This story concerns adult and teenage gay males who may be involved in sexual situations. If it is illegal for you to read such stories, or if you do not like to read such stories, please leave now.

This story is copyright 2006 by the author who retains all rights.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This is my third submission to Nifty. My previous submissions can be found in the High School section under Kiel’s Story. Any comments or questions are welcome at:

A warm thank you goes out to all who write. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff, whether you like it or not. I try to answer all emails, even flames. (I’m a writer, I live for rejection.) Although sometimes it takes a little time to get back to you, I do try to answer. If I'm remiss in replying to yours, I apologize.

The Pastel Cowboy

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 17 – Zach, You’re a Wuss

“I’m thinking of throwing a surprise birthday party for David,” Paul said as he spooned some broccoli beef onto his plate.

They were at a touristy Chinese restaurant in the International District, probably because Bruce asked Paul to take them out and Paul always included Zach in all their excursions. Their waitress, a young Chinese-American, had a nametag that said she was Suzie Wong; and, when Bruce introduced her as an acquaintance, Zach started watching her looking for those hidden signs she wasn’t what she appeared to be.

He hadn’t met many of Bruce’s friends, but a few of those he’d met were always doing their damnedest to appear female; and, a couple of those he knew—he tried his best to ignore their camouflage and talk to them as if they were just another guy—were genuinely, down to the “I’m going to have the operation and they’re going to take off that icky thing,” trans-gendered, but a lot of them, like Bruce, weren’t and he didn’t know what he should feel about them. He thought they were simply succumbing to peer pressure, “If you want to join the club, honey, you’re going to have to wear a bra.”

That’s what he thought about “Suzie Wong” or whatever her name was. He’d seen the movie and knew “Suzie Wong” was just playing with the tourists’ memories. If she’d used any other name than “Suzie Wong,” he just might not have suspected her as a tranny wannabe.

Suzie’s accent drew Zach’s immediate attention because it sounded too Hollywood, too fake. She seemed to be more of a caricature of a young Chinese girl from some Forties and Fifties movie, as if she was adopted as a baby by a farm family from Iowa and the only Chinese she’d ever met were on TV and spoke with that generic “Oriental” accent. Then, after she’d served the almond fried rice, Zach saw her hips. They weren’t a girl’s hips. The buttocks hung from the waist incorrectly. The profile was wrong. It was the breasts, though, that showed Zach the truth. The left one was a little bit too much to the left, but still stuck out like a normal breast; and, they didn’t bounce right. The hands were definitely male.

“When’s his birthday?” Bruce asked as he picked at his fried rice as if looking for a fried maggot.

“Well, it’s during the week, but I plan on having it the third Saturday in October,” Paul said. “Which one of you picked this place?”

“That would be Bruce,” Zach said. “You know, that Sunday is my birthday.”

“That’s interesting,” Bruce said. He gave Zach a look that said he might expect another early morning visit from someone with a lot of muscles and sharp teeth who like to sneak his big dick up someone’s ass when they were sleeping.

“Are you and Jeremy doing anything?” Paul asked.

“I don’t think so,” Zach said as he watched Suzie walk by and noticed she, also, walked like a guy. “We’re not talking much anymore.”

“Oh?” Paul looked up from his almond chicken.

“Sara and I aren’t talking, so that has kind of thrown cold water on Jeremy and me.”

“He fucked her,” Bruce said with a mouthful of sweet and sour pork.


“You remember that day a couple weeks ago when I first came down and you drew those sketches. You know, the first day of school for us.”

“Oh, yeah, I was kind of wondering why you were there,” Paul said. He smiled, probably from the memory of Bruce’s dick up his ass.

“Well, when Uncle Bill sent me home early, I saw Zach here going wild with his dick in Sara’s cunt.”

“Young man, excuse me, but you could hold down the foul language,” a middle-aged woman at the next table said. Her hand was on Bruce’s forearm. “My daughter is only seven and much too young to be hearing such filth.”

“Sure thing, lady,” Bruce said. He turned back to Paul and said, “He was supposed to be doing that to me later that night.”

“You?” Paul asked. “I didn’t think you wanted to do that.”

“Zach used his tongue to persuade me I needed something firmer sticking up my ass. He can be quite persuasive with that tongue of his. My asshole tingled all morning.”

“Well, I never!” the woman at the other table huffed.

“No, ma’am, I don’t think you have,” Bruce said as he turned toward her table. “You don’t look like the kind of woman who would be into anilingus.”

“Mommy does cunnilingus,” the daughter said.

The woman’s jaw dropped as a questioning look spread across her face.

“Well, it’s true Mommy. Daddy said so. You’re spending too much time with that Jennifer girl. You’ve even slept at her house.”

“I had too much to drink and I couldn’t drive home.”

“I saw you kissing her and you had your hand down there in her private place. You were touching her like you said I shouldn’t touch myself. You said that was naughty.”

“We’re leaving, now!” The woman exclaimed. She got up and looked around her, but her daughter stayed put.

“You have to ask our waiter for our check,” the girl said.

“Melissa, the word is waitress,” the woman said. “A waiter is a man who serves tables.”

“But, Mommy, Suzie Wong, is not a girl,” Melissa said. She looked over at Zach and winked.

“Now, look what you’ve done,” Zach said as he looked at Bruce.

“I wonder how she figured it out,” Bruce said.

“Well, it might be because he looks more like a guy than a girl,” Paul said. “He’s got all the physical attributes of a guy, including the bulge at the apex of his legs, which wouldn’t show so much if she didn’t wear such a tight dress. Plus, his left tit has moved too far to the left. You’d think someone would say something.”

The woman had sat back down, but she wasn’t eating or doing much of anything else for that matter. It’s quite a shock finding out the mirrors in your closet are actually one way windows and everyone you know can see into your deepest secrets.

“Are you gentlemen doing okay?” Suzie asked as she suddenly appeared out of the crowd.

“Yes, we’re fine,” Paul said, “but Bruce wants to tell you something.”

“Why me?” Bruce asked.

“Because he’s your friend and you should’ve said something earlier,” Zach said.

Suzie glared at Zach, but he just smirked.

“Your lefty has moved,” Paul said.

Suzie glanced down at her chest. His eyes darted from Paul to Zach to Bruce. Then he was gone.

“Okay, enough of the distractions, I need your help in putting David’s birthday party together,” Paul said.

“What do we have to do?” Zach asked. He looked at his plate and wished he’d ordered a hamburger. There was definitely too much of something in that food that was not welcome in his stomach; or, maybe the “authentic” advertised on the window meant it was just like the Chinese food they bought at the takeout in their neighborhood grocery store, it certainly had a familiar tang.

“Here’s a list of people who need to be called and invited to the party,” Paul said as he handed Bruce a few sheets of paper stapled together.

“Oh, no, not me, he’s Zach’s uncle,” Bruce said. He pushed the papers in Zach’s face.

“Fine, you’re not invited,” Paul said.

Zach looked at Paul picking up on the tone. Maybe Paul and Bruce weren’t getting along in bed; or, maybe the opposite was true, maybe Paul was falling for Bruce. He’d done it before.

“Okay, I’ll call half of them,” Bruce said.

“Will Dickie be there?” Zach asked.

“Who’s Dickie?” Bruce asked.

“No, the good son got himself thrown in prison,” Paul said.

“Who’s Dickie?”

“What’d he do?” Zach asked. “Wasn’t he in the Marines, or something?”

“Who’s Dickie?”

“Yeah, down at Camp Pendleton. He got drunk one night and went into a leather bar and tried to clean house. According to David, Dickie’s always been a little bit homophobic and after his father came out to him, well, the stupid guy decided there were too many gays in California. He didn’t have a chance, but he ended up killing the off-duty cop who was supposed to be the bouncer. Dickie is gone from our lives, forever, thank god.”

“Who’s Dickie?”

“My cousin, Sally’s brother, Uncle David’s son,” Zach said. He tried to remember Dickie, but he was older than Sally and Sally was only a vague memory. Dickie hung around with his oldest brother, Andy.

“So his name is Richard, but they call him Dickie?” Bruce asked. “This food isn’t as good as Dillon said, I’ll treat everyone at the Burger King around the corner.”

“You don’t have any money,” Zach said. “I’ll treat at the nearest steak house. No, his name is actually Dickie Algernon Brandon.”

“Algernon? He could’ve gone by “Al,” Bruce said.

“And, have everyone know it was really Algernon?” Paul asked. “By the way what is your middle name?”



“No, it’s Llewellyn,” Bruce said with a sigh. “So what’s yours?”

“Peter,” Paul said.

“No!” Zach exclaimed.

“Yeah, well, they couldn’t do it the other way around,” Paul said.

“Because of the folk singers?” Bruce asked.

“No, they came later,” Paul said. “Dillon? Can we have our check? Because of the candy company.”

“What candy company?” Bruce asked.

“Peter Paul Candy, the makers of Almond Joy and Mounds,” Paul said. “My dad didn’t want it to be Peter, either. He wanted Garfield, after his grandfather, Garfield Grover Griffin, but Mom persuaded him.”

“Women can be like that,” Bruce said.

“What do you know about women?” Zach asked.

“I have a mother, don’t I?”

“Oh, yeah, they are women, aren’t they?”

They agreed each would call half the names, but since Bruce was working at the bookstore, Zach ended up doing most of them. It was rather simple, anyway: call a stranger, tell them an acquaintance of theirs was throwing a surprise birthday party for his crazy lover on such and such day. If they said they might attend, Zach got their snail or email address and said he’d send all the details, including the RSVP card to send back.

He was down to the last ten on the Wednesday after their bad Chinese dinner when Bruce came in early from work. Zach was sitting at the dinette in his favorite boxers, which were mostly holes held together with tatters of red cotton. He was working on a “no” from a friend of David when he felt a finger rubbing along his neck.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” Zach said. “No, I’ll let him know … His nephew, actually … Yes, the faggot from Oklahoma … Yes, sir, well I hope you have a wonderful bigoted life.”

He hung up and sighed. Fifteen “no’s” in a row did not make one all that happy. The finger hit a spot, a red, swollen spot on his left shoulder where someone had bit him. It had become infected, but Zach, being Zach, figured it would go away or kill him, either of which was a valid option at this stage of his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was going bad?” Bruce asked.

“And, it’s of your concern because?” Zach asked. He felt himself being picked up and spun around to face his tormentor.

“Your ass is mine, buddy,” Bruce hissed. “I don’t want anything going wrong with you until I’m through with you.”

“And, that will be?” Zach began to ask, but Bruce’s palm slapped the remaining words back into his mouth. Zach shut his eyes against the assault and crumpled down to the floor in a sobbing mass of worthless flesh.

“Get up!” Bruce exclaimed. “Get you sorry ass up, we’re going to the clinic to have that looked at. Get up!”

Zach felt himself being dragged to his feet and toward the bedroom at the same time. When they got there he started to get a pair of jeans from the closet, but was interrupted by Bruce ripping his boxers off him.

“Those were my best pair,” Zach said as the rags were thrown toward the door.

“Turn around,” Bruce hissed.


“What can’t you hear me the first time? I said turn around.”

Zach saw the belt coming out of the loops and wondered if Bruce was going to fuck him afterwards as usually happened; or, if he’d remember they were going to the clinic. He tried not thinking about the situation, about Bruce’s aggression toward him. When he did take time to consider why this was happening, he always came up with the same conclusion. Bruce was simply taking his frustration with his parents out on the only person available.

When Bruce went to his weekly karate session, Zach was assured of at least two, sometimes three, days of relative calm, but the aggression slowly returned usually culminating in a whipping and a being fucked very hard on spit. Tonight Bruce would be going to karate, so Zach expected the worse when he bent over.

What he felt, though, was totally unexpected. A warm, moist tongue began licking his hole. Bruce had never done this, so Zach was somewhat taken aback by the sudden change in procedure. Were they going to fuck first and then he’d be whipped? The ministrations continued unabated as the tongue began to work its way into the hole tugging at the taut closure.

Zach looked down at his cock and saw it staring back at him, slightly bouncing to the throb of his heart. With the slightest tug, he’d come. He was that close right now.

The licking suddenly stopped and Zach felt a cloth being used to dry him. He watched his cock whither in anticipation of the beating to come. Then he heard something he never expected to hear. Bruce was weeping.

Zach straightened and turned to the boy he originally felt might turn into a good friend, but had become someone to be feared. Surprisingly, he felt no hatred toward Bruce. Their lives were affected by so much hate from complete strangers it seemed ludicrous to him to feel that emotion even though he knew, deep down in his heart, he should at the very least despise this boy for what had been going on since he fucked Sara.

Although Bruce wasn’t breaking down to sobs, as Bruce never showed any extreme emotions, he was obviously distraught over something. Zach knelt down and put an arm across the muscled shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You must hate me,” Bruce whispered. He leaned into Zach’s offered support, yet Zach could feel the muscles tense at their contact.

“Why the sudden change in the script?” Zach asked. As much as he did not want to submit to Bruce at these times, he was beginning to feel a weird sense of fulfillment when Bruce became so dominant.

“I went to my psychiatrist today,” Bruce said, “and, well, I started talking and my aggression toward you came up and, well, I practically admitted to her that I was whipping you with my belt and biting you on the shoulders when I fucked you at night while you were sleeping. I didn’t actually say it like that, but that’s a fairly accurate summary.”

“And, she said you were a naughty boy and shouldn’t do that.”

“How can you be so humorous about this?”

“Remember, I go to one of those psyche manipulators, too,” Zach said. He thought of Doctor Cunningham and tried to imagine her reaction to such a statement. Would she react with more than the usual quiet “uh, huh?”

“After yesterday, when you came home late after being at the library,” Bruce said. “I practically came in my pants when I was laying the belt on your bare ass. I could feel myself change inside and I didn’t like what I saw myself becoming. I don’t want to be a sadistic beast that gets its jollies abusing another person. She told me to force myself to do something nice instead, even if that act was something I would never do, like licking your ass. You know I’m not into that.”

“So, what do we do now?” Zach asked. He thought about early the next morning when he could expect an angry dick up his ass. Was that going to happen? Was Bruce going to bite his neck or shoulder when he came?

“Take you to the clinic to have that bite looked at,” Bruce said. “Will you let me dress you?”


The 24-hour clinic up on Boylston was fairly quiet compared to when they usually went in on Saturdays or weekday evenings. There were any kids whimpering or running around screaming with that high pitched, too loud, nerve tearing, voice of theirs. The receptionist silently handed Zach a clipboard that had a two-sided paper he was to use to describe his symptoms, locate the injury if necessary, and tell them how he was going to pay for the cure they were going to graciously offer. Most of the doctors there were nice old gentlemen and ladies who seemed past retirement age, but still had a need to provide their skills to those in need. Or, was it something else? Zach didn’t have a clue.

A nurse came to collect Zach. He turned to Bruce and said, “You want to come or are you to wrapped up in that magazine article?”

“I’ll go hold your hand,” Bruce said.

They followed the nurse into the examination room and Zach sat on the table. Bruce looked around for a moment before he found an extra stool in the corner. The nurse stuck a thermometer in Zach’s mouth.

Her nametag said her name was Wahoo Fremont, LPN. She was dark haired, had lavender eye shadow, silver mascara, a faint dark patch of whiskers on her upper lip that had been cleanly shaven and was barely noticeable, except to someone who was looking for that kind of stuff. Zach looked down and there wasn’t a breast. It was flat as a man’s.

“Take your shirt off,” Wahoo said in a voice that could’ve been a guy’s. “Says here you were bitten. My god! Who’s doing this to you?”

“I am,” Bruce said from the corner.

“Do you know this is assault?” Wahoo asked.

“Yes, I do,” Bruce said.

“Do you?” Wahoo asked. She stared at Zach.

“He does it at night when we’re asleep,” Zach said.

“Your temperature is elevated and this one is infected,” Wahoo said as he poked and prodded Zach’s shoulder. He flinched when she touched the same sensitive spot Bruce found.

“Yes, well, the doctor will need to see this,” Wahoo said. “I suggest you two get some duct tape.”

“Duct tape?” Zach asked.

“Put a piece of it over his mouth before going to bed. The doctor will be in shortly.”

“Duct tape?” Bruce asked.

“I think she, uh, she was a she wasn’t she?” Zach asked. He wasn’t too certain what the nurse was. For all he knew she was like Julie Andrews in Victor, Victoria. If she was a guy, she certainly had it altogether, except for the flat chest.

“No, she’s a he or is it the other way around.”

“Is she a member of your little club?”

“We don’t have a club. We just like to get together now and then.”

“I suppose Marjorie goes.”

“No, Carlotta. You’ve never met her. She’s a few years older than me. You know, Carlotta took Jerry to Gay Pride, and, I don’t know why, but he kind of liked Wahoo. I know she liked him.”

“What about me? Are you going to try and get me into your club?”

“We don’t have a club and, well, you’re too masculine. You’d be like Rosy and April. God! What a pair.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“No, it’s not nice. They have full beards, but they’re sincere so no one cares, not that it matters since we don’t have a club.”

There was a knock at the door and a quite elderly woman came in. She was wearing a white lab jacket over gray polyester slacks. Her mostly gray hair was pulled back and braided halfway down her back. She looked over both of them through gold trimmed, wire rim glasses. She shook her head slightly, and then went to Zach’s shoulder.

“Uh, huh,” she said as she poked and prodded the sore on Zach’s shoulder.

“I see you had a boil,” she said, touching the white spot on Zach’s tan shoulder.

“Yes, ma’am,” Zach said.

“Yes, well, this here,” she said as her fingered pressed against a rather tender spot, “isn’t a boil, is it?”

“No, ma’am,” Zach practically squeaked. It wasn’t all that sore until he came to the clinic.

“I take it, he’s the perp,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Zach said.

“Do you intend to press charges?” she asked.

“No, why would I do that?” Zach asked. He glanced over at Bruce who looked as if he was trying to become invisible.

“This is assault,” she said. “This isn’t some sexual gratification practice. This is simple assault and if you come in here again with an infected bite, I’m calling the police myself. You’re lucky it’s been a light day, or I’d do it now. No biting. I don’t care how much you love him, don’t bite him.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bruce said.

“I think I’d better open this and drain it,” she said as she walked over to the counter and started opening drawers and cupboard doors. She began to assemble the assault kit. “I won’t lie to you and say this is going to be uncomfortable. This is going to hurt like hell and you’re going to think nasty things about me, but be a good, strong boy and I’ll give you a sucker afterward.”

“I didn’t notice, what flavor did you get?” Bruce asked later that night as they lay in bed. He was lightly stroking Zach’s bare back in the dark.

“Cum,” Zach said. They’d given him a few pain pills and two of them were making him woozy. He wasn’t worried about tomorrow, though, as his first class was at ten and it was swimming, so he’d have to sit out at least tomorrow.

“They don’t have cum flavored suckers,” Bruce said as his hand slowly worked its way down toward Zach’s ass.

“Well, it certainly tasted like cum and I’ve tasted enough cum to know what cum tastes like.”


“What, what?”

“Are you okay?”

“No, but I think you want to fuck me,” Zach said. He was falling asleep and didn’t really care at that moment what happened. “If you’re going to do it, you’d better do it now because I’m not going to be here for very long.”

“Can you lie on your back?” Bruce asked.

“No, it hurts when I do that,” Zach said. He didn’t know what Bruce had in mind because Bruce didn’t like fucking when he could see his eyes. Bruce’s favorite sexual fantasy was fucking a complete stranger and the guy not being able to identify him afterward. Zach accepted that as an excuse for being woken in the middle of the night with a dick thrusting into his ass. Where the biting came from, Zach had no idea.

“Can you lie on your side?”

“Which one?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.”



“I’m very sleepy and that pain pill isn’t helping. I don’t know what you have in mind, but I’m going to close my eyes and see you in the morning. You can fuck me if you want. Just don’t bite, please.”

Bruce spooned up behind Zach and draped his arm down across his bare chest.

“I wasn’t going to do that,” Bruce whispered. “Let me hold you for awhile.”

They stayed together until much later when Zach had to get up to pee. Bruce was sprawled on the other side of the bed slowly humping the pillow he was holding against his lower abdomen. By the incoherent sound of Bruce’s mumbles and groaning, he knew the boy was asleep and having a very good dream.

When Zach returned from the bathroom Bruce was sitting on the side of the bed, his softening cock hanging limply over his balls.

“You okay?” Zach asked. He sat down next to Bruce with the bad shoulder on the other side. He draped his arm across Bruce’s muscular shoulders.

“I was dreaming of you and me,” Bruce said, flatly. “We were in my calculus class and you were fucking me. No one paid the least bit of attention to us. That is, until you came, then everyone clapped and cheered. I woke up and you were gone. I felt my erection pressed against something damp and knew I’d come onto the pillow. I used to use a pillow when I was thirteen, until my mother figured out where all the pillow cases were going. God, she beat me until I couldn’t come for days.”

“That’s funny, fucking a pillow,” Zach said. He thought of the sock he used since he was thirteen, especially when he was humping the mattress with it pulled down over his cock and balls.

“What’d you use, a cow?”

“No, but I had a buddy who fucked his horse all the time.”

“That’s sick.

“Not when she peed on him.”

“What’d you use?”

“Aren’t you tired? It’s only two. We don’t have to get up for another four hours.”

“What’s with the time check?” Bruce asked. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Do you want me to?” Zach asked. He thought of putting his cock into the boy next to him instead of Jeremy. What would it be like? Would it be the same? Similar? Different?

“Maybe when you get that cast of your arm, okay?”

“Okay. I can wait.”

“Can you? Three more days and you get to fuck Jeremy, but it’ll be two weeks before you fuck me. Who do you love more?”

“Are you asking me to choose?” Zach asked. He suddenly realized he couldn’t remember what Jeremy’s cock looked like. Had it been that long? He lay on his back and winced when a sharp pain shot through his shoulder. The doctor had been right. This had hurt like hell and it still hurt like hell.

“No, I was just wondering if you had any feelings toward me,” Bruce said. He lay down beside Zach, before he turned on his side. He leaned over and took Zach’s closest nipple in between lips and tongue and began to suckle. He reached over and lightly pinched the other.

Zach’s cock rose to the occasion, but Zach still wasn’t in the mood. Being forced to think of the younger teen boy who he said he loved totally destroyed the moment and he only wanted to embrace Bruce, but not come with him. He pushed himself back up to his pillow and shut his eyes to sleep.

Bruce, however, was not to be denied. He must’ve still felt some dominance over Zach because he simply turned and followed the object of his desire. He took Zach’s awakened love tool in his mouth and began to slowly stroke it with a thumb and two fingers.

Zach rolled his hips to allow Bruce easier access and tried to empty his mind of distracting thoughts. Only the pain in his shoulder fought with the feelings coming out of his crotch as Bruce’s tongue began to focus its attention on the head of his cock. Bruce wanted a mouthful of come right now. He was not interested in giving Zach a pleasurable experience. This was not about giving pleasure. It was, if someone had asked him, for penance.

Zach allowed the hurried approach and totally focused his attention on what was occurring on his hard cock. The pain killer was weakening and nerves throughout his body were awakening to the awareness someone was stimulating the sensitive skin of their erect penis. Deep in his brain, neurons were priming themselves in anticipation of shooting baby makers into the possibility of recreation.

Zach shut his eyes and fell into the relaxed state of one who was going to come without exertion. All he had to do was focus on the coming orgasm. He felt Bruce grab in balls and squeeze. The pain grabbed his attention, but did little to stop the inevitable.

As increasing pressure was applied to his balls, Zach’s mind exploded as tiny muscles along his sperm ducts drove anxious potentialities toward an unexpected end. His last conscious thought was why he was experiencing so much pain when he’d taken pills to stop that very thing.

“Good morning, lover,” the voice from the cell said.

“Huh?” Zach mumbled. He looked at the clock. It wasn’t even five o’clock. “Who is this?”

“Who do you think?”

“Oh, well, thank you anyway,” Zach said and pushed the END button. Who in hell was stupid enough to call him so early in the morning? The phone chirped, again. He thought about turning the silly thing off, but answered it anyway. “Yes?”

“Did you hang up on me?” the same voice asked.

“Me, who?”

“Damn, Zach, what’s with you?”

“What do you want?” Zach asked. He recognized the whine almost as soon as it pierced a hole in his ear.

“I’m off restriction. We can get together, again.”

“Look, Jeremy, I’m not feeling well right now; and, well, oh shit, I might as well tell you, your sister will get around to telling you anyhow.”

“You screwed her. She told me.”

“You sound like you don’t care.”

“I care, okay? I, also, care that you’re sleeping with Bruce because I know you’re having sex with him and not having sex with me.”


“I suppose that’s what he’s doing to you, too. You like being fucked too much to pass up such a good opportunity.”

“Are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad,” Jeremy said, but the voice said the opposite was closer to the truth. “But I miss you. When can you come out?”

“I might get my cast off in a couple weeks,” Zach said. Why did he have to go there? Why was he the one who had to do the traveling? “You could come here, you know?”

“How am I going to get there?”

“Use the bicycle your grandfather gave you.”

“How do you know he gave me a bicycle?”

“Oh my god! Bud actually bought you a bicycle?”

“What do you know about this? I thought Sara told him? Was it you?”

“Yes,” Zach said. He listened to the silence and as it stretched out he almost thought the call had been dropped.


“Today, I’ll be home at three.”

“Can we, you know?”

“Yeah, we can talk privately. Bruce doesn’t get home until after seven on Thursdays.”

“I was hoping to do something more than just talk.”

“You might not be in the mood,” Zach said. “But, after you undress me and if you don’t hit me too hard, maybe I’ll be in the mood, too.”

“I love you, Zach.”

“Yeah, I love me, too.”

Zach pressed the END button and held it until the phone went into its shutdown sequence.

“Was that who I think it was?” Bruce asked. He was still spooned behind Zach.

“Do me a favor and fuck me on spit,” Zach said. He rolled on his stomach. He jerked when a sharp pain shot out of his shoulder.

“No, not today,” Bruce said. He got up and straddled the other boy’s back with his growing erection pressed between the ass cheeks.

“It’s still early, you can pretend it’s still night.”

Bruce rolled off and lay on his back. Zach heard him sigh and then felt Bruce roll back and half straddle him with one leg, the hardened cock pressed into his thigh, but it didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Zach asked. Bruce pulled his body half over Zach pressing him into the bed. An arm stretched over and a hand grabbed his cast. His arm was pulled back behind him causing another sharp pain to explode out of the sore on his shoulder. He was being held down by Bruce and he felt his power to overcome the aggressor rapidly weakening. This was a new scenario on a familiar theme. He fully expected to be bitten at any moment. “You’re making my shoulder hurt.”

Nothing happened.

The pain was working its way up the scale toward excruciating. Tendons in his arm were beginning to complain about being pulled in the wrong direction. Bruce’s cock was throbbing against his thigh, but there were no thrusts. It just lay there biding its time.

“Bruce, please, stop,” Zach whispered. “You’re hurting me.”

“Are you hard?” a strange voice whispered in his ear. It sounded older. Was Carlotta holding him down?

“Yes,” Zach whispered. This surprised him. He didn’t expect to be hard, but he was.

“Do you want to come?”

Zach thought about this. Did he want to begin associating an orgasm with pain being inflicted by Bruce? It seemed so wrong, but was this Bruce? Was it possible René, Marjorie, and Carlotta were actual personalities? Was it possible Bruce had multiple personality disorder? Or, worse?

“Do you?”

“No, not like this.”

Bruce immediately rolled off Zach and slipped from the bed. He was out of the bedroom before Zach could respond.

Zach sat up and thought about following, but decided to wait because he was afraid running to Bruce now might be misinterpreted. All of this pain infliction at the moment of orgasm was becoming too much and he wanted it to end, but didn’t want to lose Bruce.

He stood up and walked out of the room. There was a light on in the kitchen. He didn’t want to, but Zach headed toward the light.

Bruce was sitting at the dinette with his head resting on his arms. Zach sat opposite and said, “Are you okay?”

“No, damn it! Can’t you see it?” The voice from the bedroom said.


“Well, the bright boy from Oklahoma figured it out,” Carlotta said.

“Then the biting, all the pain, that isn’t Bruce?” Zach asked. Bruce, with his head still resting on his arms, wasn’t looking at him, as Zach reached across the table and lightly touched the other boy’s head with his fingers. The black hair was soft and silky. He felt his cock stir.

“No, that isn’t Bruce, but he takes the blame. Bruce takes the blame for everything. He’s a scared little chicken shit afraid no one’s going to love him because he’s fucking nuts.”

“So what do I do?” Zach asked. He felt really uncomfortable talking to Bruce, but hearing a completely different voice coming back at him. “I was kind of getting to like him, but then I’m not the best guy to like, either.”

“No, Zach, you’re a wimp, a wuss, a pushover, a fucking bottom boy who’ll do anything to get a dick up his ass. Didn’t your father put any backbone in you?”

“Keep my father out of this,” Zach said, so quietly he barely heard the words.

“Your father, the mean bastard, the fucking homophobic asshole, who threw you out of the house and forced you to become queer, but you liked fucking Sara, didn’t you? You liked the feel of your dick in her cunt, didn’t you? That’s why you don’t fuck guys. You fuck girls, but guys fuck you. You know what?”

“What?” Zach whispered. His chest hurt. Carlotta was hitting below the belt and she was right.

“I like fucking you. You’re a good fuck.”

“I thought Bruce never had sex,” Zach said, but saw the answer before Carlotta opened her mouth.

“He didn’t. Not Bruce. No, Bruce was too chicken to have a dick close to him. Even when we were hustling up at Dicks when he fifteen, he was to scared to come out and have fun. Patty’s been fucked. So have I. In fact, when you finally getting around to seducing him, it’ll probably be me who takes your dick.”

“Who’s Patty?”

“Patty’s a slut. You don’t have to know anything about her. We don’t like her.”

“So, Carlotta, what do we do?” Zach asked. He surprised himself with the voice, it sounded almost like an adult. “I know Bruce can’t go home. I can’t keep getting bitten every time he, or is it you, fucks me in the middle of the night. Who’s beating me?”

“I thought you liked that,” Bruce’s voice said. “I was only trying to give you what you like.”

“Bruce, is that you?” Zach asked. Bruce was staring at him, that familiar sparkle in the eyes.

“Oh, shit! Who have you been talking to?”


“Oh, fuck! God damn it! I told her I was going to take care of it. I told her to keep out of this. Why does she have to butt in every time? She wouldn’t let me go help Jerry. It was her. Ask her, she’ll tell you.”

“Bruce, Bruce! Calm down,” Zach said. He was up and around to the other side of the table. He pulled Bruce into a tight embrace and felt the other boy’s heart racing. “Oh, god, Bruce, I had no idea. I thought it was all pretend.”

“No, it’s not pretend,” Bruce said from Zach’s shoulder. He pulled away, but hung his head to keep his face away from Zach’s gaze. “Do you like her?”



“You’re right, she’s older.”

“She wants to have the operation, or she’s only teasing me. I can’t tell anymore.” Tears were dribbling down his cheeks.

“I’ll do whatever you want,” Zach said. He pulled Bruce back and held him close.

He thought of Steven and wondered if he’d been a little more assertive maybe Steven would be alive. He was going to have to step up to the plate on this, ride the horse whether there was a saddle, or not. Bruce needed help and he was the only one available. He wondered if Paul knew. Then he wondered if Paul needed to know.

“Should I meet your psychiatrist, you know, to let her know we’re living together?” Zach asked.

“You’ve already met her,” Bruce said. “I go to Doctor Cunningham, too. She knows we’re living together. Carlotta told her.”

“You like Carlotta, don’t you?”

“She’s been nice to me,” Bruce whispered as if afraid to acknowledge the power the older woman held over him.

Zach knew he was going to have to talk to Doctor Cunningham soon. It was one thing to think the boy you’re living with is getting off whipping your ass, biting your neck and shoulders, fucking you senseless in the middle of the night, and quite another to realize it wasn’t him all along, but some alternate personality.

It was funny in a way knowing it was Carlotta fucking him. He was actually being fucked by a guy who wanted to be a woman. It was almost like being fucked by a woman with a dick.

Damn, I’m fucking nuts, Zach thought. I’m as bad as the rest of them.

Maybe being Jeremy’s boyfriend wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

But, was he a wuss, a wimp, a bottom boy willing to do anything to have a dick up his ass? He couldn’t remember if he’d ever fucked Jeremy. He must’ve done it. Was it always him on the bottom? They hadn’t been going together that long for him not to remember something like that, but he couldn’t remember having his dick in Jeremy’s ass.

Bruce was softly sobbing on his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go back to bed, we’ve still got a few hours to sleep,” Zach said. He looked at Bruce’s lean, muscular body and wondered if he wanted to fuck him. Would they tell him which one of them was being fucked? Was Carlotta going to whisper in his ear, ‘Give me your all, big boy?’ Or, was he as screwed up in the head as she said? Was he only able to fuck girls, or was Carlotta playing with his mind, as she seemed to do with Bruce?

Author’s Note: Wow! Honest, I didn’t see that coming down the ol’ imaginary path. Carlotta sounds fun, doesn’t she? I don’t know where this shit comes from, but I’m not complaining.

Once again, I have not progressed like I wanted to, but at least we’re closer to the birthday party. Maybe next time, we’ll actually get there.