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: carl_holiday@att.net.
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.
“What?”
“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?”
“Lew.”
“Lou?”
“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?”
“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?”
“Sure.”
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, 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.”
“Bruce?”
“Yes?”
“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.”
“Fuck!”
“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.
“When?”
“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.
“Carlotta?”
“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?”
“Carlotta.”
“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?”
“Who?”
“Carlotta?”
“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.