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Women Only
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Straight Female / 27
It Took A Long Time For Me To Flower
A little back story, when I was eleven my father r**ed me. He was drunk and he hit my mother with a frying pan before coming after me. He took it out on me and called me names after he r**ed me. He left the house and the next day we were informed that he had jumped off a downtown garage.
My mother's boss, she must have told him what my father did, moved us into a rent house he owned and he registered me in a Catholic Girl's school, a sort of Nun Preparatory. I went to a therapist but she kept saying 'your father hurt you'. No ma'am, he r**ed me. She also wanted me to tell her my feelings, what did I feel while he was r****g me. Did I enjoy it? No ma'am I wasn't thinking about anything and I wasn't enjoying it. Finally my mother's boss interfered and I was able to stop going to her.
I did well in school, but never made friends. I became a studious loner, alone in my world. I went onto college at Catholic University, I had a scholarship but never understood how I got it (later when I was older I realized that my mother's boss paid for it). I graduated and then I had to go out into the real world. I got a job through the placement office in a large company. I did what I was told, but didn't make friends.
One day all of the department had to go to this meeting. The HR department was giving orientations on the new benefits packages, mandatory attendance. Also attending was the Vice President who I had never met. When I walked in, there were people everywhere, some standing against the back of the room, but a chair was open next to the Vice President. He called me over and told me to join him. He asked my name and told the HR lady to start the power point.
Whenever he was at a point where he wanted to explain something, he used me as an example, Loren for example, and he would go on. When the meeting was over he asked me to stay and help the HR lady. I only new her from onboarding. He said that she needed an assistant and I looked like the perfect candidate, asking her if she didn't agree. She didn't have a spot open, and wasn't aware she needed an assistant but he told her that she did and the next thing I was transferred to report to her.
Once I was over in HR, he came by and asked how I was doing. He looked down at me and asked if I new the difference between introverts and extroverts, he explained that introverts look at their own shoes when talking and extroverts look at the other person's shoes. I didn't get it. He told her, in front of me, that I was like a flower waiting to bloom and as I was now in her garden he expected her to water when necessary, give me lots of sun and prune if needed. He expected a flower in full bloom.
I suppose that she never had a choice, she had to get involved with my social life and my after work life. Inviting me to plays, to trips to the museum. Inviting me to get together with her friends. She called me her 'ward' when she introduced me to her friends and forced me to get involved when they played cards and table games. She took me shopping for clothes, including underwear (how you feel in your underwear is how you feel in public). I never thought I would be wearing orange thongs and push up bras. Get those tits out there, be proud of them.
One day, a random day really, she asked me why I wasn't interested in anyone, boy or girl. That's when I told her about my father. She was quiet for a moment and told me that r**es happened, all over. Boyfriends r**ed girlfriends and unfortunately fathers r**ed daughters. But life didn't give us permission to stay in the shadows. One more hurdle to overcome, think hard, how does that girl in the wheelchair do it. She confessed to me, very quietly and very intimately, that she was the lover of the Vice President. She had been his lover since she first went to work there. That's why she didn't have a boyfriend.
What led to me coming out, flowering as the boss wanted, I don't really know. One day, in my orange thong and push up bra, I started getting involved and I got a lot more responsibility. I have a boyfriend, of sorts, I'm waiting for the Vice President to approve him. I know one thing, in this world of mine, I look for his approval. About just about everything, push up bras included.
My mother's boss, she must have told him what my father did, moved us into a rent house he owned and he registered me in a Catholic Girl's school, a sort of Nun Preparatory. I went to a therapist but she kept saying 'your father hurt you'. No ma'am, he r**ed me. She also wanted me to tell her my feelings, what did I feel while he was r****g me. Did I enjoy it? No ma'am I wasn't thinking about anything and I wasn't enjoying it. Finally my mother's boss interfered and I was able to stop going to her.
I did well in school, but never made friends. I became a studious loner, alone in my world. I went onto college at Catholic University, I had a scholarship but never understood how I got it (later when I was older I realized that my mother's boss paid for it). I graduated and then I had to go out into the real world. I got a job through the placement office in a large company. I did what I was told, but didn't make friends.
One day all of the department had to go to this meeting. The HR department was giving orientations on the new benefits packages, mandatory attendance. Also attending was the Vice President who I had never met. When I walked in, there were people everywhere, some standing against the back of the room, but a chair was open next to the Vice President. He called me over and told me to join him. He asked my name and told the HR lady to start the power point.
Whenever he was at a point where he wanted to explain something, he used me as an example, Loren for example, and he would go on. When the meeting was over he asked me to stay and help the HR lady. I only new her from onboarding. He said that she needed an assistant and I looked like the perfect candidate, asking her if she didn't agree. She didn't have a spot open, and wasn't aware she needed an assistant but he told her that she did and the next thing I was transferred to report to her.
Once I was over in HR, he came by and asked how I was doing. He looked down at me and asked if I new the difference between introverts and extroverts, he explained that introverts look at their own shoes when talking and extroverts look at the other person's shoes. I didn't get it. He told her, in front of me, that I was like a flower waiting to bloom and as I was now in her garden he expected her to water when necessary, give me lots of sun and prune if needed. He expected a flower in full bloom.
I suppose that she never had a choice, she had to get involved with my social life and my after work life. Inviting me to plays, to trips to the museum. Inviting me to get together with her friends. She called me her 'ward' when she introduced me to her friends and forced me to get involved when they played cards and table games. She took me shopping for clothes, including underwear (how you feel in your underwear is how you feel in public). I never thought I would be wearing orange thongs and push up bras. Get those tits out there, be proud of them.
One day, a random day really, she asked me why I wasn't interested in anyone, boy or girl. That's when I told her about my father. She was quiet for a moment and told me that r**es happened, all over. Boyfriends r**ed girlfriends and unfortunately fathers r**ed daughters. But life didn't give us permission to stay in the shadows. One more hurdle to overcome, think hard, how does that girl in the wheelchair do it. She confessed to me, very quietly and very intimately, that she was the lover of the Vice President. She had been his lover since she first went to work there. That's why she didn't have a boyfriend.
What led to me coming out, flowering as the boss wanted, I don't really know. One day, in my orange thong and push up bra, I started getting involved and I got a lot more responsibility. I have a boyfriend, of sorts, I'm waiting for the Vice President to approve him. I know one thing, in this world of mine, I look for his approval. About just about everything, push up bras included.
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