The Lottery

Part 2

I really don’t see why you want me to go, they are all your friends anyhow…

So? Besides it’s good for you, you can’t just sit around your place, and after all it is a party for me…

Yeah, one you conned him into throwing for you.

He owes me, I mean shit he never told me that house was for him, and that damn lawyer screwed me…

Come on Mark he didn’t, you got more than what you expected, you are just ticked cause if you’d have known it was for this Paul guy you would have gone over the lawyer’s head…

Why not? Shit I’ve known Paul for years, why shouldn’t he have paid full commission? Shit man, the guy won 80 million… he can afford it.

Yeah well he at least bought the house through you, isn’t that enough?

Well why shouldn’t he? And no, I mean what’s a few thousand between friends?

Well, you are getting the party, that seems to be more than a few thousand the way you been going at it.

So? I deserve it.

I know, you keep telling me.

Fuck Jock, what’s up your ass man? Ever since I started planning this party you been a real downer, that bitch of an ex giving you shit?

No more than normal, no, its just, well the school year is almost over…

So? Means you don’t have to put up with screaming kids and all that crap, you got time off, what’s the beef?

My contract isn’t being renewed that’s the beef, what am I going do for a job next year?

Shit you knew that was coming, after all that ex wife of yours is one damn cunt.

Yes, but still, I didn’t think that they would not renew, or at least they’d arrange something with another school…

Shit Jock, get real. They may talk about equal rights and all that bull, but you are queer, that and your ex is mouthing off.

So what am I supposed to do?

Party, what the fuck else is there? Let the damn lawyers sort it out, now come on… you gonna pick up those boxes for me at the deli and take them up to Paul’s place Friday or not?

Okay, I’ll take them up, but I won’t stay.

Suit yourself, if you do we’ll have fun, if not, hey we’ll hook up later then.

Is that all you ever think about?

What?

Hooking up? Shit Mark, sometimes I wonder why I bother…

Easy man, cause I found you in the bar and didn’t let you go home with that leather freak, that and I got you a good lawyer for a good price…

Yeah and you got to be my first, so that should square it.

Hey, I liked what you got, wouldn’t mind bit more though, so…

No, told you, that up the ass stuff, I just… it just doesn’t seem right, least not now…

Yeah yeah, but you really don’t know what you are missing man, its good, once you get used to it.

So you say, and I do appreciate you helping me out of that jam at the bar, but come on man, is that all there is?

That’s it, I mean come on, we only live once so who the fuck wants to just have one or two to remember? I want lots of people to remember me, it’s the only way to go.

Okay, I won’t debate it with you. What time am I supposed to pick this stuff up at?

Tomorrow at 9am. It’s a four hour drive, six the way you pussy foot it, make sure you pack the meat stuff in ice… don’t let it spoil, cause there is no way I can replace it in that damn burg that Paul’s moved to.

Okay, I guess I’ll see you there then? What time are you showing up?

Me? I don’t know, got to show a condo at 1 and then check a few things, so not till after dinner I suppose.

Well what am I supposed to do?

Paul will entertain you, he’s not bad even if he is almost 61.

Thanks, so the stuff, its all paid for?

Uh no, look just pay them and give the receipt to Paul, he’ll give it right back to you.

Fuck, no way Mark, Christ, you go pay for it and give him the bill, I am not going to.

I can’t, my cards are maxed, come on Jock, Paul will cut you a cheque right then..

Shit, I don’t know… how much is all this shit?

I don’t know, few hundred…

FEW HUNDRED? Jesus Christ… okay, but damn it, you better let this Paul guy know, don’t make me spring it on him when I get there.

Okay, shit you are such a damn wusse at times Jock, guess that comes from being pussy whipped, thank God I never fell for that.

Thanks, I feel a whole lot better now.

Well shit man, why’d you marry her? You really thought that by marrying her you could avoid being queer?

Okay, so I fucked up, I thought I loved her, least …shit never mind.

I gotta go, so we’re cool on tomorrow?

Yeah

Jock put the phone down and stared at the black object for a few minutes. It was typical Mark he thought as he sat in the rather worn armchair. The guy sometimes just had no concept of what it was like to be one of his friends. Then too, he wondered if he was really one of Mark’s friends? Maybe all he was was a piece of ass.

He had to admit though, Mark had saved him from a fate he really didn’t want to even think about, least not sober. God he really had been drunk that night and God only knows what would have happened if Mark hadn’t butted in and shooed that other guy off. For the life of him he really didn’t remember much about that whole episode, just bits and pieces of it. Jock knew he had been in a gay bar, knew that the guy sitting next to him kept playing with Jock’s crotch until Mark showed up. Other than that there really wasn’t much to remember.

Hell even going back to Mark’s condo was a blur. He could recall the way Mark got him onto the bed, he could recall how he felt the breeze on his naked body and the warm glow as Mark sucked him off but that was pretty well all he remembered. Still it was something that could have been worse. He did remember how Mark wanted him to turn over, but he also remembered how Mark took his ‘no’ without really pressing. Shit if he had maybe he wouldn’t be such a wusse now about it, maybe Mark was right but that hadn’t happened.

His eyes were a bit glazed as he stared at the room that was now his home. He felt the unease inside as he realized that after 14 years all he had to show for his life was a small tiny bachelor suite in a seedy run down apartment building out on the fringe of the city. After those years in college struggling to get ahead, to get his teaching degree and then the endless substitute jobs until he landed finally at what was his current school.

Sitting there he wondered why it was that he couldn’t asset himself more? Okay so he had married his high school girlfriend, it wasn’t like Mark had thought. He really had believed that he loved her, that she was the one that he wanted to spend his life with. As for the notion that he knew then that he was gay, well maybe but not the way Mark thought.

Sure he had had those kind of thoughts, dreams even but he had just chalked it up to being a bit different. Back then in the 1980’s there was a lot of talk about it, it grabbed his attention or so he had thought. It wasn’t that he had ever really enjoyed sex with Norma Jean but it was after all what was expected. You didn’t go to school and not date, and if you dated you were expected to at least try to get in her pants. How did he know that he would succeed?

He felt the pain inside of his heart as he realized just how much of his life had been a lie. Inside he knew, always knew that guys held more interest for him than women but it hadn’t stopped him from doing what was expected of him by his friends, by his own family even. Norma Jean was a nice girl, or had been. She loved him then and it had simply not occurred to them to use condoms or anything else.

Now here he was, 32 years old without a job and having to pay alimony for a 14 year old daughter who refused to even talk to him and another 12 year old daughter who rarely bothered to say hello when he called. As for Norma Jean, well she had simply taken to being down right nasty.

He got up and stood up by the wall where his portable television was. He had it surrounded by shelves that contained nothing but paperback books that he had collected over the years. Reading had been a passion for him and he had over 700 books, and now that was all he had left to show for his life with Norma Jean. Strange how in some ways he really didn’t mind that. The SUV was too expensive for him anyhow and he had a nice second hand, well really fifth or sixth hand little datsun now. It saved him on insurance as well as gas but still it wasn’t easy to afford given how most of his income went to child support and Norma Jean.

She had been so vicious it had stunned him. Even when the divorce had been final last June she hadn’t relented one bit. She still hounded him, especially when alimony or child support cheque didn’t show up on time she would be on the phone yelling at him, accusing him of all sorts of things, deriding him and threatening him with her lawyer the next day. It had gotten to the point that he had finally arranged for an automatic withdrawal just to avoid the phone calls.

Custody had been another battle all together. At first he had gotten every other weekend but within a few months she had gotten full custody demanding supervised visits only. She felt his affliction, as she called it, might harm the well being of her daughters. The judge had agreed after less than a half hour of arguments.

Then just after the final papers had been signed, she once more took him to court demanding no visitation rights based on his ‘deviant lifestyle’ and again, the judge had granted it. Hell he hadn’t even been with a guy and the judge accepted her lawyers claim that he was perverted, that he was unfit to be near small children. Christ the Judge had even issued a damn restraining order which his lawyer had finally gotten removed, but the whole summer had been nothing but a struggle to just remain sane in a world gone mad.

Well at least he had his books and they at least still managed to give him some solace, some comfort. To be honest he knew he should have perhaps broken it off with Norma Jean a long time before but he never could bring himself to talk to her about it. He still didn’t know if he would have if she hadn’t found his men magazines. It was his one major fault really, his inability to stand up for himself or to even defend himself.

Christ look at how he acted with Mark. He knew in his heart that Mark only looked at him as a piece of fresh meat but he hung around him none the less. He knew that all Mark wanted was to fuck him and once that he had, Jock knew he’d more than likely not even bother to answer his phone calls. Still he didn’t stop calling Mark which only proved his point, he was just too much of a wimp.

Oh he had tried, but Mark was right actually. He was pussy whipped in more ways than even Mark could know. His parents had been immigrants and worked hard. They didn’t understand this part of him and when the divorce had come out, they had been stunned and disappointed. Time would heal that, he hoped but still you could hear their reticence in their voices when he called them every Sunday. They didn’t exactly turn away from him but he no longer was asked over for dinner, was no longer asked to attend birthday or anniversary events either. It was like they were ashamed of him which he accepted, perhaps even agreed with.

He just stood there, looking around at the sum total of his life. There was no way of knowing if he’d ever teach again which hurt. It was his passion, to see kids learning and knowing that whatever they became, he might have had a small part in their success. Yet that too was now being taken from him simply because he was different. There was an anger inside of him that he struggled with as he stared at nothing but the emptiness of the room. How could he have allowed himself to get into this situation?

Jock still wasn’t certain when the knowledge that he was gay actually made it into his conscious mind, but it sure as hell fucked him up when it did. He still found himself asking if he was but he had to admit, he liked it when Mark would play with his dick, when he would kiss him hard on the lips. It was something he had never experienced when he had sex with Norma Jean. Of course he never had sex with any other female but it just, well just didn’t feel the same. Sure he could get it up for her, after all they did have two kids but that was physical and it wasn’t automatic either. It took effort to force his body to obey the needs but with Mark it was different. Shit even with the guys he would stare at it was like a whole different feeling. His dick would grow hard and there were times when it ached so much that he had to jerk off twice just to relax. As much he would like to rationalize it, he couldn’t. Simple fact was that he was gay and he better start getting used to it. Everyone else seemed to accept it so he might as well.

He reached out for his road map to find the best way out of the city to head to Arnold. God why did a guy who won so much money want to live way up there? Okay it was up in the Sierra’s and was wine country but still, why go up there when you had so much in the city? Part of him felt kind of envious though, it would be nice to just be someplace where there wasn’t all the hassle and hustle of a big city. Maybe that was the answer but he wished he didn’t have to go to this party.

In his heart he knew that Mark would be Mark and that he would wind up sitting in a corner watching Mark hold court. The guy loved to be the centre of attention and from what he had seen of the guest list, there were plenty of single men who would willingly oblige Mark his wants and needs. It pissed him off a little because he knew that Mark was doing it for that reason. He wanted to be Jock’s first and was using these other guys as a way to force him.

Part of him felt like just giving in, to let Mark fuck him up the ass but something kept holding him back. He couldn’t explain it, just that it hadn’t felt right to do even though each time he jerked off he thought about it. He really did wonder what it would feel like to have another man entering his body in that way. Those thoughts always made him ache in a strange way but the end result was that he always shot a hard heavy load afterwards. Christ maybe he should just do it but then, what about after?

Jock was smart enough to know that Mark would maybe keep him around a bit longer after that but not much. Mark was the type who didn’t want commitments. He just wanted to party and go from one body to the next. Most of the people that Mark had introduced him to weren’t really much different. The weekends were spent bar hopping or house hopping. Drugs flowed almost as freely as the booze did.

In some ways it had been what he had needed but lately the idea of spending a weekend getting pissed with a bunch of pretty people just didn’t seem as enjoyable as it once had. Maybe it was that he finally had enough of hiding or maybe it was just that he was wanting something more than what he was getting? Christ there was no way that Mark would want to go to the opera or see a show or even a movie. All that guy and his group seemed to want was to get high and drunk and fuck their brains out.

One thing about falling in with Mark and his crowd was that he at least had picked up some tips on what to do and what not to do when getting it on. It was like most of them couldn’t care who was in the room when the mood came on them. That was more from the drugs and booze but still it shocked him at first, still did really. Maybe Mark was right, maybe deep down he was just a prude but to him sex was something you did in private, not in front of a whole group of people you barely knew.

There had been that one weekend when Mark had more less shamed him into doing some cocaine. Drugs had always scared him really but he had given in. To this day he still felt a bit uneasy about that episode, and his mind kept badgering him about it. While the high itself had been something unexpected, the feelings afterwards sure as fuck weren’t. He still felt dirty for doing it and for all that went on after. Now here he was being conned into another party where more than likely the drugs would flow. He really didn’t want to stay but inside he knew he would. Not for the drugs but simply for the companionship.

His eyes misted a little as he realized that if Mark did dump him, he really still would have no one. It was that feeling that had finally driven him to that bar where Mark had picked him up and so what did the future hold for him? If things went on this way he knew that eventually Mark would tire of trying to nail him, then he would be alone again. So, what was he going to do, keep going to bars to try and find someone who wasn’t looking for a quick lay?

He supposed he could try joining some of those gay groups he had heard about and there had been a time when he had tried to find them. Hell last summer even he had thought about some of those groups but he just didn’t know how to go about it then. Really didn’t know anymore now either but at least he knew some more names. Maybe that was the way to go but shit, what if they were like everything else?

Queer As Folk was a show he had watched off and on last summer. To him Mark Thayer was Brian Kinney but he sure as hell was no Justin. Still the way they portrayed the lifestyle was exactly how it seemed to be with Mark. The drugs, booze, the endless mindless sex. So maybe the show was bang on which meant that the other gay groups wouldn’t be for him anymore than this lifestyle was. Yet there had to be more to being gay than either partying or being some rights activist?

Jock reached out and picked up the book he had been reading. His eyes glanced over to the silver frame that held the pictures of his two daughters. His heart shuddered a little as he realized that it might be a long time before they would accept him into their lives again if ever. He felt the loss deeply as he tried to lose himself in his only real friend, his books.

The Lottery

Part 1

Paul threw his satchel on the sofa as he came into the living room. His head ached from another day trying to impart some wisdom into the heads of his students, but he doubted if he managed to even make a dent in their thick heads. They really didn’t have the passion for it as he did, well maybe make that as he once did. Even he was feeling rather disappointed in his beloved constitution, but then that was maybe just due to his lack of sleep.

It was already nearing time for the Christmas break and since July he rarely had slept thru the entire night. He just couldn’t get past reliving those few weeks in July when he had stayed up at Tommy’s house at the River. Funny, how something inconsequential could wind up haunting you for weeks or months even. Maybe he was simply losing it or more likely he was just feeling his age.

He had celebrated his 60^th birthday back then, realizing too that at 60 he didn’t feel like he had really done much. Oh he had his degree, was a tenured professor of Constitutional Law at one of the nations top law schools and yet he felt unfulfilled. He glanced around at the neatly placed furniture, the glass dining table off in one corner, the huge picture screen television taking up one entire wall of his top floor apartment. Still while he had the material things he didn’t feel like he had anything else.

There had been that one brief romance, but that was now nearing almost 20 years ago. Third of his life was gone without him, and he had to admit, he still missed Jason. Hell he still got angry at him for dieing, and then too he also got sad at the loss. He was the one, the one who would have made his life complete and even though Jason had died nearly 20 years ago, he sill found himself thinking of him, well at least until last July. Then ‘he’ came into Paul’s life and the worse thing about it was he didn’t even know who ‘he’ was. Shit he didn’t even know the guy’s name or anything about him but still the chance encounter had done something to him.

His whole body would get warm and tingly just recalling that first sighting of him. Now his nights were haunted by those brief and distant glances. Nothing he could do seemed to stop the dreams from coming to him. It was almost as if some strange force had decided to punish him for his own reticence.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to get up off the beach the instant he had seen the tall young blonde man, but he was too set in his ways. Well okay, if he was really honest it wasn’t that, it was simply that he was out of touch with how to do it. He hadn’t dated or talked really to any stranger for years. Sure he had met a few online but they were off in space for all he knew. This was different and yet in some ways the same.

Ever since Jason had died from complications due to AIDS back in the mid 80’s, he had rarely gone out to the bars or clubs. He had his circle of friends then more or less but even then he had never really been a social animal. Jason had been perhaps the one exception to the story of his life. Somehow, he had found himself meeting him, talking to him when normally he would only converse with those he knew. It had been too swift, too quick and yet there were the memories.

He could still see the way Jason’s eyes would light up when something good had happened, or how his face would pucker up when he was upset. Nothing could erase those memories or the way he felt each time they had held hands and just simply strolled down the Castro. Nothing could take that away and yet even now, as he walked softly into the kitchen to see what was in the fridge, he could feel Jason’s breathe on his cheek, the warmth of his hand in his own and he shivered a bit. Did he believe in ghosts or was it simply his advancing years that had made him so introspective lately?

Paul felt a small tremble in his legs as he stared at the open fridge, wondering if he’d heat up the chicken thigh or not and yet while his mind pondered the choices, he felt the tugging of his heart. It was almost as if he was witnessing a battle of wills between two adamant forces. His mind was desperate to focus on the mundane, the normal while his heart was equally determined to not let that happen. It felt really like part of him that had been dormant for years was suddenly pushing to get out.

Damn ‘him’ whoever he was, he thought as he slammed the fridge door. If he hadn’t seen him, if he hadn’t kept staring none of this would be happening to him. His heart would be quiet and he could continue in his quest for simple peace. Now he was feeling tormented by the tall stranger’s face, his longish dirty blonde hair that dangled near his broad shoulders. It wasn’t that this stranger was some chiselled hunk but he was built with the right proportions. His head had a strange familiar shape to it, the nose just perfect and from what he had seen, the man had very thin lips that he wished he could touch.

Sitting down at his dining table, Paul stared out the window across to the park down below. There were two men walking across the open field holding hands and his heart began to ache. God he wished Jason was here, if only he hadn’t died, but then life was full of ‘what ifs’. If this hadn’t happened, if this had was something he hated doing and yet lately it seemed to be all he did. If he had only gotten up the nerve to stand up and meet that stranger, if only he had not gone to the beach that day, if only he hadn’t spent the last 20 years mourning his loss. God if only he could get past all this but there he went again, ‘if only’.

The summer and early fall had been bad enough with the constant dreams of that man, now it was intruding on his thoughts while awake as well. He had tried sleeping pills and still the dreams would come. Still he would see that tall figure slowly walking at the water’s edge. His head constantly turning not to look up at the people on the beach but at the water. Maybe it was that which had first made him notice him, but he wasn’t certain.

There was something about how he walked, his feet moving slowly but methodically along the sand. His legs were long and from the distance looked baby smooth. Only the darkness around the ankles where the water lapped did he see the darker colour which showed that the man had fine hair along his legs. That in itself had been more than enough to pique his interest but it didn’t stop there. The man wore the same coloured khaki shorts that ended just above the knees. The legs run upwards to a what appeared to be a full torso that wasn’t chiselled but it didn’t look flabby either.

He hadn’t been wearing a shirt then and come to think of it, Paul realized that he only saw him that way for the entire two weeks that he had been blessed, or was it cursed, with the image of the solitary man walking along the beach. He knew he was heading back into his dreams and it was only 6 at night but he just didn’t care. At least in the dreams he had the nerve to approach the man, at least in the dreams he spoke to him and found a man worth knowing. Maybe that was the problem because in reality he doubted if anyone like that would even give him the time of day, let alone spend hours talking about life, about work, about anything.

To be honest it was that certain knowledge that had held him glued to the beach instead of letting him jump up and race down to meet the man. If only he had done that but he hadn’t so why couldn’t he shake that man’s image from his memory? Why had it become so insistent that he felt like he was being consumed by it? Even driving to work or coming home he would find his eyes glancing at the cars passing him by to see if he could spot him. It was almost worse than a drug addiction he thought as he pulled the day’s newspaper open to stare at the headlines. Dinner once more forgotten as his mind continued to battle with the obsessive memories coming from deep within.

Even work no longer appealed to him and he had found his mind wandering during the lectures. All he could think about was this strange young looking man. He never even really had a good close up look of him, afraid maybe that he would notice and yet he knew inside that the man had. It was almost as if they had met but from a distance. No words were exchanged, not even a nod or glance but their eyes had met. It seemed that was enough to torment him ever since and Paul quickly grasped the edges of the newspaper. He was not going to let the pained look on the man’s face, the brooding glare of his eyes intrude any more. So he thought as he stared down at the day’s headlines, realizing just how much he was feeling on edge.

There was no specific issue or reason, just that for some time he felt not empty really, just more incomplete. It was like something was missing from him, a part of him had vanished and again the anger and sorrow came to him. Why had it had to happen to Jason? They had talked about life together, about sharing retirement and of even sharing more. Hell Paul had even broached the topic of adoption once or twice. The way Jason’s face had lit up at the idea was still something that warmed his heart. If only he had lived, maybe then Paul wouldn’t be feeling this alone, this empty?

His body sagged a little against the back of the chair as he flipped thru the day’s events. Another death in Iraq, another supposed threat and more corporate profits for friends of those in power. It never ended and yet even as he stared at the rhetoric about another court challenge to the recall petition he knew that none of it really interested him anymore. Constitutional issues no longer drew him, no longer fuelled his spirit or ignited his soul. It all was routine now, dull and beyond his interest.

Again the image of that man walking along the water’s edge, kicking listlessly at the sand tore into his heart. That made him cringe, made him ponder life now instead of the law, instead of the world around him. He felt the ache in his heart as he turned the pages towards the lottery results from last night’s big lottery. It was at 80 million and like most people he had been playing it for some time. It felt good to dream about winning it but he knew inside that would never be. He just wasn’t lucky enough or blessed, whichever way you wanted to look at it. Still, what he could do with that kind of money would certainly go a long way to easing some of his dissatisfaction.

His eyes finally focused on the list of numbers as he mouthed each one. They seemed so familiar but then they usually did until he actually took his ticket out to check. He had come close once, he had two numbers then but close didn’t count. His ticket was on the table and he leaned forward to grab it, seeing the notice that there had been one winning ticket according to the lottery agency. He hoped whoever the lucky bugger was that he would enjoy the money, only wished that he was him.

Taking the ticket he sat it next to the dark numbers on the paper, running his finger over each of his own numbers while his eyes followed back and forth, checking to see just how far off he was. Trouble this time though was that he was so befuddled, so obsessed with the guy from the summer that he was reading the same numbers. He shook his head to try and clear the fog so he could really see how many numbers he was off.

His heart began to tremble a little as he bent down closer, his mind refusing to accept the verdict from his eyes. The first number matched, then the second number, then the third, and on it went. He leaned back in the chair wiping his eyes, blinking several times as if he might have something in them that made him misread the numbers. Quickly he pulled his glasses out, the reading specs, and once more he slowly began to check the numbers. Yes, the first one was the same, so was the second and third and fourth and now his heart began to pound in his chest. It was impossible but no matter what he did, the numbers on his ticket matched those listed on the paper.

Surely it had to be wrong. Maybe the paper had made a mistake but then he knew that couldn’t be. The paper may get a lot of things wrong, like who said what or exactly what happened where, but they never got the lottery numbers wrong or missed the comics. It was like those two areas were sacred or something. Still he couldn’t have the winning numbers, it wasn’t his luck but there it was. The numbers on his ticket were the same as those in the paper.

Two things struck him. One was that it couldn’t be true, that those weren’t the real numbers. Second was that he could now perhaps find out who that guy was that had captured his imagination and had lain siege to his thoughts. Funny how in one instant he didn’t think it could happen and in the other split second was already spending the money on a hopeless quest. He had to be losing it as he took the ticket and headed to his computer. There was one sure way to know if the numbers were right, he’d check the numbers at the lottery agency website.

Mere minutes later he was sitting back in the chair. His heart was no longer echoing in his ears and he could feel the sweat cooling as it slowly dried. His screen just stared at him, the list of numbers still burning brightly before him as he sat there. His ticket had those numbers, not one or two but every blessed one of them. He was that lucky son of a bitch and yet his mind still found it impossible to accept.

Everything he had always wanted, dreamed of having now was there in front of him. He could have it all now without any worry. Even if he took the payout and after taxes he’d be left with at least 35 million dollars. More than enough for him and for all he wanted. Yet even as he thought about all the nice new toys he could have, that damn image of ‘him’ floated around it all. More than that he could see the face almost as if he was at the beach. He could see the pain etched in the face, the way the mouth was drawn tightly together, the way the eyes brimmed with grief of some kind. He had thought that maybe he had lost a lover, or someone but then he knew in his heart it was something else. Now here he was, on the very precipice of a new life and all he could think about was this guy. Wondering how he could find him and worse, knowing that now he might stand a chance of him actually being interested. Thirty Five million or so would make anyone seem attractive and he hated himself for thinking that way.

Just like it had been all month long, his mind quickly switched from ‘him’ to Jason. The one real fight that they had ever had had been about just that very thought. Jason had gotten quite indignant actually when it had come up. He just didn’t understand how Paul could think of himself that way and yet he did. Maybe it was from not being outgoing as a kid or always being the ‘brain’ in school. Whatever it was he never really believed that he could attract anyone on his looks, personality, or intelligence. It would drive Jason mad and yet Paul just couldn’t accept it. He just didn’t believe it, and even now, so long afterwards he still wondered what it was that Jason had seen in him.

Now here he was, a winner of a huge sum of money and all he could think of was that maybe now he stood a chance with some guy he had never spoken to, never gotten within ten feet of? Maybe now he stood a chance of finding him? He had to be going crazy or maybe it was just that he was reaching that age when life ahead seemed so short. Whatever it was he knew that he was going to be in for some changes which held him firmly in the chair. Change was not something Paul relished, good or bad didn’t matter, he just didn’t like change.

After over an hour of staring at the numbers on the screen he finally summoned the courage to reach out and turn the machine off. He looked down at the ticket and quickly put his name on the back so no one else could cash it. It was his and he still couldn’t quite believe that maybe at last, things were going in a good direction. Paul rolled the chair back and stood up, feeling wobbly at the knees but slowly he kept to his feet. His heart ached and his mind was still in shock actually as he stared around the room. It was his home but it was now just a room, just an apartment. He knew he wouldn’t have to compromise now, that he could have the home of his dreams but he also knew that before he did anything he would have to get some safety precautions in place.

By his side of the bed stood the two silver framed photographs. The one of his parents made him smile as he looked down at it. He felt a small twinge of regret that they weren’t alive to help enjoy this windfall but they had had a good life. At least they were together now and it was then that his eyes moved to the other photograph. There was Jason’s face staring out at him. His eyes were a smouldering blue colour that the picture had captured and he had that thin curl to his lips, the almost laughing look.

Why did you have to die?

Paul’s eyes misted as his voice echoed in the empty bedroom and his thoughts turned to what if, to if only Jason had lived. How much more this windfall would mean something if only, but it hadn’t happened then, it happened now. He wiped the tears from his face and moved towards the phone. There was a lot he needed to set in motion and the first step was to get a hold of Tommy and then a lawyer. After that, well perhaps a nice long trip would be in order, a chance for him to escape the carnival atmosphere that would evolve once his circle found out about his winnings. God he could see it all now, see how Mark would be constantly hanging around, how some of the others would suddenly be phoning him every night, wanting something or other. No, a trip would at least minimize that headache.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the picture of Jason in his hands as he tried to think, tried to accept that his life had just taken a major shift. There was fear, panic even that was trying to grab his attention and yet the only power that was attracting his attention was the fear that even with all this new found wealth, he might not be able to once more see ‘him’. His head ached but so did his heart as he sat there, the image of one lost love clutched tightly in one hand, the image of another dancing in his head.

What perhaps was bizarre was that Jason didn’t look anything like him. Jason had been short and lithe in body. He on the other hand seemed taller, more well built in body structure and there was no mistaking the solid torso or long legs either. Jason had a rather shortness to his look, not that he really was all that short, but he had short cut hair, thin eyebrows, and short wiry hairs where it all matted together. Strange, he had felt such devotion and love with Jason and now he could only think of this stranger.

At first his mind had rebelled, trying to guilt him into pushing him aside but it hadn’t worked. In his heart he knew that Jason would approve of him moving on, would encourage it if he could even. That notion suddenly made him start and he sucked in his breath a little as he realized that maybe in some strange way Jason had. The ticket was once more pulled out and he stared down at the numbers. There was his birth date, Jason’s, and the date they had met. They had formed the core, and it had been the first time he had elected to play those sets of numbers. Normally he simply took a quick pick but when buying the ticket, something had made him alter his routine of the last ten years. Something had given him the urge to simply choose a set of numbers and there they were, staring at him as if maybe they really were trying to tell him something. The final number had been Jason’s age when he had passed away. It all fit but while his mind said it was merely random chance, deep in his heart he wondered if that was true? Could it be a sign?

Strange really how suddenly everything around him seemed so different. It was almost like he was now looking from outside at his life and what had once meant something no longer seemed to look all that important. Other things that hadn’t really meant or seemed important now appeared to take on a whole new meaning for him. The bed would go to his new place, new mattress perhaps but the frame would stay. Jason had helped him pick it out and his hand ran over the brass tubing of the headboard. As it did he could remember the bright afternoons that they had spent shopping for it and as the memories came to him, he realized that most of those days weren’t really sunny but to him they were. It was confusing and then not as he realized that just being with Jason had given him a whole different outlook on life.

It had been an outlook that had lasted longer than Jason’s own life had perhaps. Maybe that was his trouble? Maybe those memories were fading or perhaps it was simply that he hadn’t found any new ones to add to the collection? Could that be why his heart latched onto him so quickly and so fervently? Was it a desire to simply stop the day to day existence and to once more go out and experience life? Could it be that all this was some plan or some cosmic inspiration designed to get him off his ass and out living again?

Right at this second in time he suddenly wished he hadn’t taken Philosophy or been so engrossed in it. Maybe if he simply went with the flow more life would have been different since Jason had passed away, or would it have been? Even as a teenager he had never really been an extrovert, more of a loner who enjoyed reading, loved listening to music but he also enjoyed sitting out and watching a sunset or sunrise. The last time he had done that had been days before Jason had passed on. They had moved the bed to the window and had lain there together, holding hands just enjoying that beautiful sunrise over the city.

It was so amazing really. Here he was decades later and he could still feel the sun’s rays warming his face as they lay there, still feel the awe of watching the golden beams reflecting off roof tops that were now long replaced by newer and taller ones. Strange how the heart could hold all that and yet he had barely ever glanced at the skyline since. Yet in his heart he could see it all as if it was just this morning. Jason had made him do things he had never really done since entering college.

They had taken walks along the various parks, holding hands when they could, watching to see who was approaching or looking before stealing a kiss here and there. Now of course it was common in most areas of the city but still you could see how some would look first, wondering if it was safe. Jason had done that, and then near the end he had stopped doing it. He would just reach out and kiss Paul on the cheek no matter who was around. He had known then that his time was limited but he refused to live the secret life.

It had been hard for Paul to see Jason push himself as he went to meetings, went to fund raisers and rallies. Jason had become an activist in his last years and he dragged Paul with him. All that was gone now, and yet in his heart Paul wished he hadn’t let that part of his life lapse. The fire that it put in Jason’s eyes had been worth the effort, had been worth the fear and trepidation. It was almost as if Jason was reborn for those last months and yet when he had died, all of that had gone too. Paul sat there wondering if perhaps he had failed Jason by not keeping up with the protests, with the rallies, with the activism. Still, it wasn’t him or was it? His love for the constitution and politics would say otherwise but that too seemed gone now.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he carefully put Jason’s picture back on his night table. He lightly pressed a finger to his lips and then to Jason’s face. Whatever else had gone on around them he knew that he had loved Jason and he knew too that Jason had loved him. Could he ever have that again he thought? Perhaps, and for what it was worth, his heart seemed to think so just as Jason had as well.

Well Jason, I sure as hell hope you were right.

Paul reached out for the phone to call Tommy. It was time he started to get things organized and he knew his long time friend and accountant would have to be the starting point. A new life lay before him which terrified him but maybe it was time that he stopped being safe. The voice on the other end of the phone brought his mind away from the smiling face in the photograph and back to the present.

Tommy, Paul here. I think I need to have you come over if you can, uh, yes now please. I know, it is late but well, you’ll understand when you get here. No, no, I am fine, more than fine, but I’ll explain when you get here.

He put the phone down and then went to the computer where he pulled up the directory for San Francisco. He quickly moved to the listing for detective agencies and began to jot down a few numbers as he waited for Tommy. Life was never going to be the same for him as he smiled a little to himself, ignoring the rumbling of his stomach and the whining of his mind. At least he would try to find him.

Kissing the Gunner’s Daughter

By Ian Kovnats (Gaystoryman)

Copyright © 2008 ? All Rights Reserved

Part (-)

Judging by the lengthening shadows of the mast on the deck, Craig knew that his time was nearly at an end. Soon, the First Mate would be by, and after maybe some added whacks, it would be over, until they came up with the next stage of his initiation. For a few seconds, he didn’t feel all that bad, until he heard the soft trod of feet, and he gritted his teeth, knowing what was to come.

The sound rang in his ears, and the pain lanced up from his bruised buttocks, to make his legs tremble a little, as the hard paddle struck him across both bare cheeks. He winced, knowing that it was Johnson who had passed by, as the pain began to ease.

They had made it sound like a gift, like he had been granted some special status to join the elite of the fraternity on their 10 day cruise. He had fallen for it, and as he counted off the days, he realized that in many ways, it had been special. His ass wasn’t quite so sure, because for the first 5 days, from early morning till supper, he was stretched out over the ancient cannon that sat on the main deck.

It had been a carry over or something from the benefactor, that had deeded the large sailboat to the Fraternity, Sigma Phi Tau. Even the moorage fees and upkeep had been included in the old geezer’s will, with one stipulation. It was required that each spring, the fraternity leaders would set sail for a ten day cruise, taking two pledges, for initiation into the manly art of sailing.

So they had explained to him, but what they hadn’t explained that the old crock that had willed them the boat, had been very specific as to what he deemed proper initiation into sailing. If he had known, he might have passed, but then this was a chance to earn his striped, to be fast tracked for a position in the Fraternity pecking order.

He wasn’t what you would call popular, but he wasn’t a hermit either. Craig had his circle of friends, and he had passed the first week of college life, without much ado. He had pledged, taken the paddling, the egg roll, and all the other so called harmless fun that went with pledging a fraternity, in stride. Done okay too, and now he had a chance to stand out from the rest of his class.

Unlike Rory, or Jason, he wasn’t endowed with a huge dick, didn’t have a thick uncut penis like Marshall, nor was he a blond, a jock, or even an egghead. He was just one of the guys, bit of flab on is belly from a bit too many beer and pizza nights, but he could still easily fit into a size 26 waist jeans. His chest wasn’t chiselled either, but you could see the pec muscles, and he did have some hair down the centre. Well more like a thin patch of chestnut colored hair, that matched the shaggy mop on his head.

His legs weren’t long, or even rippling with muscles, but he could still run a decent race. His arms weren’t powered by huge biceps, but he didn’t need help in opening a stubborn jar, or in twisting a lug wrench to fix a tire. He was just, well average. So he felt, and being accepted at Sigma Phi Tau had been a feather in his cap. Besides, where else was a queer average bloke gonna pledge to, without feeling like he had to hide his desire or itch for cock?

Life at the Frat House wasn’t what everyone assumed either. It wasn’t an endless round of drinking, while sex parties or endless horseplay. There was some pretty serious stuff going on, and he had enjoyed the friendship of it all, but there was a definite pecking order. The big shots, all had a bit more of a swagger to them, and they were the one’s everyone turned to, when things needed sorting out.

When the request came, for him to join this annual cruise, he was in seventh heaven. A chance to show off, to become part of the higher ups had his head in the clouds for the entire month leading up to this. Now he was here, and it wasn’t what he had expected. To begin with, all new tars[1. ancient reference to sailors] were given their onboard attire. He couldn’t help but snicker a bit, as Greg explained how serious it was, and how they were to not make light of it either, as their would be penalties, such as there had been since ancient times.

There was an order, as he explained the list of duties they would be expected to perform. He had drawn the dubious task of being the cabin boy for the Pilot[2. generally the navigator for the ship], and would also be required to stand the middle watch[3. midnight to 4am]. The Pilot was none other than the Pledge Master[4. fraternity member in charge of all pledges for the term], not someone he wanted to cross.

Everyone that was being allowed to go along, spent the rest of the month doing double duty. They would attend regular classes, do their house chores, and then after dinner, spend time learning all the nautical terms. The weekends were spent aboard the ship itself, being showed exactly what all that was involved. It was pretty serious stuff, as he realized, when he first stared up the long mainmast, to where the Crow’s Nest[5. well above the deck, small area reserved for the ship’s lookout] was located.

Not everyone seemed keen either, and a couple dropped out, but he had stuck it out. And as the sun dropped, he felt the dryness in his throat. It was nearly time, and he knew, that just like all the other times in this cruise, what was coming. Funny thing was, he no longer dreaded it, as he did the first couple of days. Now he seemed to accept it, and while it wasn’t what he’d call pure pleasure, it sure as hell could have been worse.

Least he wasn’t on the sail team, because him and heights were not on friendly terms. Still, he had done his expected climb, had survived without falling, thankfully. All of the tasks he had been assigned, he had done, but it was the second day out, when he had run afoul of the officers. He still wasn’t quite sure how, but now he was bent over the ancient old cannon, in the forecastle[6. small raised platform, at the front of the ship].

At the start of the Afternoon Watch[7. from noon to 4pm] he was to present himself here, be tied over the cannon, and have his pants pulled down, exposing his bare buttocks. He would then be given five simple whacks, to begin his punishment, and left until the start of the second dogwatch[8. second dogwatch is 6pm to 8pm], when he could return to his duties.

That hadn’t sounded bad, until the rest of his sentence had been given. Every person who passed by him, was ordered to administer at least one whack, more if they could. And as he found out, some took advantage of that, giving him some pretty solid whacks.

The first day had been the worse. He had arrived as ordered, a bit hesitant, shirtless as was the norm, as Pilot grabbed each wrist, and tied it tightly around the barrel of the old cannon. He felt the warm metal against his chest, as he his arms were stretched out, and his head rested on the side. He was beginning to understand why they referred to as ‘kissing the gunner’s daughter’ as he tried to get comfortable, to ease the pain on his lower back from being stooped over.

The sea was a bit choppy as well, which didn’t help matters. He could really feel it up this far forward, and each time it plunged down, he found himself banging against the hard iron of the cannon. That first day, he felt like he would throw up, as the Pilot cinched the ropes, giving him some room, but made sure he couldn’t come free.

Then to his embarrassment, his pants were suddenly pulled down, exposing his bare buttocks. There was a snicker from someone, as he had a bit of a boner, and it showed. Despite the hour of the day, the sun wasn’t too hot, or so it seemed, as the first whack was administered by the Pilot. The guy had an awesome reach, and there was no doubt, it was being used to its fullest capacity.

He cried out on that first blow, the surprise of its strength, making him shudder. The pain was still rolling up his spine, when the second blow landed firmly across just one cheek. It made him try to move to one side, restricted by the ropes around his arms. The third blow caught him square on the other side, almost as if it had been anticipated by his punisher.

Once more he cried out, the surprise making it seem even worse. The blow had landed not just across his cheek, but on the side of his upper thigh, which hurt like bloody hell. He felt the pain, felt the tingling in his toes even, as the boat heaved up, and as it plunged down into the trough of the wave, the fourth blow landed squarely across both cheeks.

Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes, as the warmth of the previous blows began to seep up into his body. The blow itself had made him gasp for air, as it landed so squarely across both cheeks, that he felt himself press hard into the cannon.

He felt tiny drops of water across his back, and his shaking buttocks, thinking it was the spray from the ocean, but soon he could tell it was rain water. The drops continued to grow in intensity, as the fifth blow landed, making a sort of squishing sound. It hit his wet cheeks, making an even louder sound, making him wince more, as the pain moved up and down his body.

The rain splattered across his back, and his cheeks, making him very uncomfortable. The metal of the cannon seemed to cool in the rain, and he realized he had hours to go, before being released. The muscles in his arms were already sore, from straining at the rope while he had received his first whacks. He listened to the shouts and to the creaks as the boat continued to push forward, as if it had forgotten about him.

The sudden pain that struck his buttocks made him yell out, and he knew everyone had heard him. He bit his lower lip, as a second blow landed and he knew that he had already passed an hour, with only five more to go, for the day. For his first day, it had been ordered that on the hour, he would receive his punishment, from the nearest person at the time.

As the third blow came he closed his eyes, wondering who it was that was giving him such a hard paddling. It was even worse than the first set, mainly due to the rain that was still falling across his naked body. The water had been running down his back, down his crack, and his skin was soaked from it, as the paddle came crashing down for a fourth hard blow. It was almost as if the damn cannon had been fired, the way he bucked and shook to that blow. The pain was intense, and he felt the tears running down his face, mingling with the rain water.

The fifth and final blow for the hour, came on the heels of the last one. It was striking his body long before he had processed the last one. The pain just seemed to roll on, to be never ending. He was panting, gasping for air, as his body trembled to the two blows. He felt himself leaning hard into the old cannon, his face pressed hard into the cold iron.

The pelting rain ended, as the last blow was still tingling inside. His legs were cramped, but gradually relaxing, as the sun began to warm his body, to ease the chill he was feeling everywhere, except his buttocks. The twin cheeks felt like they were under the flame of a blowtorch. The heat was so intense, so painful, that he was certain they were on fire. Yet, as the sun began to beat down, as the front end of the boat seemed to ease in its upward downward jerking motion, he began to relax.

Just as his body would begin to relax, just when the pain would seem distant and ineffective, it would all begin again. For the next three hours, he would just get used to being stretched out over the cannon, when he would be once more tugging at the wrist restraints, as the pain would lance upwards, would fill his mind.

Each stinging blow make a memory on his mind, made his arms struggle against the hard rope that held him down. The pain of the rope cutting into his flesh was nothing, compared to how each blow felt as it landed across his cheeks. The feeling of being on fire grew, and seemed to just end, before starting all over again.

At the time, he didn’t think nodding off while on watch was a big deal, now he knew different, as the minutes ticked away. He had tried to keep track, to count, to be ready for the hour’s punishment, but he couldn’t. The idea of dozing came up, but he fought it, hating the idea. It was that which had gotten him into this predicament, and he would be damned if he’d fall asleep now. Hell, he was certain they were all watching him, as he felt their eyes on his back.

It also made him horny, which surprised him. Yet after each set of blows was over, he felt the ache in his groin too. His balls were full, feeling like they were ready to explode, and the brushing of his cock against the now hot metal of the cannon only added to his frustration. It was bizarre, to feel so aroused, yet he did. Worse, there was nothing he could do about it, even though he tried.

His hands were bound, but his body wasn’t. He thought about just rubbing his body across the hard cannon, but then he realized how much he was in the open. He tried to think of things, that would make the ache go away, but he couldn’t. It just wouldn’t last, only made it worse as he waited for the next round, for the next session of pain.

Looking upwards, Craig noticed the shadows, saw how they moved as the ship moved. He could even see the sails, the way there were people up on the yard[9. horizontal spar that the sail falls down from] all showed in front of his eyes. He felt the warmth now just from the sun, knowing it would soon be hotter, and not from the setting sun.

Craig licked his lips, waiting, trying to figure out how much longer he had to wait, until he heard the soft footfalls of several bare feet. His body tensed, as he felt their presence, unable to turn and look behind. He was feeling totally exhausted, but awake, as he stared ahead, trying to see into the shadows now, feeling the ocean’s breeze blowing over his prone body.

If he tried hard enough, he thought he could hear breathing, hear other’s nearby, but still no blows came, nothing. It was unnerving, making him want to shout out, to have them get it over with, but he bit his lower lip instead, waiting.

Time seemed to be still, as he waited. His hands were tense, his arms bulged a bit, as they flexed, and his legs pushed outwards a little more, to ease the stiffness in them. His muscles were tightly wound up inside, as he found himself panting, found his own chest heaving a bit, as he waited.

Just as before, the first blow landed without warning. He cried out, as the pain raced up his spine. He bit his lower lip harder, tasting blood as the second blow crashed down on his shaking cheeks. It made him grunt, clench his teeth, as he felt his cock shake, felt it awaken too. Once more he let his body try to relax, to not strain at the ropes, but he failed. The fourth blow was even harder, making him cry out.

He struggled against his restraints, that seemed to make those watching snicker a little. Craig felt the embarrassment grow, as a hand reached between his legs, and pulled his nearly fully erect penis down, so it dangled under his groin. There was a small sound of someone clapping, then the final blow landed squarely across both of his cheeks.

Tears were rolling down his face, as he heard himself cry out, as he sobbed. The pain was intense, yet he felt strangely satisfied, that he had made it through the day. His muscles ached, yet as his arms began to relax, to stop pulling at the rope, he could feel the silence behind him. Then he flinched, as he felt the hard paddle up against his cheeks, making them quiver. He didn’t know what was about to happen, as the hard wooden edge of the paddle began to move down one leg, than across to move along the other leg. He felt them tighten, felt his body once more strain at the restraints, as the wood slowly moved up and across his lower back, then up his spine, to lay just below the back of his head, alongside his neck.

The flat of the paddle now rested just below his neck, and he felt his chest heave, as he held his breath, wondering what was to come next. Then he felt the hands at his wrists, felt the rope being undone, and two pairs of strong hands were gripping his upper arms, lifting him upwards. He blinked as he stared out at the setting sun, at the horizon ahead. It was a deep red, where the sky met the ocean, and he sighed, as he was lifted up.

His legs were still numb, and he felt the arms holding all of his weight, as he was gently moved around, and as he looked out, he saw his crew mates all standing there. They were all staring at him, as he stared back, wondering what they were thinking, feeling himself slowly regaining use of his limbs.

He felt the two holding him up, bring him closer to the figure standing almost directly in front. Craig recognized him, as the Captain of the cruise, also the President of the fraternity. He had a lean looking face, bit of a hooked nose that seemed to suit the ancient naval attire, he was dressed in. He couldn’t help but notice, that he too had a bit of a bulge showing.

‘You are lucky, in the real Navy, falling asleep on watch usually meant flogging, and being held in irons.’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘You are excused from your duties. You will report for punishment prior to the afternoon watch, is that understood?’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Good, you are dismissed to go below, Henry will attend to you there.’

Craig watched as Tommy turned away and walked stiffly away. He couldn’t help but stare at him, at the firm buttocks, even as his own body protested every roll of the ship. His legs were still numb, as the two holding him began to move forward, to help him go down below. He also saw Henry standing by the hatch to the crew quarters.

It was strange, but as he made his way towards the hatch, everyone that was staring at him, all seemed to be sporting a most distinctive bulge in their pants. Wasn’t hard to spot either, given the pants they all wore. No one wore undies, and as he came closer, he couldn’t help but see just how thick Henry’s crotch was, along with that wicked evil grin he was well noted for. He smiled, realizing that it just might be worth it, if that little grin was for real, if Henry’s reputation was for real.

The throbbing pain from the day’s punishment seemed to be replaced, by the ache in his own crotch, as he was led below.

The sudden blow across his cheeks startled him, as he lifted his head upwards. His daydream had ended abruptly, as he felt the pain race up his spine. Looking up and out, he noticed that the shadows were begin to lengthen, as another day’s torment was drawing to a close. His memory of that first day of punishment was nearly forgotten, as his body twitched to the force of the random blow. Yet, even as the stinging blow made him grit his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel a smile cross his face, knowing that Henry would be waiting, to administer to him, just as he had after the first day of punishment.

Trey was a typical teenager. He had just finished his 17th birthday and he didn’t notice any changes. His life still sucked.

He wasn’t a tall lad, only about 5ft 10in but he was built okay. He had strong upper body strength, which he could thank all of the gymnastics that he had been doing since he was a tyke. He had stopped that last year, mainly because he just couldn’t take the comments from the local school kids. Besides, he really wasn’t all that good, passable but never in the medal hunt, so why bother.

Trey lived in a small California town. No big city and his folks were pretty well off. His older brother was off to College and rarely came home. He missed Bobby, specially the way they would play together, rough house around, wrestle and just be together.

Bobby had transferred last year from USC to the University of Miami. He said it was for the courses but Trey knew the truth. His brother had been caught in a compromising situation and his folks thought it better if he put some distance between himself and the family. That way the talk of the town wouldn’t center on him and his father and mother could keep their social standing. That was always the bottom line, Trey thought, how they stood in the community.

It was hard for Trey, this last year, cause everyone in town knew about Bobby and they naturally assumed that he was the same. He remembered the walks downtown and the smirks, the comments, the remarks and the occasional taunts that led to fights. He never won those either, and it always brought him grief at home. His folks just didn’t understand him and they always blamed him. Just once he wished they would take his side, but then that might jeopardize their ‘community standing’ and they couldn’t have that, could they?

The summer was the worst. He liked to go down to the local pond but after the first few weeks, he just spent his time on the farm, or up in his room on his computer. The kids were mean, and they were supposed to be his friends.

He hated the names the most. He just wanted to be liked, yet no matter how hard he tried he was always the outcast, the “Fag”. It was tough to take, especially when he would go to the pond. It never failed that someone would yell out to someone to watch their backside, the fag was on the prowl, or they would yell to someone, hey careful, you got a fag checking you out, or other comments that always made him cry. They called him sissy, girl, freak and a ton of other hurtful names. He just couldn’t take it.

He first met “BoyDad” in one of those chat rooms.

He liked talking with ‘BoyDad’ who it turned out lived a few hours drive away in the city. Well a city compared to his small town. Raymond (‘BoyDad’) seemed to be nice. He always treated Trey with respect and never once called him dumb or made fun of his ideas or thoughts. The whole summer Trey would wait till he could talk with Raymond.

The summer passed slowly for the most part. Trey spent more and more time upstairs online with ‘BoyDad’ and they were rapidly becoming good friends. Even though Trey was only 17, and Raymond was 38, they hit it off, at least so Trey thought. He looked at Raymond as a real friend and he told him his life story. He shared everything with him, and no matter how bad it was outside the bedroom walls, at least he had Raymond.

The Labor Day weekend was here. Trey was excited cause Bobby was coming home for the weekend. He could hardly wait to see him, and he even went out on a rare shopping trip to the local store. That was a mistake, as he ran into some kids from school and the pain and memories deepened as they followed him all around, tormenting him and calling him fag and other names. They taunted him, asking him if he wanted to suck them off, and other things, making sure that everyone could hear. People passed by, looking at him, shaking their heads, and he ended his day out running home in tears.

He was online with Raymond, pouring his heart out when Bobby walked into the room. There was something wrong and he stopped in mid type to see that Bobby was thin and looking bad.

He signed off and waited. Bobby sat down on the bed, looking at him but not the way he ever done before. He had tears in his eyes and he could barely look at Trey. His head was down and finally he spoke.

Bobby’s voice was low and several times he had to stop, to catch his breath and compose himself. Trey listened, his heart pounding, and as the messages slowly sank into his head, he wanted to cry out NO! But he couldn’t. His mouth refused to move and he just sat there.

Bobby had stopped speaking He looked at Trey, waiting, but Trey couldn’t speak. He was stunned and too confused. What could he say? In a few short sentences his world had gone from worse to pure hell.

Bobby slowly stood up and left the room. Trey sat there, not moving and when his mother called up four hours later, Trey still hadn’t moved. He ignored the calls from downstairs and buried his face into his pillow and for the rest of the night he spent the time crying or staring off into space. He didn’t notice the rain hitting the windows and he didn’t notice when his Mother entered his room earlier. He just cried and stared. His whole world was over, he knew that.

Saturday finally arrived. He started to gather his wits and when he went downstairs, for the first time, he found his parents talking. They looked up at him when asked where Bobby was and he almost fell to the ground when they told him that they had taken him to the train and that he was gone back to Florida.

Trey was dumbfounded and he raced outside and slammed the door. How could they do that? Send him away before he could even talk to him? Why hadn’t Bobby even said goodbye to him? Didn’t even Bobby care anymore?

Trey spent the day and the early evening out in the back forty. He sat by the rocks and trees. He felt so alone. His parents didn’t care and now he had lost the only one he could talk to, Bobby, and that too was taken from him. He couldn’t stand it, and then slowly he realized he still had a friend. He had Raymond.

Raymond understood him. He had been so nice during the summer. They even had shared their deepest sexual desires, and Raymond knew so much about sex. Trey was still a virgin, but he enjoyed talking with Raymond, especially when Raymond would tell him how he would hold him, gently touching him. He liked that, being held by someone. Bobby used to hold him and wrap his arms around him. He didn’t have that now did he? Maybe Raymond would help? He wasn’t that far, and he did have Bobby’s old mustang.

His mind was made up and he walked slowly back to the house. He didn’t see his parents as he went to his bedroom. Now all he had to do was get a hold of Raymond and set it up. Raymond would help, he wouldn’t disappoint him.

It took him until 2am before he could get a hold of Raymond. He found in the “Chicken Hawk” chat room. Raymond didn’t hesitate a second. He arranged for Trey to meet him halfway between the city and Trey’s town. Trey actually was happy, a little scared, but at least Raymond cared. Raymond had told him he was doing the right thing, and told him to be careful. He told him not to leave tonight, but to make it the next night. This would avoid problems with his parents at the start. It sounded funny but Trey didn’t care, he just wanted to be held close. He just wanted to feel wanted, he didn’t want to read it, he wanted to experience it and he knew he could trust Raymond.

Sunday passed slowly. He tried to spend most of the time upstairs, avoiding his parents. Every minute he would glance at the clock, willing it to read 7pm but it took forever.

When his parents had left for church, he had snuck down and loaded the car up with some extra clothes. He took his journal, and he even took a picture of him and Bobby out of Bobby’s room. He managed to grab $86 out of his parent’s room, and he figured, that should see him for awhile.

Trey ate quickly. He wanted out and the time was approaching. When he said he was going to go to a movie and would be back late, he thought he would get an argument instead it was like they hardly even noticed. All his mother said was to drive carefully. His dad only grunted, his nose buried in some papers he had in front him.

He had checked earlier in the day, and Raymond was waiting. He had told him how he would take care of his “little boy” which was how he always referred to Trey. He loved that, being someone’s little boy.

He was at the spot, he was sure of that. It was cold out, and he had the car running. He had been here for about an hour now and still no dark blue van. He was getting antsy, wondering if maybe Raymond wasn’t going to show up. He was also having second thoughts about this. Sure Raymond had been nice, but that was online, would he be so nice in person? You heard stories and Trey really was just a babe in the woods. Specially now, he had no one to turn to. No friends, no big brother, no parents, this was getting scary.

Trey shivered as his brain kept dredging up the summer, and last Friday. He was so alone, so scared and all he really wanted was to be accepted, to be loved. As he reflected back, he decided that maybe he should go home. Just as he was gathering up the nerve, the van pulled in. The lights shone inside, and all Trey could tell was that it was a dark van. His heart leaped, as he knew it was Raymond.

He heard the van door slam, and his heart was pounding in his chest. His arms ached as his hands gripped the steering wheel. What if Raymond didn’t like him? What if he thought he was too much off a geek? These thoughts were racing and the adrenalin was flowing. He also was getting excited. He could feel the tightening of his jeans.

A hefty sized male, his head shaggy and a full beard poked into the driver’s window. A wide smile opened, revealing yellow crooked teeth.

“TREY” the head said. “You poor thing, sorry to be late, but the van had trouble starting. You been waiting long? I am so happy to see you son. Come on out here and let me give you a big hug!”

Trey almost cried, and he almost leaped out of the car into Raymond’s arms. It felt so good, those large powerful arms wrapped around his body.

It seemed like hours before the huge grip eased on him. He felt good, well sort of. There was something though, at the back of his brain. It wasn’t as he imagined it would be, and there was no doubt that the image he had of Raymond wasn’t close to the real thing, but who cared, here at least was someone who cared.

Raymond helped Trey grab his stuff and threw into the back of the van. It was a nice van, definitely a ‘make-out’ van. Carpet was spread out, and there was even a soiled mattress on the floor. They sat in the back and Raymond handed Trey a nice cold beer.

It was a nervous time. Trey wasn’t sure, but it just wasn’t right. Raymond seemed to sense this. He kept hugging him, telling him how good he looked, how he was doing the right thing. Finally after an hour he suggested that maybe Trey needed some help in relaxing. He held out his hand and gave Trey two small pink pills.

“Don’t worry” Raymond whispered. “These won’t hurt you, they are just a relaxant, more like a really mild sleeping pill. Come on son, it will help you relax, and besides, they are like aspirin. You could take 50 and you won’t get hurt.”

Trey meekly swallowed the pills. He washed them down with another beer and he started feeling better. His head didn’t pound so much. His heart wasn’t racing inside his chest. He could feel himself relaxing and Raymond noticed the changes too. Trey wanted to like Raymond, he owed him so much. He just wasn’t expecting to meet someone who was so big and hairy.

Trey felt dizzy. He couldn’t focus his eyes. He felt like was in a fog, everything was so hazy. His mouth felt like it had a whole ream of paper inside it. His tongue felt like it was soaked in clay, and his ears kept ringing.

Trey didn’t understand anything. He was floating somewhere. His eyes couldn’t focus and all he could see was darkness. His body was hurting, specially his ass. He felt like he was being shaken and yet he knew he wasn’t. He was lying down, he knew that, or did he?

His brain drifted but the pain in his ass only got worse. He felt his arms hurt him and his jaw started to ache. He kept seeing an image floating around him. He couldn’t make it out and he wanted to cry out but his mouth was too sore. He felt like it was filled with a huge wad of paper.

Time seemed to be suspended. Trey was scared but he couldn’t feel his own body parts. His arms seemed like they were lead weights and his legs, they were even worse. It felt like he had the weight of a train on top of him. He was cold, he could feel the cold air and he felt like was moving now.

Trey’s head ached, along with every part of his whole body. He kept hearing this voice, calling his name, and now he his eyes could feel this harsh white light. He tried to keep his eyelids closed but the bright light kept intruding. HE was scared and he was in pain. He could hear himself scream as fingers prodded him everywhere, even where they shouldn’t be.

He felt a jab in his arm and the pain started to go away. His mind cleared, the fog was lifting and he could hear the voices now. They were strange but then he heard one he recognized. His heart leaped in his chest, it was Bobby.

Slowly his brain cleared and he could make out the words now. He heard pieces of words, could hear some woman crying, some man that sounded like his Dad roaring blue thunder. Words like “Lucky”, “Common”, “Too Early to say” and then the one word that penetrated his mind and his soul.

“RAPE”

Suddenly he knew. Suddenly the whole thing flooded his brain and his entire body convulsed in horror. He screamed and struggled against the restraints.

As his body fought against the pressure, suddenly he heard Bobby, heard his brother, tears in his voice, softy telling to calm down, telling him that he was here, and with that he opened his eyes, and saw Bobby.

Predators Exist

If you are in trouble, if you need someone to talk to, CHECK THE YELLOW PAGES of your PHONE DIRECTORY for the nearest HELP LINE.

Never Ever MEET someone ALONE or in SECLUDED SPOTS. Always TELL someone whom you are meeting, where you are meeting, and maybe that way you will see TOMORROW!