This story concerns 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 first submission to Nifty. Any comments or questions are welcome at:

A warm thank you goes out to all who’ve written. I appreciate knowing someone is actually reading this stuff.

Kiel's Story

by Carl Holiday

Chapter 9 – I Hardly Knew Him

“Doctor Randall, I want you to know I appreciate what you’re doing for me, but I don’t think this will help. I can’t remember. I can’t remember hardly anything.”

     “What do you remember?”

     “Pain. Lot’s of pain, but it was a familiar pain. I’d been raped before. I know what that feels like. It’s not a pain I like to remember, but it was that pain.”

     “Anything, else?”

     “Not being able to breathe. My brain exploding from lack of oxygen. My brain fighting for life, but confused by the pain. It was the pain, Doctor Randall. It was the pain. The pain woke me. The rope around my neck. It was a small rope. The rope burned my neck. It wasn’t hot, but it burned. I couldn’t breathe. The rope burned. The hard-on up my ass. The thrusts. The words. The voice.”

     “What words?”

     “I can’t remember.”

     “What voice?”

     “I can’t remember. Don’t you understand? I can’t remember the voice or the words, but I know someone was saying something. And, then, nothing.”

     “You’re lucky to be alive. Your sister saved you.”

     “She shouldn’t have had to suffer because of me.”

     “She’ll be okay, broken bones heal.”

     “But, she’s so little.”

     “I think we gone as far as we can today. I’ll have the nurse give you something to sleep. We made a little progress today, Geoff. We made a little progress. Maybe tomorrow you’ll remember the words.”

     “Or, the voice?”

     “Maybe the voice, but I think one will trigger the other. There are other avenues we can explore. Get some sleep.”

     I wasn’t in County. Doctor Randall had me transferred to a private psych hospital on the east side of Lake Washington. He wanted better control over me. He didn’t want County bugging him. He didn’t want me getting attacked. He knew about those people at County. I told him. He believed me.

     I was in a four bed pediatric ward. Peter was thirteen. He was a junkie. He did sex with older men to get money. He was cute, but lived in a world I never imagined existed. He talked about doing things that gave me pleasure, but he did simply for money. Peter was thirteen, but could have been twenty. Johnny was fifteen, almost a year younger than me. His parents thought he was unmanageable. His parents thought he was on drugs. His parents thought he was a homosexual. His parents couldn’t believe Johnny was their son because all their other children were not like him. Mostly, though, Johnny was suicidal. He had scars. He wasn’t a jumper, like me. Sam was too laid back. Sam was too cool. Sam was a month older than me, but was years behind in school. Sam didn’t care. Sam didn’t care about shit, no motivation to do anything. Sam wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to get out. Sam walked out in traffic. He didn’t care.

     Most of the time, I slept. Drugged, dreamless sleep. Nightmares kept at bay, mostly. I’d nod off at meals and the nightmares made me scream. Sam and Peter didn’t care. Johnny was scared. I felt sorry for Johnny. His shrink was taking his parent’s money and making Johnny stay in the hospital. Peter sucked Johnny’s dick at night to help him go to sleep. I was too drugged out to do anything except watch. I couldn’t even get hard.

     There was a rope around my neck when Mother came in to find Sally slammed against my dresser, her jaw and cheek bone broken. Mother could see I’d been raped, there was blood. She called police and ambulance, then Doctor Randall. That was the most important call. He got me out of County, early.

     No one knew who did it. Sally might have seen, but she couldn’t remember, maybe she was still half-asleep when the rapist hit her. All she remembered was seeing me lying face down on my bed with a rope around my neck, then waking up when the firemen arrived.

     The North Park police weren’t doing a lot. Homosexual rape was way down on their list of important crimes. Was I homosexual? Was it a spurned lover? Did I invite someone in and things went bad. It was known that near suffocation enhances sexual response, so maybe the rope around my neck was done for that purpose. They didn’t seem to care that I almost died and Sally had been brutally assaulted. Mother was talking to a lawyer.

     I was not allowed visitors, not even Mother. I couldn’t even talk on the telephone, Doctor Randall’s orders. I could get cards and notes, but no letters. “Have them send you a postcard saying everything is fine,” Doctor Randall told me. He wanted to keep me away from outside suggestions. He wanted to find out who did it. I don’t know if he was working with the police or Mother’s lawyer.

     Only problem was, I couldn’t remember anything except waking up and realizing I was being raped, again. Only this time a rope was around my neck and I couldn’t breathe. And, then, I might have died; or, I came damned close to dying.

     The only thing that kept me going was knowing someday I’d have Tim’s naked body next to mine. I didn’t even think of Kiel, maybe because I really, really deep down where horrible ideas gather out of dark, dusty holes, thought Kiel might have been the rapist. He said he’d kill me. He almost forced me to have sex with him. He was acting strange that day. He’d broken up with Tim because he thought I told, which I did, but he didn’t know, only assumed.

     I got get well cards from Mother, Sally, Tim, Monica, Niel at Gussie’s, Dawling (Tim found him and told him.), and Mark, who wrote, “I know this is a horrible time for me to say anything, but I’d really like to get to know you better. Love, Mark.” I threw his card away. The last thing I needed was to know a former tight end wanted to do it with me, when he didn’t have the foggiest idea what doing it meant.

     There was nothing from Kiel. I wrote Mother asking about Kiel, but she hadn’t responded. I wrote Tim, but he said he hadn’t seen or heard from Kiel since the Sunday we went to see Mark. When Tim brought me home to get ready for school, Kiel didn’t come out to get in Tim’s car. We knocked at the door, but no one was at home. When I sent another postcard to him, he replied he was spending a lot of time at my house, with my mother and Sally. When I sent another postcard specifically about Kiel, Tim said I should talk to my shrink.

     I didn’t want to think it was Kiel who did that to me. I couldn’t imagine a guy with a dick that beautiful being someone who could do what happened to me. I didn’t want it to be Kiel. I wanted it to be someone else, but I knew it had to be Kiel. I suppose that was why I was being kept here so I would come to realize my friend, the boy who I wanted to be my boyfriend, the boy I was jealous of because he knew Tim, the boy who let me get to know Tim, the one boy I’d ever seen who had a dream dick was some horrible animal who got his kicks raping other boys while strangling them.


“How are you doing today, Geoff?” Doctor Randall asked. He had an office at the hospital. It was quite large with a broad cherrywood desk, green vinyl couch, a couple comfortable side chairs, and a big bookcase. There was a window overlooking the inner court where difficult patients were allowed to get out into the sun. Good patients had a fenced lawn and rose garden at the back of the hospital.

     Doctor Randall was stretched out on his couch. The curtains were pulled tight. The only light came from a desk lamp. “Come here and lie down beside me. I think we need to explore a different avenue to help you discover the truth.”

     I sat in one of the side chairs staring at the outline of his cock in his gray slacks. I couldn’t tell if it was hard, or if his pants were pulled tight so I was able to see it. I didn’t know if he’d done this on purpose, or it was only my psycho imagination trying to make something of nothing. All of the trust I’d placed in him was on the couch where his hand was patting the place I was to sit. I felt tears in my eyes.

     “Come on, Geoff. Stand up and take off your robe. Come on, Geoff, we haven’t got all day. There are other patients here who need my help, too. That’s it stand up.”

     I couldn’t help myself as I stood and let the hospital robe fall from my shoulders. It lay in a crumpled pile on the floor at my feet. I stepped to the couch.

     “That’s it, Geoff. You’re doing good. Just a little more. Come on, turn around and unbutton your pajama bottoms. You’re a good boy, Geoff. Just remember you’re a good boy. Sit down.”

     I didn’t know why I was doing this. I couldn’t stop following his instructions. The light went out. I couldn’t see anything. I felt hands pulling my pajama top up over my head. Hands were touching me, pulling me down onto the couch. I didn’t want to do this, but I couldn’t stop. And, then he was on top of me. His hands around my neck. I couldn’t breathe.

     “You like this, don’t you Geoff? You like my hands around your neck. I’ve got a rope right here.”

     “Don’t Kiel! Stop it! Kiel I don’t want this. My god, Kiel! God, not that. I can’t breathe. Help me, Kiel. I didn’t tell. I didn’t. Oh, stop, Kiel. Please, god, Kiel, stop. If I say I told Tim, will you stop? Kiel? I told him, Kiel. Stop, oh, god, Kiel, stop.”

     And, then I wasn’t there. I was in my bed in the ward. I was lying on my side, my knees pulled up to my chest. I was crying. I was holding onto my pillow like it was a big teddy bear and I was crying into it. I saw Mother sitting in the chair beside my bed. She looked sad. It must be hard for a parent to see their child acting like a psycho.

     I stared at her. She looked up and smiled. I felt safe in that smile.

     I woke up later that night to the sound of Peter sucking Johnny’s dick. Sam was in my bed holding me. His head was behind mine, I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I thought he was asleep. I watched Johnny come and I felt Sam’s hand around my hard-on begin to move. I felt his erection between my thighs, thrusting slowly against bare skin. I went back to sleep.

     A few mornings later I returned to Doctor Randall’s office. He was sitting on the front of his desk. Mother was sitting in one of the side chairs. Tim was in the other. There was an empty chair between them.

     “Come on in, Geoff,” Doctor Randall said, getting to his feet. “Why don’t you sit between your mother and your friend. We’ve been talking about letting you go home. What do you think about that?”

     “Where’s Kiel?” I asked. I sat in the chair. Mother reached over and took my hand. Tim looked nervous. I didn’t know why he was there.

     “Kiel’s dead, honey,” Mother said.

     I looked at Tim, he nodded. He looked sad. I didn’t know if he was sad because I was crazy or because Kiel was dead. I hadn’t known him long enough to guess what he was thinking. I wanted to take him in my arms and hold him to me. I wanted my mother to do the same to me. I didn’t know which I wanted more. I felt a tear dribble down my cheek. Tim handed me a tissue.

     “Thank you,” I said.

     “Kiel killed himself sometime after leaving your house,” Tim said. His voice was empty of emotion as if he was reading from a newspaper. “He hung himself in his garage. According to the police he killed his parents and older sister then came over to your house. Got in somehow.”

     “I let him in,” I said. “He wanted to apologize for what happened on Sunday. He was on me as soon as we got to my bedroom. He strangled me, but not enough to kill me. I came to while he was raping me. The rope was around my neck. I struggled. The knot tightened and I lost consciousness. I didn’t wake up until I was here.

     “I’m sorry, Mother. I thought he loved me. I thought it was okay. I didn’t want Sally to get hurt. I’m sorry.”

     I started to blubber like a baby.

     “It’s okay, honey. I don’t think anyone knew Kiel was dangerous.”

     Tim came over and squatted down beside my chair. He held my hand. There were tears in his eyes.

     “Will you let me take care of you?” He asked. “I’ve been helping take care of Sally. She misses you. She wants you to come home.”

     I looked at Doctor Randall, he was smiling. I noticed he had quite a bulge in his jeans. Maybe I was going to be okay, if I could check out my shrink while being comforted by the boy who was going to become my new boyfriend. I felt good, but I was sorry Kiel was dead. I guess I didn’t know that much about him, after all, kind of like I didn’t know much about Stevie, either. I was going to get to know Tim. I was not going to let him die. I had to stop going to psychiatrists, especially good looking ones like Doctor Randall. And, I missed Sally, if it’s possible to miss a little brat of a sister.

     “Id like to go home. It’s been fun here, Doctor Randall. We’ve had a lot of laughs. Peter, Johnny, and Sam are great kids, a little crazy maybe, but fun to be with. I would like to go home, anyway. Is that okay, Doctor Randall?”

     “I think that is the best therapy I can give you,” Doctor Randall said, getting to his feet and stepping up to me. He took my other hand and held it, gently squeezing with half a smile and, was that a wink?

     Did my shrink wink at me? Was my shrink coming on to me? God, this place was making me crazy to think like that. What did he do to me after I passed out? Did I remember my ass being sore afterwards? How many days was I out? How long had I been there?

     “Can I go home now?” I asked, feeling myself being pulled into a hug. There was love in that hug, not the kind of love I feared, but a warm, soft, gentle love. A love I could handle.

The End

If you’re interested, this story will be continued in, “Tim and the Corsair,” which will be coming sooner than you might imagine. Geoff still has Mark’s threat hanging over him. Will Geoff finally jump off the bridge, or has Doctor Randall cured him? Will Tim be the lucky lover, or will he to succumb to Geoff’s unfortunate tendency to have his lovers die? And, what about Monica? Will she simply let Mark cross the street and become Geoff’s latest sexual interest, or will she fight for her man? Have we seen the last of Peter, Johnny, or Sam?

Who else at North Park High lives on the other side of the fence out of view of the “normal” students? Like any town in the world, North Park, Washington, has its share of boys who seem just like any other boy except for a wandering eye, a touch unlike anything you expected, and, well, an interest in other boys that you weren’t certain boys that age could have.

It comes early in life. Not with fanfare or applause. No one cheers when they realize the boy next door is a whole lot cuter than his sister. Some boys handle it fairly well; and some boys don’t. Teenage suicide is no laughing matter. I make light of it only because I’ve been at the edge and seen the emptiness of eternity. There is no mystery to why more boys try it than girls. In a society where being a man means having a woman, those who can’t be like that and don’t understand why they’re different run a great risk of opting out rather than seeking help for something so embarrassing that opting out sometimes seems the better choice. Please give support your local teen support center, crisis clinic, suicide prevention hotline, help is needed more than you may realize.