and locked the shed. I saw the lifeless body of Glenn and figured that he was in no shape to make it inside. Oh well, he can bloody well stay there for the night. I went and carried on with some last minute items on the tractor. At 5: A.M. I went to the barn and Glenn was awake and bloody, I told him, "Get your fucking ass in the house and get cleaned up! You have chores to do! We will have a long talk later."

I was seething still. My anger did not subside at all that day. After supper that evening, I hauled Glenn into the living room and told him to keep his mouth shut. My wife was there with Daniel. Glenn sat on the floor with his legs out to one side. He looked so pathetic. I proceeded to lay the law down to him.

I said, "From now on Sissy, you will follow these rules and they WILL be followed. Your mother and I have talked. And if this is how you want to be, then so be it! You will be a fucking sissy and a girl all the time. If you so much as step outside the rules you will be beaten and I do not fucking care how badly you get beat!"

All Glenn did was stare and he started crying and was shaking so badly. I really did not care at this point, so I hauled off and slapped him across the face, and he went flying against the wall. My wife took our son, Daniel to the bathroom and gave my 4 year old son a bath. I decided that Glenn no longer was my son. I hated him and he was going to be punished.

We sent him off to bed and told him to not make a peep or he would be punished. My wife just carried on with her evening and prepared Dan for bed. I love Dan with all my heart and hoped that he would not turn out like Glenn did, the little sissy and faggot.

The following days passed and Glenn followed direct orders and he barely made eye contact with me. My wife tried to console him but he openly rejected her. I guess he wanted nothing to do with either of us. That was fine with me. I would punish him and make him respect us. After all we were the ones that had to put up with his bullshit. He talked back to my wife one Friday afternoon before supper and it was off to the barn for another beating, and I beat him.

I really do not remember much of it, but I do know that I left him bleeding on the floor from his back and legs again and a few bruises on his head and bloodied nose. I locked the barn up and went in for supper. Francis never asked where Glenn was. The same routine went on for weeks and then months. My son Daniel grew up so quick.

I was so proud to have him as my son. He was my own and I was going to show him everything that a father would show his son.

Glenn became an inconvenience. He was useless. Sure he got good grades and did well in 4H and with his horse on the farm with the cattle, but over and above that he was useless. We dressed him in dresses and skirts and shoes fit for any floozy. He wanted to dress as a girl well he would get to 24/7. I doted on Dan always, gave him a gun at 8 and a bow and arrow at 10. Glenn became a liability for me, so I punished him all the time. I beat him daily for the pure hell of it. My wife never batted an eye at this as Dan became the center of her life, as well as mine.

I decided to step up the punishments a lot more with making sure that Glenn knew the rules and regulations of being a female. I began to sneak in and beat him while in bed. I have no remorse for what I did to him. I raped him repeatedly. He wanted to be a submissive fucking pansy and a sissy he was going to be one. I really did not give a fuck. I raped him till he bled and then I would beat him.

After each session as I began to reference them, I would entertain my wife's sexual prowess. Glenn was useless as a human being in my eyes and I did not want him. Oh sure, he cried and whined and yelled a lot, I ignored it all and gave no care to what he said or did, If he spoke back to me, he got beat. MY rules, he never had any say in this. I made him bleed repeatedly night after night and I even invited Dan to enjoy the pleasure of beating the little faggot and sissy.

We punished Glenn more and humiliated him by giving him nothing for his birthdays or for Christmas. Dan received all our love and attention. Dan was doted upon. I really didn't give a flying fuck what Glenn thought or did. He disappointed me greatly. He was not a man. He was and will always be a sissy and a faggot to me.

I told him time and time again, "You will never amount to anything, you're life is as useless, you will be a deadbeat, a prostitute is all that you are good for."

He looked the part, too with long red hair and a slight build. HE WAS NO SON OF MINE. He was an embarrassment. We were both a bit afraid he might spill his guts to the church pastor or his school friends, if he had any. One nice thing about country life is there is the "party Line". Everyone knew what went on at all times just by picking up the receiver and listening.

I knew he talked to Jenn a lot, but nothing was said to anybody else. My secret was safe. If it did get out, I would kill him and bury his body in the field where I bury the dead cows. Fuck I hate that sissy faggot.

He celebrated his 15th birthday on May 2, 1979 and we gave him a small cake and a few small gifts. I wish that we didn't have too. He has caused us a lot of trouble ever since we brought him into our house. What a complete waste of a human being. What a sissy. Always going to be a bit girlish I thought. I also thought what a fucking loser. I also wished he would die.

When dinner and cake was done He immediately left to the bath and cleaned up and went to bed. I proceeded to enter the room and abuse him, he just laid there and took it like the little bitch sissy he was. He cried of course and I made him bleed. I always walked out with a smile on my face.

The next morning I proceeded to go to his room and opened his door. I looked in and the window was open and he was not there. I smiled and thought good; maybe the sissy faggot ran away and will kill himself or is killed. I was happy. I had Dan and he was a real man or will be soon. My efforts would be now turned to him and make sure he had all the keys to life. I didn't care about Glenn, he is now a memory. A sad one at that and good riddance, hope he rots in HELL.

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This part took a lot for me to include here and I apologize if it will make some readers queasy. I had to shed some light on how demented my father was. He was a sick perverted bastard. Enough said. I thank those who wrote me emails to share a bit of a background on my "father". I did so reluctantly, however I boldly did so. Comments are welcomed and points to improve on. Thanks.