Bittersweet Goodbyes
#5 of Burnard
Hooray, feels!
So, I'm gonna start with a personal question: do you believe every story should have a happy ending? That good things should stay good, that even the worst of times can always have a silver lining? Or do you believe that, perhaps, a somber end puts into light our reality, and helps us to understand ourselves and the world around us better? Or maybe I'm overthinking it, and you have no opinion of it? I'm happy with whatever answer you may have.
Sorry...I'm getting ahead of myself.
Things were on the up-and-up for quite a while, actually. I was there at Kris' graduation when he was given his diploma straight from the hands of the principal himself (Advanced Honors diploma; I'm so proud of him!) After that, things were pretty quiet. It was a bit of an uneventful summer, if you don't count the days we'd be chilling, fucking, or both. Once school started back up, I was ready and rearing for my Sophomore year, before hitting a bind with my math.
"Hmm, I see where you went wrong with this," Kris would explain to me during one of our study sessions. I guess you could call them 'study' sessions; feels like I was getting more knowledge about reptile anatomy below the waistline than I was with my math. Regardless. he was pretty helpful. "You forgot to divide both sides by 5 to solve for E in this equation."
"Brfif looged wurrd." Did I mention I was giving him a blowjob at the time?
Kris shoved my head off of his knotted cock, shaking his head. "At tut. Don't you know it's impolite to talk with your mouth full?"
I swallowed the pre in my mouth, with a quick lip of the lips. "Sorry 'bout that. But, yeah, it just looked weird."
Kris rolled his eyes. "I told you, Burnard, it ain't always about if the answer looks 'normal,' you'll get some weird solutions when solving for multi-step algebra. Back down you go." He gently pushed me back down, my eyes rolling back slightly as I felt that tip pushing into my throat. I gave an approving little moan, as we continued to study over the material. It would sort of be like that every so often, but most study sessions were otherwise pretty tame in comparison. Me and him would sit down, look it all over, and see where it is I went wrong with the material and try again from the top. He was just as patient with me as I was with him when I helped with his English, and I more than appreciated his return assistance with me.
I suckled along that length with a trained precision. Kris groaned with approval, and patted me softly on my head, grinning toothily. "Good boy.." He glanced up at the TV as he glanced over the mathwork, and groaned; it was a news report.
"No individuals were found dead, but fire rescue teams found two entwined students in the-"
Kris flipped the channel, as I glanced up at him curiously. He looked down, sighing. "Just somethin' depressing, kid. Don't worry about it."
One year became two, two years became three. My time from school year to school year was rather tame. The occasional bully, maybe a person or two being a pest, but I learned just acting like they didn't exist usually made them stop. Coach Rhodes was always around to talk to, when I needed to get something off my chest or just have some polite conversation. Kris would even grab a visitor's pass, and just talk with me during my lunch breaks. There were a few who'd still bug me, but...well...
"Hey, mutt," one of the few human students would say to me on my way down the hallway. He shoved me into the lockers with a metallic 'Thud!' greeting my shoulder. He tugged at my fur, laughing sadistically. "Nice fur, faggot. My dad's got one just like it on the mantle..."
"Please leave me alone," I requested calmly.
"What, am I gonna make you cry?" He yanked at my fur even harder, pulling some out, which made me wince.
"Please, it's more for your own sake," I assured.
"You threatening me? I could break your jaw!"
"That so?"
Kris said, towering ominously behind the mischievous student. The human tensed up, his grip of me loosening, and I slipped away, leaving Kris to pin the troublemaker against the lockers. Kris was doing that thing he always did around those stupid humans; he'd look all ferocious and unstable, his eyes twitching like some wild beast. He even sniffed the guy; quite the nice touch, if you ask me.
"Y'know, I was thinking about starting a hunting collection myself," Kris continued, his voice punctuated with a soft growl. "I bet a human skin would be a nice first addition...wouldn't you agree...?"
I wonder if humans, in general, all have bladder problems, or if that was just Kris' effect on people. Regardless, he got the idea quick, and started running to the classroom door nearby us.
"You know, one of these days, I gotta fight my own battle," I said to Kris softly.
"What? Nah, not when I'm around," Kris countered in a jokey tone. He gripped me around the back of the neck in his arm and rubbed my head. "I'm gonna spoil you rotten 'til you die, kid."
One of the nearby teachers coughed in our general direction; a certain Mr. Bartles. "Mr. Hawford, I do believe you remember the rules about PDA?" Kris rolled his eyes, and let me go. "And please, refrain from frightening my students anymore today; I can smell Orson's trousers from the back..."
Kris and I laughed, as he helped escort me to my 4th block class. Having him around, it felt..good.
But somehow, it just kept getting better. It was Senior year, first semester. We were at his house, the two of us playing Soul Calibur V. I had just got it, and Kris apparently wanted to try out his new console, so it was win-win. This was before I was stupidly-good at the game, so me and him were basically learning as we went.
"How the hell does this guy even work?" Kris would ask me, as we were mirror-matching Mitsurugi. The two of us were getting a feel for his controls, and Kris was trying to figure out his special attacks.
I was precisely looking over the controls to see what did what. Barring that, I decided on the age-old tradition of mashing the buttons until I made shit happen. Shit happened indeed, as I somehow pulled off a 3-move combo into a Brave Edge, and practically obliterated Kris' health bar. I blinked, as dumbfounded as he was. "Uh....like that?"
"Lucky little shit," Kris'd say playfully, smacking me in the back of the head.
"Hey! I can't help you're a noob!" I quipped back.
He'd smack me into a juggle, I'd grapple him a few times; he'd miss with his Critical Edge, I'd leap over his head and Ring Out myself. Neither of us were experts, obviously, but it was a blast all the same. The two of us would tease and laugh at each other, nitpick each other's victories, roll our eyes in our failures; it was awesome.
"'I am a flying boy! So Graceful!'" I'd quip, playing Yoshimitsu, and bouncing around like a lunatic. Kris was irritated because he couldn't hit me and I kept constantly bouncing on him. "'Surely, you're all jealous!'" I was so full of myself, smiling with that shit-eating grin. We were both having a ton of fun.
"You played this before you came here, didn't you?" Kris accused as he lost to me for the 7th match in a row. Kris was never quite as coordinated at games as I was...
"Nope, just a quick learner." We finished up on the training rounds, and took turns at Arcade Mode. Kris kept getting his ass handed to him by Aeon, and tossed the controller down in frustration.
My turn.
I quickly read his movements: his attacks were typically pretty vicious, and had a lot of reach. I kept back, waiting for him to do a vertical attack, then darted behind him and started pummeling him into a juggle. KO. Next round, I immediately started off with a double vertical slash followed by a sparta kick, and Aeon was already in the water. Ring Out. This went on a couple more rounds, getting pummeled by him once, and finally beat him.
"What the fuck!?" Kris was angered that I caught on so quickly.
"Bring your A-game or go home, scrub!" I shouted in playful banter.
Kris growled, and adopted a devious grin. "Oh, I'll show you A-game." He shoved me onto my side, and worked at my clothes rather efficiently. If there was one thing Kris was really good at, even more than mechanics, it was getting you down to your skivvies in record time. I flail around in his grip, as he's unbuckling himself as well. Seemed he was hiding a massive erection that whole time.
"H-hey, that's-that's cheating!"
_ Schlick! _ Down it went.
"A-AAaah!"
Kris was getting into a habit of being more forceful with me. Where he helped to awaken the submissive in me, I had inadvertently helped spark the dominant in him. Already he had one of my legs hiked to the air as he pushed himself into me deeply, my arms quivering to keep a grip on that controller; he wasn't even bothering with the condoms this time! "Quick learner, huh, kid?" His lecherous grin sent cold shivers down my spine with every thrust. "How's your multi-tasking?"
"N-nnff....aahh..." He was certainly making it a bit harder on me; Nightmare's as tough as the tin implies, but having Kris pinning me down made it a war on two fronts. I kept as steady a grip as I could, and went to battle. Nightmare fights fast and nasty, and that reach is horrendous. I had to lure him close with blocks far more often, then beat him to the draw with the grapples. Despite that, he still knocked me off the ledge; first round goes to the AI.
"Aww, someone's off-focus.." Kris' grip got tighter, and his thrusting redoubled. "Hnnngh....the 'quick learner' just...rrf...melts down when he has a dick in his ass, hmm?"
"Sh-shut up, cheater!" My face betrayed my voice, red as a beet. Second round, and I can barely focus. Nightmare is like a fucking train, and ran me over without a second thought. I'm already down 2, and at this rate was gonna lose the third. But with the way Kris had me pinned, there was no way not to have him fucking my ass while Nightmare was fucking my face up. I wasn't one to quit, though! I quickly rush in and viciously slammed against Nightmare's defence. Enough damage, and...defense break! I quickly go into a Brave Edge, juggling him up and kicking him while he's down. Win! Fourth round, same method of attack: fight fast, fight hard. Nightmare's biggest weakness is a lack of attack speed. I made use of that, hitting him and moving out. Rinse, repeat. Win!
"N-not...even..once.." I said in defiance.
"Uuhuh..sure..." I could feel his knot squeezing in; I had to finish this fight before Kris finished me! I rushed it, no chance to wait around now. I quickly worked my way up to a Critical Edge, and danced along the side to lure Nightmare to it. Once I got him to trigger his own Critical Edge, I darted around behind him, and pulled my own off.
Wham! Right off the ledge for the win!
"Y-yes! I won! I..I..yes...y-yes...yes..." I got it in just in time for Kris to start pelting my ass full of cum, as I, myself, coated the side of the couch with my own enthusiasm. Feeling it all settle and stick to my insides in that insidious warmth, it was far different from when we always did it with the condoms. It felt so much better; I don't think I could've gone back to doing it any other way.
Kris would pull me in close, holding himself over me; feeling that toned body above me, that powerful rumbling in his chest reverberating through me. Have you ever been in a place where you're spending time with a person that you really respect, but at the same time fear? It's kind of like that, although..I don't quite know why I was ever afraid of him. Maybe for the same reasons everyone was; he's big, menacing, and can just as easily cave your head in with a socket wrench as he can use it to fix your car.
"Rrrrr..." I could hear that possessive growling again, vibrating me; soothing, yet commanding. "That's good...I think I won too..."
"But...didn't you-" I started off, oblivious. Kris quickly put a finger to my lips, and what he meant finally struck with me. I smiled.
Things were great. Better than I expected. Better than I deserved.
I'm wondering if you've ever had a time in your life when you were absolutely shocked beyond words or expression; when something happened that left you completely unable to comprehend it. Well...
I was at my home, as per typical. I was talking some of my friends into buying Magicka so we could be fancy little magic wizards, blowing monsters - and each other - to bits. Darby and Cole were fiddling around in the hallway, until Hanna asked them to knock it off. Mom was home, for once, from her business job, and was with Katie, trying to teach her how to use the stovetop. Dad was someplace else...as usual.
We all heard a ringing at the door. Given everyone else was a bit more occupied than I was, I kept a quick BRBbefore heading to the door to check on who it was. Usually, when I answer the door, I expect it to be one of several people: Kris, ready to whisk me off to some whirlwind adventure -- or his bedroom, either is applicable; the mailman, since our mailbox lid is a bit rusty, and he sometimes doesn't want to bother with trying to get it open; or a random passing college hopeful, pedaling an issue of the latest magazine talking to people about all that good, religious wholesomeness my mother eats up.
But, opening the door,
"Hey, bro."
it was none of the above.
Lyle. It was fucking Lyle. His sentence should've been for another year!I simply just stood there, at the door, half-scowling and in shock. I was attempting to form words with my mouth - specifically 'Fuck off! You're not welcome here!' - but nothing but confused mumbling came out of my throat.
"So, are you gonna let me in?" He asked me with a strangely-earnest smile.
"Wh...why..are you here?" I finally blurted out.
"Oh. Oh.." Lyle rubbed the back of his head, looking ashamed. "See, they let me out on parole, due to good behavior."
"Y-you!? Good behavior?!" I looked only slightly amused by that reply.
"Come on, man, just let me in," he pleaded.
It was then I fully regained my composure. "I'll be damned if I ever-"
"Burnie! Burnie, is that Lyle at the door!?" Cole would shout over my shoulder. He practically shoved me out the doorway just to see; seemed he was a lot happier for Lyle's arrival than I was. "Big bro, you're back!"
"That I am. How've you been, tike?" He patted Cole on the back and walked in with him.
I was beyond furious, but too stupefied to say anything about it. My family just...welcomed him back in, as if it weren't even a problem; as if he'd done nothing wrong. I saw them just huddled around in the living room, talking to him, asking him shit.
"When I was in there, I realized that prison was a big reality check," I heard him say to everyone. Hanna was probably the only person besides me that kept a skeptic expression during his spiel of bullshit. "I thought to myself 'I could change it around, if I put some effort in.' And I did."
"It's good to have you back, Lyle," my mother said to him. "I'm glad you've learned your lesson."
Hanna saw it on my face: pure anger. It was everything she could do to stop me from leaping over the couch and decking Lyle. "Burnie. It's not worth it," she whispered to me.
"Hanna, walk away," I threatened with a growl to my voice. This certainly wasn't like me; then again, I had my reasons why.
"Burnie-"
"Walk. Away."
She did as I asked, surprisingly. I'm not sure if she understood why I'd want to do it, or was too terrified to stop me, but she let me go. I walked up and put my foot on the coffee table, standing in the middle of everyone.
"You've got a lot of fucking nerve showing back up here, Lyle," I said in an obviously-pissed-off tone.
Lyle's ears folded back. "Look, Burnie, I know that you-"
"You think you can just walk back in here, like nothing happened," I continued. "like nothing's wrong. No, you're just going to act like everything's fine, aren't you?"
"Burnie, don't do this," Hanna warned in concern.
I ignored Hanna. "Years of abuse: physical, emotional, every other '-al' in the book. You just come back, and believe this nice guy shit makes it all okay." I shoved the coffee table to the wall with my foot, and stamped against the tile. "Well, let me tell you something, asshole: it doesn't! It never will!"
"Burnard, please calm down," mom said.
"You know what?! No! I will not calm down!" I was making an ass of myself, but I didn't care; this was years of frustration coming out in one huge burst. "It's always me that has to get over shit, it's always me _that has to settle, _me that's had to turn the other cheek!" I pointed to Lyle, with a fury dancing in my eyes. "Everything was just fine when you fucking left! I'm done hiding from you, Lyle! I'm not going back to that!"
"Burnie, he's our brother!" Cole shouted.
"He's not my fucking brother! Not after what happened! You _all _know what he did to me! And you're all just going to ignore it?!"
"Come on, Burns," Darby pleaded, "you can't just hold a grudge like tha-"
"HE RAPED ME! HE FUCKING RAPED ME! DON'T TELL ME IT'S OKAY!"
Everyone was silent, in stunned shock. It was like a transition of emotions, passing off my own bewilderment of the situation to everyone around me. Darby, Cole, Katie, Lyle, Hanna, even mom..they all just stared at me. In a way, I was the same way. I couldn't believe I had said any of that; it felt like a rite of passage, like I finally found a courage that eluded me for so long. It was a short-lived feeling, though; in the middle of that silence, I felt encased. Trapped. Alone. Like I was looking at monsters that couldn't understand a word I say, always staring at me. Judging me. Finding me wanting. It was enough to nearly shatter me.
"Burnard," Lyle started, breaking the silence.
I was beginning to cry. "J-just leave me alone."
He stood up, and he walked towards me. I walked back to distance myself from him, but he put a hand on my shoulder. I tried to swat it away, but he was insistant. "Burnard, you need to listen. Please. Just for a minute, okay? And when I'm done, you don't ever have to talk to me again."
I blinked away tears, sniffling. "Alright...make it quick."
Lyle's eyes. I can't forget them; that sincerity. I didn't want to believe it; I still don't. I didn't want to think about someone having some something so terrible to me having actually turned a leaf. He stared at me - no, through me - and kept talking. "I've done some shitty things, I know that. And there's nothing I can say that makes it any better. I could try and tell you how I've changed, and how I want to do better by you. But I already know, now, you would never accept that. All I want to say, Burnard, is that...you make me proud."
That exchange of emotions happened again; this time, it was my turn to be left in stunned shock. "Wh-what...?"
"I was a terrible fucking person. I was vain, selfish, and I lorded my successes over you. My time in jail, I kept thinking about it. 'What did I accomplish?' 'What was I even trying to do?' It just ate at me, and ate at me, until I figured out what I should've known from the start: something's gotta give. Something has to change. And that something has to start with me." He looked me up and down. "Look at you, Burnard. Even after what I did...here you are." He half-smiled at me, those eyes still scanning me, appraising me. "You were brave enough to say something. You stood your ground. You're different from before, Burnie, but..in a good way. You didn't let what I did dictate you."
"But...b-but..."
"Burnard, even if you don't call me your brother," Lyle said as he wrapped his arms around me, "I'm proud to call you mine." He pulled me into a hug, and all at once, I just...I broke down. I was crying into him, sobbing and clinging to him like a scared pup. I was angry, and sad, and happy, and confused, all at the same time. He took me so seriously, and treated me like someone worth giving a damn about. It never crossed my mind once that it could've been an act; not even he could be that convincing of a liar. I held onto him for dear life.
"I'm sorry....I'm so, so sorry..."
"Hey, hey, don't be...just relax..." Lyle ruffled my hair gently. He held me tight, gently patting me on the back. "Let it on out." For a moment...it almost felt like being with Kris. Just standing there, accepting his presence, happy that he's even there. I hadn't realized it at first, but our mother had walked over to us, and she curled in close.
"Shh...it's going to be okay, sweetie." My mother wasn't always there for me, but when she was, that reassuring tone always got to me.
It felt like one of those sappy Lifetime movies that never seemed realistic; everybody was just joining in for a big hug, and it felt...right. For once, there was no indifference, no dysfunction, it was just me and my family.
Me and my family...
Kris was given the big news, and his first reaction was a lot like _my _first reaction:
"That asshole?"
It took me a minute to try and explain the situation, but it looked like Kris was quick to understand the levity; 'If you're okay with it, so am I,' he basically said.
Things were...different. With Lyle back, everyone was feeling a little better. He helped around the house, he and Hanna would have the occasional quip-off, and I'd even invite him in to play a game or two and just hang out. Even when dad got home, he'd look a bit more sober; he and mom would talk more, and be more cordial.It really did feel like nothing and everything happened at the exact same time. Hell, it was probably the closest my family ever felt like...well, a family. I couldn't complain, really.
Kris was getting more comfy with hisnew job: he was a work-at-home mechanic for some big auto-assembly company. Give him anything, and he'll probably make it into a car somehow. He always was happy to talk to me about it whenever we had a moment together. "I can stop begging my old man for money," he'd always tell me. "I can start doing shit for myself."
The year breezed by without me even realizing it. Time flies when you're having fun, I guess. Everything felt so Disney-eque; there wasn't a problem I could think of, things were all just so..perfect.
Too perfect.
Before I knew it, my birthday was just tomorrow. I was at Kris' house, watching some TV with him. We were shooting the shit about his job, my family, anything that came to mind.
"So, what do you think you're gonna do, once you graduate?" Kris asked me.
"Well, to be honest?" I flopped my head into Kris' lap. "I really don't know. I haven't given much thought about it."
"Then now's a better time to start thinking about it than any." He flicks channels around to that weird channel that shows TV screensavers all day and night. It was a fireplace, at the time, with the noises of fire crackling coming from the speakers. Being a doof, Kris holds his hands towards the TV like he's warming them. "Mmm, toasty."
"Ahhahaah!" I satup and did the same, playing along with my goofy not-exactly-boyfriend. Kris leaned around as I did so, and conked me in the head with a wrapped box.
"Happy early birthday gift, you silly mutt."
"Aww, thanks!" I shook the box a little, and didn't hear much; a soft thud back and forth, nothing too hard. I then looked over the wrapping, noting the impressive detail. "Wow, how'd you learn to wrap gifts like this, Kris?"
"I didn't, I sorta got the store people to do it for me," Kris admitted shamelessly.
I opened it up, looking inside, and the gift was odd: arm and leg warmers, and a little pink ribbon. Nothing else. "Huh?"
"Don't be shy, try it on," Kris insisted with a devious grin.
"Y-you're kidding, right?" I asked him nervously.
"Does this look like I'm laughing?" Kris countered flatly.
"Come on, you can't expect me to wear that." If you were to ask me now, yeah, I'd absolutely wear it. But Kris was shoving me headlong into the concept a bit faster than I was comfortable with at the time.
Didn't stop him from trying, though. "Oh, don't be like that." He reached a hand around to me, gently rubbing my shoulder, down my back. "Just think about it: dressing up for me. How adorable you'd be bouncing on my lap. Feeling my body against yours. Your cute little moans as I do things to you," he punctuated with a scraping claw over the nape of my neck, "and make you beg for more."
"F-fuck, Kris." He was getting more into a habit of coercing me into things; I wasn't uncomfortable with it, but he'd talk me into stuff I wouldn't normally do. I'd turn out to like it, of course, but that's beside the point. I was failing desperately at hiding the bulge in my jeans. "I told you, I'm not wearing it..."
"C'mon, kid. Think of it as an early birthday party: you, me, and that cute getup." Kris' hand glided up to behind my head, gently pulling me in. "I won't tell," he whispered into my ear, before biting at it possessively.
I recoiled away defensively. "F-fine, alright, you-you win!" I snatched the 'clothing' up from the box, and started unbuttoning my shirt. "If I was any harder right now, I'd be a steel girder!"
It took a bit more effort than usual; Kris was always good at getting me hot and bothered, to the point it was hard to just get my blue button-up off of me because of how sweaty I was getting. Nevertheless, I was down to my briefs, and Kris whistled at me. "And here I thought, you said you liked boxers more."
"I wear both, sh-shut up," I replied with an awkward blush.
"I wonder how quick I'll be getting you into panties, hmm?" Kris teased.
"D-damnit, Kris, I said shut up!" I reared up a mock fist at him.
"Uh oh, he's gonna hit me with his dainty little hands!" Kris waved his arms around in exaggerated motions, before I hit him in the forearm and he quit. "Well fuck...that actually hurt."
"Are you gonna help me with these, or not?" I asked, flustered.
Kris took an arm warmer and helped pull it onto my left arm. "Oh, yeah-yeah, one second." Before I knew it, my arms and legs were covered in the odd, silk garments, and feeling him wrap that ribbon tight around my pencil of an erection. "There we go. How d'you feel?"
"I've got a fuzzy feeling in my gut," I admitted, my blush even deeper once I saw myself. I kept thinking over how right Kris was: I looked really cute! Kris kept staring at me like he hadn't eaten in a week, and like I was a prime-rib steak.
"Mmm...." Kris pulled me in, his claws gripping tightly against my furred thighs; while I was fiddling with my clothes, his cargo pants were already unbuckled, that familiar dick greeting my pliant hole as he held me above him. He sniffed me, growling. "You really are a cock slut, aren't you?"
"N-No.." I answered noncommittally.
"Heh." He pulled my legs back, gripping them around his arms and stretching them out. I could see the bottom of my feet raise up above my head; I didn't even know I was that limber. He held me there, like that, gripping the thigh of my left leg while wrapping his arm around my right leg, reaching his hand down to thumb at the tip of my cock. I stiffened up, gasping, that clawed digit pressing against such a sensitive spot never ceasing to keep me painfully aroused and even more painfully erect. Kris growled against my ear, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "Can't fool me, kid; I know exactly what you want."
"I-I'm almost an adult, Kris!" I whined defensively. "S-stop calling me a kid!"
"Oh?" Kris gripped me tighter, chuckling. "Adults have to think for themselves. Adults have to do all their own stuff. You don't like that, do you?" He was wearing down my head, playing mindgames with me. I was almost inclined to agree with him.
"I-"
"No, I don't think you do," Kris continued, cutting me off. "You shouldn't have to worry your pretty little head like that. Let me do all the thinking for you..." He was holding me up just above his crotch the entire time; either I was lighter than I thought, or he was stronger than I thought. He not-so-slowly eased me onto his erect member -- I was already quite prepared for him. That pre-slicked tip began to shove in insistingly, and it was everything I could to stifle back a moan. "Thaaat's it," Kris encouraged, his grip on me as firm as ever, "just relax, let it in deep."
"Nnnf...." I loved the way he was both forceful and gentle with me, that strange mix easing me into a state of carefree bliss. I rested my head back against his chest, feeling the scales along it ripple as he pushed himself into my eager hole. Slowly, he would press his thumb into the little bead of nerves at the end of my dick, rubbing back and forth along it, making certain to catch his claw along it to keep me on my toes.
"Relax a little, kid," Kris said as he pushed another inch in. "It's not like you've got anything to hide from me.."
"Aaah!" His tip pressed against a rough patch in my sphincter, sending a familiar pleasure bolting through me. "NNngh...K-Kris..."
"Burnard..." He bounced me up in his lap, beginning to make a pace for himself. Slow, strong bucks upward, rolling his ridged cock through me instead of thrusting it. "Do you love me?" He asked calmly.
"Y-yes, so much.." I answered without hesitation.
"And do you love when I fuck you?" He followed up with a devious smile.
"More..hgh...more than anything!" I cried out, pre beading at the tip of my dick.
Kris nuzzled in close, his breath rushing down over my chest. He made me feel special; wanted. Like I was the most important thing to him. My answers seemed to spur him on, too. He wasn't just fucking me: he was making love to me. His cock rubbed and squelched against my insides in the most delicious ways. It made me want more...so much more. I wanted everything of him. I wanted his lips, I wanted his cum, I wanted all his love could bring me.
"More...give me m-more..." I whimpered.
Kris immediately picked up the pace when I pleaded this; his love-making quickly turned into a proper rutting, his thrusts gaining speed and force until I was bobbing up and down on his lap like the slut I was. I wouldn't admit it, but he already knew: the feeling of his cock was divine.
"Who's a good bitch?" Kris grunted into my ear, letting his instincts take hold.
I was moaning and panting desperately, my well-trained ass squeezing tightly against him. "I am! I'm your bitch! Aaah! Oaah!" I cried out, my voice cracking in an effeminate manner.
We were both manic; the two of us, mating furiously, my head leaning back to sloppily kiss at his lips. He returned the kiss, the two of us looking each other in the eyes as he did so. Kris broke the kiss to lean his neck downwards, his teeth sinking against the tender skin of my neck. Something in me gave way finally. I couldn't take the sensations my body was experiencing anymore, and I hit my climax like a brick wall. Jets of cum jettisoned through the air, Kris making sure to aim it directly at my face. I didn't care, though: the feeling of cum across my tongue made me feel hot, and urged me to cum even more.
"You are..just..the best..rrrnngh..." Kris was holding out as long as he could; seemed he wanted to ride out this moment while it lasted. Another couple minutes of nothing but the smell of fucking and my own cum across my snout, and his climax arrived. He slammed me down against his knot, making me hit my second wind right then and there, and began to flood my slutty ass with his seed. I felt like a girl, for a moment: dressed up pretty, getting fucked by the hottest guy I know. It felt...good. Incredible, honestly.
"Mmmooooore!" I cried out, tongue flopping to the side as I threw my head back into a wordless moan.
"Insatiable..." It was all he said, but he obliged my needs. He let out even more jets of reptilian spunk into my eager form, coating to my walls and claiming me as his. And I wouldn't have had it any other way.
I ended up spending another night at his house. It was almost coming to a point where I was more familiar with his bed than my own. I wouldn't say I'm complaining, of course: if there were anyone I'd have wanted most to give me company, it would've been Kris.
Waking up under Kris' sheets started to feel as comfortable as any morning ritual of mine. I got up, my joints feeling like they're on fire, and Kris would help me get dressed. It didn't take too long, surprisingly; Kris bought one of those, uh...things that help clean out your butt, I forget the name of it. Anyway, he made me use that, and, as weird as it was, it definitely beat going home with cum leaking out of me.
Speaking of going home, everyone was..kind of quiet. It being my birthday, it was always sort of expected: we were never big on making parties for everybody, and it seemed like birthdays, in general, our family just didn't give a shit about. Back in the day, mine was definitely not given a shit about. But, well, I dunno; I was maybe hoping, with how my family was changing, there'd be something in store for me. Suppose I was wrong.
Getting ready wasn't hard; Lyle, of all people, had breakfast ready for me when I got back. For someone who was in the slammer for so long, he was damn good at cooking eggs. I was happy to see him, for once. We made small talk, and that was about it; Kris brought me to the school immediately after.
"So, you're finally 18, Burns," Kris mentioned to me on the ride over. "What now?"
"I'm...not sure, actually." I propped my head against my palm, looking out the window at the school campus as he drove in.
"Nothing? No aspirations?" Kris pried further."
"None I can think of off the top of my head," I replied. "Astronaut, I guess?"
"Burnard, I'm serious." Kris' expression proved it, too: he was scowling at me as he parked up at the front. "This is the rest of your life we're talking about. You gotta figure out what you're going to do. You have to make some tough decisions for yourself."
"I-I know, I just..."
"Burnie, I care about you too much to not get a proper answer." Kris was adamant about pushing me on this.
"Well....I think I-"
Bwooooooop!
"Fuck! That's the early bell!" I grabbed my bookbag and started running, not thinking much of the conversation.
"Burnard? Burnie! Don't just run from me!"
Perhaps if I knew this would be the last I talked to Kris, I'd have given him an answer before running off...
Entering the cafeteria, I should've known from the very start something was off about things. It was crowded with the early birds, as it typically was, with people who skipped out at breakfast at home eating there at the school. That wasn't what the problem was; as soon as I entered in, a lot of the voices I heard died down a little. Topics changed, sentences cut off abruptly for seemingly no reason, and heads started to turn towards...me, of all people. scowls, grins, and indifferent expressions abound
Why are they all looking at me like that?
I didn't think much of it, at first. I went to try and find a seat with some of them. some students would scoot together very close, or even change tables, just to keep me from sitting with them. Others, like a group of dudes at one of the end tables, would go out of their way just to make me a spot to sit at, with those mischievous grins that made me feel suspicious of sitting with them. Maybe they heard about my birthday? I thought at first.
Then, I heard a phone near me as I walked by one of the tables. It was a video, but what made me stop in my tracks were the voices I heard from it.
'More...give me m-more...'
I froze in place.
'Who's a good bitch?'
No.
'I am! I'm your bitch!'
No no no no no NO NO NO NO-
My brain, in that instant, crashed. My fears, doubts, and worries, things that I kept on a backburner for so long, started to not only creep back up to me, but they were eating me alive. All at once, I could feel everyone's eyes, their stares crawling down my body, stripping me down until I was nothing more than a defenseless pup. I was being primed for the slaughter, just with all those judgemental eyes. They all knew. They knew who I was. They knew what I was.
"What's wrong, fag? Forgot how to use your legs?" One of the students called out.
"He can't walk and think about dick at the same time," a girl next to him added.
It was like being surrounded by cannibals. Their eyes tearing and rending skin, ripping me apart and eating at the gristle on my bones. I didn't know what to do; eyes were staring at me from all around. I felt defenseless, too frozen by my own fears to be able to move. Those laughs. O-oh god, the laughing..it echoed through my head. They were mocking me. And I was letting them. I couldn't bring myself to stop it, something deep and primal paralyzing me to my core.
"What a pussy." "I bet he sucks off his teachers for a better grade!"
I wanted to run. At first, I was about to; slowly I was walking towards the exit doors, arms folded into my chest, fearing for the implications. Some of the students got up, though; they weren't finished with me. I got shoved back from the door, the lot of them circling me, like vultures eying their kill. "L-let me go.." I pleaded.
"How's about you gimme a big kiss first, right here?" The one who pushed me, a well-toned girl, said to me, leaning her face out. I stepped back, hesitant for obvious reasons. I ended up backing into yet another student, who held me in place. "Come on, you fucking slut, do it." The girl almost seemed annoyed that I didn't want to cave into her demand. I then felt the wind knocked out of me, as her hand curled into a fist and dropped hard against my gut. "Do it!"
"S-" I could hardly breathe, desperate to say something, before she hit me once again. The other students circled around me started to grope, spit, and laugh at me. Some of the other students began to grow worried; name-calling was one thing, attacking another student was something different. I heard people - students, even some faculty - all trying to shove their way in, but the crowd was too dense. Every time I went to speak, I could feel my gut caving in. Whether it was to plead their mercy, or call for help, I was kept silent by those constant blows to the stomach. I was fit to break; it just kept building, and building, until-
I snapped.
It was this potent mix of anger, fear, and desperation that spurred me. I elbowed the student in the ribs that was holding me back, and hit the girl clean in her jaw. I wasn't quite sure what kind of damage I did to her doing so, but I can almost-fondly remember that piercing sound of bone cracking as my hand connected with her face. If the way she held it was any indication, I think I may have dislocated her jaw. I wasn't done yet, though. I swung off on whoever was closest to me; kicked one guy in the nuts, another in the kneecap; punched one dude in the throat, blacked another one's eye. People were trying to constrain me, but I was like a lit fuse, my emotions exploding out on anyone who got caught in my range.
Then I heard a whistle.
"That will be quite enough!"
Coach Rhodes finally stepped in. His whistle pierced all the shouting and commotion that sparked. Everyone, all at once, dropped to whispers. Students in the school either respected or feared Rhodes, and depending on how much he has to deal with you, you might find yourself on either side of that coin as well. In that haze of rage, I heard it myself; it was like a flipped switch, the adrenaline venting out of me and leaving me again as a miserable wreck. I dropped to my knees, crying like a confused child. Rhodes walked over to me and helped me up. "Come on, Hayes. My office. Now." He was strict yet comforting in the tone he took with me; I honestly wasn't sure how to react to it. I got up and he propped his arms around me.
"As for the rest of you," he continued, glaring at the fallen students, "those who need first aid, go speak to the nurses. And then report to the assistant principal to discuss your suspensions." He stared intently at the girl, specifically. "And you all know exactly who I'm referring to."
Students were breaking for class even as the fight broke out, and they started moving in droves after Rhodes and faculty cleared the cafeteria. Some discarded trays and spilled food was cleaned up afterward, and I was escorted over to the front office.
How.
It was all that my head could focus on. That one word, swirling around in my brain, buzzing at my emotions like an annoying fly I just couldn't swat away. I was in the front office, in Mr. Rhodes' counselor room; it was a lot blander - I guess the word 'professional' applies here - than his office in the P.E. building. A few PhD's, and even a major in psychology. What was a psychology major doing coaching high school sports teams? Of course, that wasn't what was on my mind, at the time.
How..
I could hear students and staff conversing with one another outside the doors, talking about important school shit, I guess: missed appointments, parent concerns, contact information, event scheduling, all that lovely stuff. In the room over, I heard the assistant principals chewing out the other students. There was a line of students, actually, that stretched to just behind the door to Rhodes' room; I could feel the eyes of a couple of them staring at me as I remained in the chair, contemplating what had happened.
How...
It kept coming back. That singular word. That singular thought. It wasn't without warrant, though: how did that video even get made? How did everyone in the school get their hands on it? How would my family react when they find out? How would Kris treat me now that people knew? How likely was it that I'd even see him anymore? Hundreds of questions, assaulting my thoughts, all stemmed from that one word:
How....
Coach Rhodes - I guess, right now, Mr. Rhodes - stepped back into the office, carrying some papers and his phone. I could hear the video on it, to which he paused it and sighed. "Burnard, I talked with the principal and the other counselors." He stopped for a moment, perhaps to see if I had any questions. Realizing I was zoned out, he leaned over and gently tapped me on the shoulder. "Hayes, focus! Don't blink out on me." I snapped back to reality when he said that, and he continued. "I spoke with Principal Gartner. He wanted to suspend you over what happened in the cafeteria."
"Wh-what!? Me?!" I cried out.
"You attacked 9 students." To this day, I still think Rhodes was embellishing that number. "Regardless of their involvement or what they did, that sort of violence is against school board policy."
"But that's bullshit! I was defending myself!" I countered.
"I know...so that's why I convinced him otherwise." The komodo patted me on the back, smiling. "Burnie, you're a good kid. I know you wouldn't have done what you did without reason. But Gartner says you're on thin ice." His expression grew worried. "And with that, uh...home video of yours circulating-"
"It's not mine," I answered bluntly.
"You don't have to convince me." He sat back against his chair. I could see he was trying to think over the situation, try to find a way to phrase himself. "Listen, you're not the first student I've dealt with that's suffered this kind of problem. I don't know what it is that you and Hawford...have with one another, and I do not plan to judge you for it. But I will have to ask that you keep your head low, so as not to upset the other students."
"'Upset the other students?'" I repeated, offended. "What are you trying to imply?"
"Nothing, Burnard. You should be proud of what you are, I would never-"
"And just what am I?"
"...I...beg your pardon?" It appeared as though my question threw him off-guard.
"What. Am I, Eugene." I repeated, punctuating his name the most.
"Y-you're a student, just like the rest. Your situation is very delicate, and-"
"You are judging me," I accused.
"N-no, you misinterpret me!" Mr. Rhodes was sweating under the collar. "This is just an awkward problem, and I'm sure if you just relax-"
"Relax? Relax?" I planted my hands against his desk, standing up. "I was nearly beat to death, made to feel like garbage, and you want me to RELAX? You want me to feel PROUD of what the fuck just happened!?"
"I know what you ordained, but-"
"But nothing!" I growled in a low, menacing manner. "I'm sick of getting swept to the side, and people pretending my problems will just go away if I ignore them! I thought you could understand that, coach."
"Just let me speak, Burnard, I-"
"Save it. You're just like the rest of them." I was being needlessly cruel to him, but I'd say my anger was justified; the way he talked to me reminded me far too much of how my family always dealt with problems. I knew he just wanted to help...but he had a pretty bad way of showing it. I got up from my chair, and turned for the door.
"Where are you going?" He asked.
"Class." I got up for the door, him never having left his seat.
"We're not done discussing this, Burna-"
_Ker- CHUNK! _
I shut the door firmly behind me, collecting the attention of those around me as I did so. Faculty simply looked at me for a second, then continued to their duties; those in the line, the ones I hurt earlier, however, they glared at me as if killing me was the one thing on their mind. I moved to leave, and one of them attempted to trip me; I growled at him, stamping at his foot, smiling as I saw him recoil. Strangely, Eugene wasn't following after me, oddly enough. I suppose he believed I would come to terms with this on my own time. If only he knew.
Attempting to get through the school day was...it was hell. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, it was fucking horrible. Everyone at school had figured it out by now, and there was no way of avoiding everybody. A couple teachers that sympathized with me helped lead me to my classes; some, whom respected me, wouldn't even look at me anymore. It was like so many people turned against me, all because of what made me feel comfortable. Who were they to judge? There'd be no doubt, many of them had their own skeletons in the closet, and yet they'd ridicule me for my own. Then again, they weren't stupid enough that everyone discovered theirs.
Long and the short, I skated the day through to P.E; strangely enough, _the only _class on my schedule where it seemed like everyone just wasn't paying me any attention! It was for the best, anyway; I had endured so much bullshit through the day, I was at the verge of cracking; just sitting down and crying, and just thinking about how to off myself. I was feeling just like that, hiding behind the bush near the court where everyone was playing. For a moment, I thought everything was over: I'd never see Kris again, my family wouldn't accept me, and I'd be allowing myself to be abused every goddamn day.
But, I took a step back. I gave it some severe thought. I'm 18 years old, I told myself. I need to start acting the part. I need to think about this. Finding a moment a clarity, I contemplated the whole situation. It wasn't an easy thing to think about. But I knew I had to. I could hear Kris' voice in my head:
'You have to make some tough decisions for yourself.'
I didn't think about it too deeply, before, but I realized that I couldn't get away with avoiding the hard choices anymore. It was obvious I had to figure out something. But...what, exactly?
I could've followed Rhodes' advice, and just laid low. How, I wasn't sure. Maybe take a few 'sick days,' mellow things out with my family. That is, if my family even was okay with this. The point was, I didn't know; all this uncertainty, it was fucking with my perception and my decision-making. The same question loomed in my head: Would my family accept me for this? And if they didn't...what would happen then?
I could've lived with Kris. I mean, being 18, my family couldn't force me back. Take up a job, help hold my weight, and maybe Kris would be okay with me moving in. But, again, with the uncertainty, I kept thinking about how he'd react: we were never public about this, with anyone. Even his friends. So how would he treat me now that everybody knows? Would he protect me? Would he shun me? All I know is that, with him, I'd be safe...but, too safe. So safe, I..I wouldn't be making my own decisions, like he said I should. He respected me as a person a lot, he really did, but he was far too possessive about me. He'd make certain I would want for nothing...but I'd never get the chance to be my own person.
Then, of course, was the alternative. The easy way out. I never thought I'd actually contemplate it, as if it were a viable option.But all this abuse, this torment, I just didn't deserve it! A part of me couldn't understand why this was all happening to me...the same part of me that kept whispering. Just end it. You won't have to worry about it anymore. You deserve better than this. For a moment, I almost listened to it. For a moment... No, I thought to myself. I'm not quitting over this.
I had my options now. Accept things as they were, beg Kris to keep me..or kill myself.
...
Or.
I could run away, I could get away from this, and not have to be subjected to this kind of abuse, from anyone, anymore. I could finally start making my own decisions, as my own person. I could finally make the tough calls, all by myself, and start over in a place where I'm a stranger to everyone. It would be terrifying, maybe an impossible goal to hope for. I'd stumble. I'd fall. I'd be at my lowest point, with nothing but a handful of dollars in my pocket and sheer will to do better by myself; by everybody. And best of all, I'd do it on my own terms. I'd find a way to live better, and I'd still be me doing so. It would be hard; I wouldn't have anyone to fall back on, not at first. But, something in me kept screaming; this confident fire, bubbling around, shouting to me that..yes. I could do this. I'd make this work somehow.
The coaches were corralling everybody back inside the P.E. building. I was looking through the bushes; it was do or die time. At that moment in time, I needed to make a decision that affected the rest of my life.
Well...I wouldn't be here if I went in with them, now would I?
Within hindsight, the decision wasn't easy, or even smart. It was even a bit selfish; I hadn't thought over whether my family would miss me or not. Or...Kris, for that matter. But with every doubt, I kept swatting it down. I had to do this for myself. No way around it. I skimmed through the trees and forest brush that lined the far sides of the school's campus, I worked my way towards the roads. Soon enough, I was on the road coming off the turn into the school itself. I didn't stop to look back at it; not like I had any good memories of it to dwell on.
I knew a few of the bus routes around town, for those none-too-rare times back when Lyle just didn't give a shit enough to drive me home. Ah, memories. Anyway, I found a stop near one of the local service stations, and sat there for some time. I stuffed my school hoodie into my bookbag; best nobody figure out I'm playing permanent hooky, right? Eventually, a charter bus did stop there, and, with a moment's hesitation, I stepped inside. I put some money in the box, and took the front seat.
"Welcome on," the middle-aged woman driving said to me. "Where are you headed?"
"Where's the furthest this route goes?" I asked.
"Well, we have stops around the bridge, and over towards the next city over."
"Good, take me there," I answered immediately.
The woman looked surprised at my sudden request, but however smiled. "That's quite a ways to head out on your lonesome," she added, shutting the bus doors. "Any reasons why?"
The more I look back on it, the more I realized the sort of impact that decision made on me. Sitting down, talking about it now, it gave me hindsight that I never quite measured before. I still didn't know how that video got around. I still didn't know what my parents would've done. I still didn't know if Kris would've defended me. All of it feels like a lifetime ago...and thinking about it, I wonder how things might have gone, had I chosen differently.
But, at some point, we all have our choices. We may not like them, we may even be terrified of them. But no matter what, we should never be ashamed of them, either.I know that I can never take back what I did that day. Some will say I ran from my problems. They're probably right. But I would rather believe that I, instead, left those problems behind, grew beyond them, like any mature adult should. It's not like I had many good options.
If I didn't, I'd never have the opportunities I have now; I'd never come to know all these awesome people, that I now call friends; I'd have never escaped the shadow of fear in my life that I absolutely craved an out from. At the end of the day, I live by the choices that define me: I'm a stupid, crazy manchild, gay as a 3-dollar bill, that took a fool's bet at giving up everything for a chance at something better. I have my regrets, we all do. But this? I'd never take it back for the world.
"I don't know. I guess I'll find out when I get there."
In the end...I'd say it was worth it.