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Mom Loves Not Her Daughters

Date: 7/7/2017, Categories: Shemales, Taboo, Author: BeeJay69, Rating: 100, Source: xHamster

soon as I closed the door, I overcame the inclination to cry like a baby. After all, I was f******n. I sat down on the stool and pulled my pants down to clean up the mess. That took several minutes of intensive work. I was wet everywhere. I quickly washed the mess out of the panties and started to hang them on the edge of the tub before deciding I didn't want them to be too obvious. Trying to squeeze them out as much as possible, I put them back in the hamper. Then I sat back down on the john and unbuckled the shoes and took them off my feet. God, I felt terrible. And I was scared to death. What was mom going to do? Oh, God. Worse. Was Amy going to tell every girl in her school about it? I'll bet, I thought. I'd never felt so totally down. Devastated. I had nowhere to go. I was trapped. Resigned, I checked to see that my pants were relatively dry and fastened. Then I picked up the shoes in one hand and opened the door. I would have liked to have just gone to my room to read a book or ... or anything else but what I knew I had to do. As I crossed my mother's room to the closet, where I replaced the shoes, I saw but didn't really look at my mother and s****r. My s****r was sitting sort of like a crab, leaning back on her hands, her legs spread and feet flat on the bed. My mother had her legs crossed and even her arms crossed over her chest, the frown deep in her face. "Dixon," she said before I could escape. I knew I was in for it. I just didn't know how bad it was going to ... be. I set my teeth knowing it was going to be as bad as it could be. For one thing, my s****r looked way too happy with the whole situation and she never looked this pleased unless I was in trouble and she wasn't. I turned and, with my head down till my chin touched my chest, stood in front of her obediently. I could only hope she'd take some pity on me. "I'm not so naive that I don't know what you were doing," she began. "Maybe I need to know why. Why, Dix?" she asked softly. I could only shrug in my early teen manner. I knew she hated the defensive, almost belligerent look I had on my face. In other circumstances, she certainly hadn't liked it. "This is important, Dix. You need to answer me. Why?" "I don't know, mom," I answered. It was almost as bad an answer as the shrug. "No. I think you know," she pressed. "I ... I don't know. I just ... you know." It was so hard for me to answer precisely. Things were too mixed up in my mind. "He's a fag, mom," Amy said with a smirk, enjoying my uncomfortable position. I could only frown at her. My mom looked at her as if to chastise her but then returned her attention to me. "Well? Is that true?" "Mom!" I moaned. "Of course not." "Without a father -- I guess it's possible. Maybe even probable. Are you gay, Dix?" I realized she was serious. I shook my head vigorously. "No, mom. Really." "I'll bet he is," Amy smirked. "That's enough, Amy," my mother said without taking her eyes off me. I could feel them on me even though I couldn't meet ...