Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, places or events is unintentional.
Author's notes:
-
there is a continuity error in Chapter VII in the sections subtitled "Bury the Truth" & "All for One and One For All." Quinn's name is used instead of Chris. Quinn's name is still used for Quinn. For clarity, Henry's dad confessed to Chris's father (Sebastian) nearly 20 years ago and Chris was injured in a car accident.
-
yes, I know catholic priests (Sebastian) are not meant to get married or have children; obviously they would never commit sexual indiscretions or violate sacred dogma.
Nightmares on Fig Leaf Street Chapter VIII
REHAB
DAY SIX (cont.)
"Just walk to the end of the corridor."
Chris was unsteady on his feet but he had been hurt in the car accident and recovering from that would take time. He was in pain and limped slightly during his first steps.
He hoped he'd recover fast.
And that it wouldn't affect his swimming.
"Ok, that's great."
Chris leaned against the wall and looked back the way he'd come. The corridor seemed to stretch.
"Ok, Chris. You did great."
Chris looked at the handsome Physiotherapist. He was in his mid-twenties with brown eyes, coiffed hair and a short stubbly beard.
Chris felt very exposed in the corridor because he was only wearing a hospital gown and his underwear. He was even barefoot which didn't seem like safe moving and handling practice for a physio.
"I want you to walk back to the ward."
They were in one of the main hospital corridors that intersected multiple wards and departments within the medical block.
"Ok," Chris replied.
"But I noticed you limped a bit. And your gait is hard to see with your gown in the way so I want you to take it off."
"Take... take my gown off?" Chris said in a fearful voice. "Out here?"
"Sure thing. It'll be fine."
"I'll be practically naked," Chris said in a low voice.
"Even better."
Chris blushed. Was the hot physio flirting with him?
"Here, let me help you."
The stunningly beautiful physio unfastened the gown and slipped it off Chris's body until the teenager was left standing barefoot in the hospital corridor in nothing but briefs.
Briefs?
Quin looked at himself – he had bruises, scratches and abrasions on his left shoulder, his chest and abdomen and both legs.
Why was he wearing briefs? The pattern was not unlike the hospital gown.
The swimming trunks were patterned like the gown had been; the gown was now over the physiotherapist's arm. The trunks were white with dark blue squircles that were white in the centre except for a single dark blue dot.
Wait... Was Chris wearing briefs or speedo?
"You look great."
Chris blushed and looked at his flawless skin, not a single mark to blemish it, as he shuffled on bare feet.
"Ok, just walk to the other end of the corridor."
As he walked, he got more and more attention. Chris never minded people looking at him at the pool – it was a normal thing to get attention for when he was swimming or diving. But the attention as he walked down the hospital corridor in nothing but silly briefs was not normal.
Chris felt like this was... not... normal... it was like a nightmare.
This thought tugged its way to the surface of his mind.
"Wow. Nice butt!"
"Lol. Don't say things like that. Wow, that is a nice butt."
The attention of two Patient Care Technicians named John and Bill was flattering but embarrassing.
"Do you shave your legs?"
"What?" Chris turned to look at the gorgeous physio. "Oh, yea. For diving."
"And your chest? Your arms?"
"Yea, for diving," Chris said.
Chris was halfway up the corridor. Halfway back to the ward. Or was the ward the other way?
"I assumed it was because you're a homosexual."
"What?" Chris sputtered.
"This dude is gay?" John said disgustedly.
"Oh my god," Bill added, making a sign of the cross.
"I can't believe we complimented the butt of a gay dude," John added.
"Who's gay?"
"That guy. The one in the tiny underpants in the main hospital corridor," Bill told the random patient who had entered the corridor with a few friends.
"Well that figures, these flaming homos always want people to look at them."
"I'm not gay!" Chris insisted. "I'm not! I'm not gay."
"Ok, Chris. Let's go back again. I need to see you walking. There's still something off about your gait between your loading response and mid-stance."
Chris turned around and started walking up the elastic corridor that never seemed to end yet no matter how far he walked, the hecklers were still there.
"Wait, stop."
Chris stopped.
"Your left shoulder is dropped and I think you might have a contralateral hip drop during the stance phase of your walking."
"I've got a what?" Chris asked concernedly.
"I think it's what gay guys get when they've been butt fucked too hard," John joked.
John, Bill and a dozen patients and relatives who were now in the corridor laughed.
"No, that's not it."
Chris didn't know if he should be glad the physio was defending him or not because it meant something might be really wrong.
"It could be a Trendelenburg gait but I can't tell if it's compensated or not. Take your briefs off."
"Wh- what?" Chris spluttered.
"Just take your swimming trunks off so I can examine and observe your hips properly."
"He's trying to get your pants off," Bill mocked. "You don't need to try too hard. Homo's will get naked for almost any guy."
"I'm not a homo," Chris snapped.
"Chris. Take your underwear off. Now."
"But I'm in a public corridor," Chris whined.
"Well, it's up to you but you might never be able to walk or run or dive or swim or drive again if we don't get to the bottom of this."
"We'll help you," John offered and pulled the briefs down.
Chris felt his ass and his penis become exposed to the corridor which was bright and it was the middle of the day. Patients and relatives and staff could see him. The windows looked out onto the hospital campus.
Chris stepped out of his swimming trunks and felt a swing from his flaccid dick. It was soft penis dangled at about three inches long, his loose balls were like pendulums. There was sniggering though and pointing and blushing as if the people who could see him naked were the ones who were embarrassed.
"Walk."
Chris walked naked and barefoot up the hospital corridor.
"You shave your balls and pubes too."
Chris cringed as the physio commented on his grooming again.
"Hairless like a good bent over queen," John observed.
"I'm not," Chris said. "Stop saying that. Please stop."
Chris started to get hard. Right there in the corridor where everyone could see him.
"Oh that's good. A bad accident like yours can impair sexual function."
"It can?" Chris replied.
"Oh yea. Totally."
The hot physio stopped him where he was and grabbed Chris's cock.
"Fuck! What are you doing?" Chris asked.
It felt good.
"I'm masturbating you to check you still have complete function."
"I'm in the corridor. You can't do that," Chris said.
"See, I told you he was gay. Letting a man jerk him off," John sneered.
There was jeering from the other observers. So many people.
"No... oh no... please..." Chris said but it felt so good.
"Chris!" said an outraged voice: his dad's voice. "I can't believe you would desecrate your religion by masturbating. Never mind letting a man do it for you."
"No dad... it wasn't like that..." Chris tried to explain.
It was hard to explain when you were naked and hard and being jerked off in a public corridor in a hospital while lots of people watched. His dad was watching.
"He's... he's just checking I have complete function..." Chris said.
"He? Who is he?" his dad asked as he watched his son being pleasured.
"The physio," Chris said.
"The physio? That doesn't sound like a name. Did you even get this man's name before you allowed him to masturbate you?" his dad asked reasonably.
"Umm..." Chris replied.
A moment later and Chris shot his load on the floor, cumming while his dad and everyone else watched. When Chris looked at the physiotherapist again, he no longer looked so young. He looked older just for a moment. It was like a mask that slipped and was returned a second too late.
"What is your name?" Chris asked the man who had just made him cum.
"Fredrick."
The name triggered something and it was relief that Chris became aware he was dreaming. It had been a nightmare but...
Chris was dreaming.
Chris couldn't wake up.
COSTUME CHANGE
Henry, Andrew, Quinn and Leroy had met in the library after school. The library had been increasingly quiet after school because of the construction work causing disruption for staff, students and resources throughout the school; the sign outside the library that read "QUIET PLEASE" was blatantly being ignored by the construction crew outside. Besides, no-one was going to the library when it was Halloween and there were parties and tricks to be had.
So, the four boys had the library to themselves but never-the-less the hid away in the corner out of immediate sight.
They sat on the floor in a circle, knees almost touching.
"I mean, most people lie down to go to sleep, that's all I'm saying," Quinn snarked.
"Are you guys coming?"
The four boys turned to see a pirate standing at the entrance to the niche where they had taken refuge. None of them were quite sure if they were dreaming of if this was real. The trouble with nightmares and Halloween was it was hard to separate the oddities of dreams from the oddities of reality.
"Coming? Coming where?" Leroy asked.
"The party. Everyone is outside already."
The pirate beckoned them and one by one they got up and followed. They looked at each other as they walked. They were together but none of them could remember falling asleep and nothing except the pirate looked out of the ordinary.
Until Henry stepped over the threshold of the library into the school corridor.
His clothes were suddenly replaced by a Halloween costume.
Henry was nearly naked, wearing only a diaper and sucking a pacifier.
Andrew laughed from the other side of the threshold. It wasn't the cruel, mean laughter of the NPC's that normally populated dreams. This laugh was sincere but mirthful and also sympathetic.
"Very funny," Henry more or less said – the pacifier muffled things.
Henry felt humiliated.
His bare legs and feet were milky brown and emphasised by the pure white of the cloth diaper that was secured at the hips with safety pins. His creamy, almost hairless thighs were also accentuated. His little tummy curved from the waistband of the diaper which was slung low enough to reveal Henry's short, small patch pubic hair. Had he been hairier, the lowness would have been showing much more of a bush. As it was, it only served to emphasise Henry's twinkiness. Henry felt overwhelmingly exposed by his bare chest and legs.
"Well, come on," Henry prompted them after pulling the pacifier from his mouth.
"I'm not going next," Andrew insisted.
"You go next," said Leroy who had turned to Quinn.
"Oh yea, sure," Quinn replied and shoved Leroy out the library.
The big black lad stumbled over the threshold and his clothes were replaced by a football kit.
A slutty football kit.
He had football boots and socks pulled up to the knees. His thighs were bare and his groin covered by a jock that contained his penis but exposed his butt. Leroy's hot, muscular thighs had a delicate thatch of black hair that was flattened against his dark brown skin. Leroy had no shorts on, no knee or thigh pads and not even a jersey. He was wearing the shoulder pads though and a helmet. His midriff was exposed and his ample chest and bulging biceps.
"Great. I'm wearing my football uniform. This has the be the laziest costume ever," Leroy complained.
"Yea, you couldn't even be bothered putting the whole thing on," Andrew joked.
"Fuck you," Leroy laughed.
"It's not the laziest costume, Leroy. Remember that year Andrew went trick or treating as an undercover cop?
"Fuck you," Andrew laughed, embarrassed by the memory.
"Guys, I think we might all be dreaming," Quinn said thoughtfully.
They looked at him like he was stupid.
"What gave it away?" Andrew asked sarcastically.
"No, I mean, obviously we're dreaming but I'm not a dream in Henry's dream. We're all dreaming together..." Quinn said. "So who's dream are we in?"
"Fredrick Summer's, maybe? You think this is his mind? Or whatever is left of it?" Herny asked.
"Maybe all our nightmares have been in his mind? Maybe that's how he was able to push things into the real world, by feeding off us in here?" Quinn asked.
"Sure... sure... that makes sense..." Leroy said facetiously, nodding along.
None of this nonsense made sense!
"We need to find him. Anyway," Quinn turned to Andrew. "Your turn."
"My turn? Why should I go first?" Andrew objected.
"I call second," Quinn asserted hurriedly.
"Fuck," Andrew complained and stepped over the threshold.
Andrew emerged on the other side with a narrower field of vision than he had before. His costume was very simple – sneakers on his feet, boxers and a sheet over his head to make him look like a ghost from an old movie.
"I am not going anywhere with a white boy wearing a white sheet over his head," Leroy said adamantly.
"It wasn't my choice!" Andrew said hastily. "And I'm not exactly wearing anything underneath."
"Nothing you say?" Quinn flirted harmlessly.
"Boxers," Andrew told him.
"Rude," Quinn moaned.
"Get over here," Leroy told him.
Quinn wondered what his costume would be like. Sexy fireman? Sexy policeman? Sexy doctor? As long as he was a sexy something, he didn't mind. Quinn stepped over the threshold and the other three burst out laughing. Again, it wasn't meanspirited. It was immature, boyish giggles as they took in the sight of Quinn's outfit.
Quinn was wearing sandals that meant his feet were otherwise bare. His calves, shins and thighs were bare; his butt was bare; his abdomen, chest, shoulders and back were bare... in fact the only thing Quinn was wearing was a fig leaf shaped piece of starched green material that was covering his penis. It wasn't secured by string around his waist either. It was secured by an elastic band attached to the back of the fig leaf. The loop was wrapped behind his testicles and around the base of his dick. Like a cock ring.
"Oh this is not fucking fair!" Quinn complained. "Swap?"
"No way, mate! You should have gone third," Andrew replied – his feelings about wearing a white sheet over his head suddenly ameliorated.
"Fine, let's go," Quinn said miserably.
"I think you look great," Henry complimented his friend.
"Screw you," Quinn said petulantly.
"You don't need to be such a baby about it," Henry said without irony.
DREAM WARRIORS
The boys made their way to the main entrance; attracting attention, sniggers, cat calls, wolf whistles, jeers and sneaky pics as they walked through the school. The moment they stepped out of the school, they found themselves not in the courtyard but at home.
Fig Leaf Street.
Where it had all started.
"Anyone else notice the narrative jumps are more obvious now?" Quinn asked.
He was shivering a little because it was getting cold and he was nearly naked.
"Maybe because we're all together? Or Mr Summer doesn't care anymore, he doesn't need to try an persuade us it's real," Leroy answered.
"I love your costumes."
The guys turned to see a handsome young man in his mid-twenties with brown eyes, coiffed hair and a short stubbly beard. He seemed almost familiar but that was how dreams worked, right?
"Can I take your pictures?"
"No," they all replied.
"Great."
The young man pulled out his phone and snapped pictures of the group. From left to right was a slutty footballer, a diaper boy, a ghost and a jungle boy. They were kind of like the village people but for gays. So they were exactly like the village people.
"Are you really a ghost under that sheet?"
"What? No, of course not," Andrew replied. "Ghosts aren't real."
"Let me check to make sure."
The young man pulled the sheet, grabbing it between Andrew's nipples and tugging. Andrew as instantly exposed in just his boxers. By now it wasn't just the young man taking their pictures, there were boys on either side, snapping pics of the sexy group of four.
"What's with the guy in his boxers?"
"I think he's a ghost."
"How do you figure?"
"Uh... He's a boy who died in his boxers... Obviously!"
"You know we can see your dick and balls from the side, right?"
This last question was directed at Quinn who blushed but was unable to cover up. He's been so busy thinking about his frontal exposure – the inadequate coverage provided by the leaf – that he hadn't even thought about the fact his genitals would be unprotected from the side.
Quinn's balls were a tight sac and his penis short but firm because of the cold. Quinn burned with embarrassment and the laughter of the boys taking pictures before he realised he didn't need to be embarrassed.
"It's a dream," Quinn said. "It's just a dream."
Quinn pulled the leaf off, completely exposing himself.
"Oh my god, look at his tiny little peen."
Quinn ignored the jeers and sniggers and the flashes of the cameras; the taunts and the cruel laughter and the sneers of derision.
"You want to hold this..." Quinn asked as he proffered the leaf to the young man who had started it all. "Fredrick?"
The young man in front of them smiled and, as had become one of his tells, it stretched grotesquely across his face.
"That's Fredrick Summer?" Leroy asked.
"It's him. Isn't it?" Quinn challenged and he dropped the leaf to the ground.
"You think your so clever," Mr Summer snarled.
Quinn didn't respond with words, instead he turned and walked behind Andrew and without warning bulled his boxers down to the ground. Andrew was his best friend's stepbrother – a straight guy – but he was very good looking. Quinn had never seen his ass so close before. He planted a kiss on one of the bare cheeks.
"What the hell are you doing?" Andrew asked as he covered his dignity.
"We've all tried to face our fears remember? Shame, bullying, abandonment, reputation... whatever Chris's deal is..." Quinn reminded them.
"But we're all still trapped in the dreams," Leroy said slowly as he caught up to what Quinn had realised.
Leroy pulled the helmet off his head and dropped it to the ground with a clatter. Then he pulled the shoulder pads up and off and tugged the jock down to the ground, stepping out of it.
"Whoa! Dude!" said Andrew as he saw his friend's big floppy dick.
"Whoa! Dude!" said Henry in a totally different tone of voice.
"Fear and cum have been a big part of these nightmares and we've faced our fears. But control is important too," Quinn said. "We have to usurp his control."
Quinn felt like a warrior as he stood up the Mr Summer; he knew the man had probably thought he was the weakest of them all.
"We haven't all faced our fears. Chris... we're still trapped because Chris hasn't faced his fear," Henry said as he pushed the diaper down and stepped out of the silly costume. "Someone has to get to Chris."
"We're not the only ones who are trapped though, are we?" Andrew joined in, stepping out of the boxers. "Are we, Fredrick?"
"You are all cursed," Fredrick Summer said.
The young man's handsomeness grew darker and more twisted and he started to resemble the older man they had all met at the beginning. In a matter of moments he aged from a young man of eighteen or twenty to forty years old.
"Except we know what you like. You like boys, you like humiliating and using them and you like to be fed," Andrew said. "We know what you're hungry for."
"And we're going to give it to you. To sate your hunger," Leroy added.
"You can't do that," Mr Summer said darkly.
"You kept bringing cum into the real world. But that was when you were in control," Henry tole the man. "We're going to bring ours into the real world. To your grave. To set you and ourselves free."
It wasn't a magnanimous offer. They weren't setting him free to be kind or forgiving him to be the bigger people. They wanted to set him free to cut the tether that kept him in the world where he could use his magic against them.
"I'll find Chris," volunteered Quinn.
"Maybe I should find him?" Henry said cautiously.
The kiss before the summer holidays. Chris's refusal to tell the others his fear. Maybe it would help if Henry said it for him. "You're gay, it's ok. You can be gay and closeted, that's ok too. Don't be scared."
"No, I'll go," Quinn insisted. "I think I know where he is and I think I know his fear."
"You do?" Henry responded.
"I figured it out," Quinn admitted confidently. "You guys stay here and start cumming on Mr Summer."
"This is so fucked up," Andrew commented.
"You can't save Chris. Leave him behind and I'll let the rest of you go," Mr Summer lied.
"I don't believe him," Henry passed remark.
Quinn started to walk away.
"Don't turn your back on me, faggot! Get back here," Mr Summer snarled.
Quinn paused – how many times had he been called that word? How many times had he been punched or something whispered about him? It didn't hurt anymore. Quinn carried on walking, concentrating on where he wanted to go, because that's how dreams worked, and he vanished.
Henry had grabbed his dick and started to stroke it. The crowd that populated the dream cheered and clapped as he got going.
No matter how many times they reminded themselves they were dreaming, it was still scary and embarrassing. It felt like they were outside and it felt like they were being watched; it felt like they were being recorded and mocked and exposed.
"Is it too late to change my mind?" Andrew asked. "I don't want to watch you do that."
Jerking off in the middle of the street outside their house was exhilarating but mortifying. Henry had never jerked off in front of his stepbrother before but then, a day or so ago he'd been wearing a mask that milked Andrew's cum into his mouth.
"It's just wanking. Come on, like the football team has never had a circle jerk," Henry replied.
"Who told you about that?" Leroy asked with shock.
"Oh, I was joking, but we'll need to talk about that sometime!" Henry said.
"Do you really think that letting me watch you masturbate is going to destroy me?" Mr Summer laughed at them.
There was a concerned edge to his voice though that Leroy and Andrew heard. It was enough to persuade them to join Andrew in stroking themselves.
"There were plenty of boys in my time who didn't even need to be persuaded or bullied into being little cumsluts. That's all you are," Mr Summer tried to persuade them.
"It wasn't just about watching though, was it? It wasn't just about cum," Henry said. "It was about power. It was about control. You had it and the boys you chose didn't."
Henry was getting himself nicely worked up, rubbing the head of his dick and smearing precum down the shaft of his cock.
"And we're taking that power away from you," Leroy contributed.
Leroy, Andrew and Henry stood in a row in the middle of Fig Leaf Street, jerking off openly.
"We're in control now, Freddy," Andrew challenged. "Are you still hungry?"
Henry was actually quite enjoying it now. The publicity, the exposure, the boys watching him and the camera phones. It was one of those dreams that you wake up from and want to go straight back into, knowing it's not real but getting a thrill from the consequence-free fantasy.
There was an element of wish fulfilment in jerking off in public while being watched. Scandalous and outrageous and embarrassing but free from consequences.
In view of the lack of consequence's, Leroy reached over and put his hand over Andrew's. His best friend gasped and their eyes locked. Andrew yielded control of his dick to his best friend. He was straight but it was exciting to have another person handle his meat.
Leroy felt the same way. He'd never fantasised about touching another dick or being touched by another guy but the nightmares had been an awakening to new things. Andrew reached out and put his hand on Leroy's cock, stroking it a few times before gripping it and jerking.
Henry couldn't believe what he was watching. His stepbrother and best friend jerking each other off. Was no-one even going to offer to jerk him off? Henry contented himself watching the show the pair were giving. He put a hand behind his head, exposing his pit, as he continued to stroke and he turned to fully expose himself to the audience.
The spectators seemed less animated than in past dreams. As if Mr Summer's attention was divided and breaking down. The more outrageous the boys were, the angrier and more diminished Mr Summer seemed to be. Mr Summer was enjoying watching the boys pleasure themselves or each other but it wasn't the same when they weren't scared.
Scared of being outed, thrown off the team, disappointing friends or family or themselves; scared of losing scholarships, not getting into college, not winning the next game; scared of making Mr Summer angry or sad or disappointed; scared to say no, to speak out, to be blamed, to not be believed.
"Oh man... I think I'm getting close," Andrew admitted.
"We still need to find his grave," Leroy said.
"I don't suppose you want to just tell us?" Andrew asked the sinister man.
"You haven't figured it out?" Mr Summer asked with a smirk.
He was pleased they didn't know. It gave him power again. Mr Summer started to laugh – a fake, cruel and derisive laugh at their stupidity.
"Dad wouldn't tell us where your body is now," Andrew admitted.
Henry started laughing too – delightedly, extatically, excitedly.
"What's so funny?" Leroy asked.
Leroy and Andrew both stopped the mutual masturbation and took their own pricks in their hands again.
"I just figured it out. You're kinda clever," Henry said to Mr Summer. "That was the last place we'd look."
Mr Summer had been too clever for his own good when he's shown Quinn his unmarked grave. He'd wanted to scare the boy.
"Where?" Andrew and Leroy asked.
"Mr Summer took Quinn and Chris to his grave, remember. The construction site," Henry reminded them. "We told dad we knew where he'd been buried and asked where he'd been moved to."
"Ok, how does that help?" Andrew asked perplexedly.
"Dad said Fredrick Summer isn't going anywhere..." Henry said. "Because he's still there."
Mr Summer had stopped laughing. For the first time he was starting to think the boys might actually vanquish him.
"Are you telling me..." Andrew said slowly.
"They never moved it," Henry interrupted triumphantly. "The body is right where they found it."
STANDARD PERCAUTIONS
"Do I have to?" Chris asked.
Chris was lying on a hospital examination table. He was naked and his legs were spread and a doctor had two fingers buried in his ass.
It felt good.
It felt really good.
The doctor gradually worked his fingers in and out of Chris's hole, the sphincter gripping the digits. The feel of the fingers, especially as the knuckles passed back inside him was very pleasurable. The ring of Chris's hole could feel the difference between the length of the fingers and the knuckles as they went inside him. And then there was the playful probing of his prostate which was even more exciting.
"Of course you have to," the doctor replied.
Over the doctor's shoulder was a man with a camera taking pictures.
"It's just... I don't know if I want naked pictures of me appearing in medical magazines," Chris said and he blushed furiously.
"Why not? Do you know how expensive hospital bills are? You need to pay for them somehow," the doctor said.
More pictures were taken and Chris moaned and grunted, biting his lip as his hole was probed again.
"I guess... It's just embarrassing..." Chris said.
"Make sure you can see my fingers halfway inside his pussy and his leaking cock as I finger fuck him," the doctor told the cameraman. "What? Embarrassed about what?"
Chris couldn't respond, he was too humiliated by the comment.
It was a comment made as if his feelings didn't matter.
As if he didn't matter.
"You can't print pictures of me... like this though, right?" Chris asked.
"Like what? Getting your hole fisted? While you're harder than a faggot in a dildo factory?" the doctor scorned. "We can print whatever we want."
A well-timed press of Chris's prostate made him moan involuntarily and his toes wriggled on the examination table. Chris's cock gave a sudden, untouched lurch and squeezed out a shot of precum.
"Fuck, look at this homo leaking. Did you get that?" the doctor asked.
"Great picture mid-squirt."
"Awesome. We should use that for the billboards," the doctor suggested.
"Billboards? You can't put naked pictures of me like this on a billboard," Chris objected.
"Of course we can. You signed the release. We can do what we want with the pictures," the doctor replied. "I can see it now..."
Chris watched a mean grin cross the doctor's face.
"Are you worried you might have an STI after having anal sex like this homo? Come to our clinic for safe, anonymous and respectful healthcare," the doctor said.
There no respect or anonymity for Chris though.
The doctor just called him a homo.
"I made sure all the pics have his face in it, is that ok?"
"Oh yea," the doctor answered the cameraman. "His face, his big dick, his stretched hole with my fingers inside him. He's loving it."
"Oh... oh my god," Chris said as he felt himself getting closer to an orgasm.
He hadn't even touched his own cock. It was all just from being fingered and Chris wondered if having a dick inside him would be the same. Then he felt ashamed of himself for thinking suck a thing. He didn't want to be this way. He didn't want to be gay; he didn't want people to know he was gay.
"We should put your name on the billboards. So everyone can recognise your shaved, cock-hungry body," the doctor continued. "Model: Chris Booth, 1985 Fig Leaf Street, Overlook, New Jersey."
They couldn't do that, could they? Put his name and address out there for anyone to find, expose him, tell the world he was... he was a...
"Holy fuck!" said Quinn.
Chris turned to see Quinn watching at him.
"Holy fuck!" Chris also said.
Quinn was utterly mesmerised by the scene. Chris getting fingered by a doctor who wasn't even wearing examination gloves. He knew it was just a dream but really, did the man know nothing about PPE and standard precautions?
"It's a dream!" Quinn told him. "You're not really in hospital, Chris..."
Chris felt totally humiliated as Quinn watched him getting fingered, his hard cock jumping and leaking.
"Well... you are actually in hospital but this is just a nightmare," Quinn told him.
Quinn figured Chris's nightmares had changed after the car accident, incorporating aspect of reality to make his nightmares feel more real.
"What are you doing here?" Chris asked.
"I'm here to save you," Quinn said bravely.
"You should go," the doctor said.
"Oh, fuck off, Ricky," Quinn replied dismissively.
Quinn strode over to Chris and put a hand on his shoulder.
OMG!
A boy was touching him!
While he was naked!
"What're you doing?" Chris asked – the words running into each other.
"Like I said, I'm here to save you. Come with me, Chris," Quinn said.
"Cum... with you?" Chris asked.
"Yea. You're going to face your fear," Quinn said brightly.
Chris looked muddled.
"Come with me," Quinn said.
"Now? Like this?" Chris said.
Quinn couldn't help but grin – he'd been trying to be the better person by not looking at Chris's smoking hot body and rigid cock. It was a dream for him, not a nightmare, but he needed Chris to trust him so they could all escape.
"Let's go," Quinn said.
Chris slid his ass up the bed and the doctor's fingers slipped out his hole. He turned to face the side of the bed, his bare legs dangling over the edge and hopped onto the floor. Quinn was right beside him – clothed and smelling nice. Fuck. Chris tried not to think like that.
Quinn took his hand and walked him to the door.
"I hope this works," Quinn said.
"You hope what works? I thought you knew what you were doing?" Chris said irritably.
"Mr Summer seems to have a thing about thresholds. I think all we need to do is..." Quinn said as he pulled Chris through the doorway.
REAL FEAR
They emerged beside the school swimming pool.
Chris was perplexed. What were they doing here?
"We think there's two things we need to do to escape," Quinn explained. "Find Mr Summer's grave, which the others are working on, and feed him..."
"Feed him?" Chris interrupted.
"Cum, we think," Quinn told him. "Also, you still need to face you fear."
Chris cast his eyes down. Quinn would never understand that he just couldn't do that. He could never accept the truth about himself.
Quinn surprised Chris by grabbing his cock and starting to stroke it.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked.
A gay boy was touching him and it felt good. It almost made Chris think he could do it... he could say it... couldn't he?
"Relax," Quinn said.
Chris had been close to cumming when he was being fingered so it wasn't going to take much to send him over the edge.
Chris closed his eyes and imagined being ok with this. Imagined telling his parents, especially his dad, how he felt about other guys. Would they accept him? Reject him? The fear was still there. Would he ever be forgiven?
Chris put his hands behind his head as Quinn continued to jerk him off. However, the sensation of a hand stroke stopped and for a moment, Chris feared Quinn was gone. Maybe he'd never been here and it had all be part of another nightmarish trick?
No.
Chris felt a mouth on his cock.
His eyes opened and Quinn was on his knees.
Quinn figured he'd never get this opportunity in reality so he might as well go for it. His mouth moved up and down the shaft, his lips pleasuring the veiny meat. Chris's cock was hot and hard, the head was moist and spongy and his buttocks, because Quinn grabbed a handful of those meaty cheeks while he was at it, were firm but doughy.
Chris didn't say anything while Quinn sucked him off. He wondered if it felt like this in the real world? If he was missing out on experiences like this because he was a coward? Chris felt his cheeks being spread and a finger gently circled his hole as Quinn continued to suck and slurp.
Oh fuck.
"Oh my fucking god," Chris exclaimed.
Quinn had just pushed a finger into Chris's ass and deep throated the cock. The effect was magical. Chris climaxed but Quinn pulled the cock from his mouth just a second before the explosion. Jets of cum splashed into Quinn's hand. Chris looked at the milky, lumpy soup of ejaculate – his cum in the palm of Quinn's hand.
Quinn reached up with his other hand, placing it on Chris's dreamy (pun intended) abdomen.
Then Quinn pushed Chris into the swimming pool.
Chris hit the surface with a splash. He floundered for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden gesture. When Chris's head surfaced, the liquid that clogged his hair and slopped over his face and neck and shoulders was not like water.
The liquid was warm and milky, salty-sweet and pale – it turned Chris's brown nipples pale as it coated Chris's entire body. He was swimming in a pool filled with cum. It was on his lips and in his mouth.
"What the fuck did you do that for?" Chris demanded.
"I know you're scared of what just happened," Quinn replied.
What getting sucked and jerked by another boy? How did Quinn know? Did Henry tell him about their kiss?
Quinn looked pleased with himself as he looked at Chris swimming in sperm but Chris's cum was in his hand – the last sample they needed to defeat Mr Summer.
"But you can do this Chris," Quinn continued. "I need to go back to the others but you can face your fear now. Just admit it."
"What if I can't?" Chris asked on the edge of tears.
"You can," Quinn said confidently.
"Quinn? I'm..." Chris hesitated.
"You're scared of drowning," Quinn said it for him.
Chris's eyes went wide. Is that still what Quinn thought? Chris looked at him with shiny eyes. Could this be his way out? Could he lie about his real fear, keep his secret and still escape?
"I'm scared of drowning, Quinn," Chris said.
Quinn immediately dissolved into a pool of spunk. One moment he was a person and the next he was a blob of jizz splashing on the edge of the pool and into Chris's face. Quinn's sudden departure, with Chris's cum still in his hand, left Chris alone.
Chris breathed deeply and then ducked under the water, swimming into the depths of the semen.
HOLD BACK THE RIVER
Quinn awoke with a jerk.
Literally he was jerking himself off as he came around. He was standing beside Henry, Leroy and Andrew who were all stroking on a muddy embankment.
"Where are we?" Quinn asked.
The other three jumped with his spontaneous arrival.
"The construction site," Henry replied. "We realised that Mr Summer thought he was being clever."
"He wanted us to think his grave had been disturbed and they moved him," Andrew said.
"His grave wasn't disturbed?" Quinn asked.
"No, it was," Henry told his best friend.
"But he's still here," Leroy finished.
"Our dad's never moved him," Henry said."
"They just left him in the ditch?" Quinn asked.
"Best place for him," Henry decided.
It made sense in a way. The body hadn't been found for nearly twenty years and had only accidentally been disturbed. Leroy's dad had complete access to the construction plans for everything from the underground infrastructure of pipes and utility conduits to foundations of the structure itself. The new sports hall would be erected and the sinister man would be buried beside it.
His unmarked grave.
It looked like the utility lines had already been laid and the trench was ready to be filled in again with the body secreted away out of sight and out of mind.
Now all the boys had to do was set him free, the hunger sated, and Mr Summer wouldn't be able to haunt them anymore. Were they setting him free? If their intuition was right and that was how Henry's dad had trapped Mr Summer's... soul? If he had such a thing... were the boys setting him free or trapping him in like an evil Genie?
As the boys masturbated in the darkness, naked and standing on muddy ground, they wondered how they'd explain themselves if they were caught. Each of them were proud of having faced their fears and Quinn was happy that Chris had finally faced his.
He had fallen out of Chris's dream and emerging to end the nightmares.
One by one the three boys splashed cum into the deep chasm. They couldn't see a body; it was secreted deep beneath the surface of the trench. But the grave itself seemed good enough because one by one, they disappeared from the grave side.
A dream within a dream.
Leroy's cum shot a good distance, falling to the depths of the hole. Then he disappeared from the nightmare to awaken in the library.
Andrew's cum shot into the slippery slope that Quinn had climbed after waking up in the unmarked grave. The cum seemed to trickle like a stream, joining Leroy's cum in the bottom. Andrew vanished too as the combined donation seemed to swell, like a groundwater of semen coming to the surface.
"Is Chris ok?" Henry asked.
"Yea, he's ok," Quinn replied.
"We're going to have to be there for him," Henry said. "If he'll let us."
Henry could only image how hard it was for someone like Chris. His image and masculinity meant a lot to him and coming to terms with being gay would take a lot. His religion, or his perception of what his faith thought about being gay, also made it hard for Chris.
"I'm willing to support him," Quinn agreed.
If it meant going to his diving competitions and seeing hot guys in speedos then that was a sacrifice Quinn was willing to make.
Henry shot his load into the grave and his cum mixed with Leroy's and Andrew's. The stream of cum became a river as Henry vanished and left Quinn all alone.
Quinn looked at his hand which still had a small, sludgy pool of Chris's cum in it. He wanted to eat it but knew he needed to give it to Mr Summer.
"Don't do this."
The voice was a pleading whisper.
Quinn turned to look at Mr Summer – no longer the confident younger version he has masqueraded as on Fig Leaf Street. Nor was he the thin, black suited apparition. The standing before Quinn was gaunt, harrowed and emaciated. Had he looked like this after a week tied to a chair in a hot office, starving to death? Before Quinn's eyes the man was literally fading.
"I'm sorry," Quinn said.
He felt a small swell of pity for the man because Quinn was a good person.
Quinn shook his hand and flicked Chris's cum into the grave. The chasm filled nearly to the brim as Quinn stroked himself. He felt cum washing over his feet as the whole hole in the ground filled with four donations of spunk.
There was nothing Mr Summer could do to hold back the river of semen.
Quinn's orgasm pattered onto the surface like rain on a river. His ejaculate completed the five donations and Quinn vanished from the graveside to leave Mr Summer all alone.
AWAKE
Henry, Andrew, Leroy and Quinn woke up in the library.
They were still ensconced in the corner and sitting in a circle, fully clothed. It was dark outside and it was hard to tell how long they had been together, fighting Mr Summer in the nightmare world.
"Did we do it?" Henry asked. "Did we win?"
"I think so," Quinn replied.
They each stood up and weren't sure what to say now. They had been through so much, seen more of each other than anyone intended, faced fears and placated a monstrous abuser. Mr Summer's body and soul had both enjoyed the cruelty of control; one half died and the other half lived.
Now both were gone.
They were free.
The four boys left the library – each trepidatious as they crossed the threshold but nothing magical happened this time. Unanimously, they walked out to the construction site, finding a negligent gap in the fence so they could go to where Quinn had woken up.
The unmarked grave. The hole. The ditch. The trench. It was dry, though the soil was moist, and there was no cum inside it.
"Are we sure he was buried here?" asked Andrew.
"Twenty years ago? Or now?" Henry clarified.
"Both?" Leroy replied.
"I think so. It feels right," Henry answered.
"I think so too. Our dads covered it up all those years ago. It makes sense they'd take advantage of the site to cover it up again," Quinn said grimly.
"I guess with the new sports hall being built here they know the ground won't be disturbed again for a very long time. If ever," Leroy said.
None of them talked for a while.
"I'm tired," Henry said.
They all chuckled or smiled – they were all tired.
"Come on. Let's go home," Andrew said to his stepbrother.
As Andrew steered Henry away, Quinn turned to follow his best friend. Leroy remained for a moment longer. He was worried about the part his dad would need to play in the cover-up while months of construction too place. He asked himself if it was right to do what they'd done to Mr Summer.
Then Leroy spat into the grave of the abuser and followed his friends.
DAY SEVEN
"You boys look rested," Johnny said.
Henry and Andrew had slept peacefully for the first time in a week. They had not dreamed – or at least nothing they could remember – and hadn't woken up with any spunky surprises.
"Yea. I slept like a baby," Henry said.
"Wearing a diaper and sucking your thumb?" Andrew teased him.
Henry blushed – remembering his costume in the nightmare.
"About yesterday..." Johnny started to say.
Their dad was dressed for work. Johnny was a cop who they knew had killed a man. Andrew and Henry understood why. Henry had come to accept his dad had died because of the shadow Mr Summer cast and it was a depressing shadow.
"Forget about it," Henry said.
"Yea. It's over," Andrew agreed.
Johnny looked at them both suspiciously.
"Yesterday you were both invested in this secret and today..." Johnny asked doubtfully.
"Mr Summer was nothing but a nightmare, dad," Andrew insisted – trying to spare his dad the pain of talking about it further.
Johnny leaned on the kitchen counter and studied his two sons, unsure if he should push them about the sudden change of heart or be grateful the reminder of his past was over as soon as it had started.
"I hope..." Johnny started to say and hesitated. "I hope you don't think less of me. For everything that happened when I was your age."
"Mr Summer was the villain. He chose you as a victim but that's not your fault," Andrew said reassuringly.
"And he got what he deserved," Henry added.
"Right... ok..." Johnny responded. "Oh, Sebastian phoned earlier. Chris seems to be out of danger..."
AWAKE
There was a knock on the door of his room as a young Asian man stood in the doorway. He was older than he looked and he had sweet brown eyes, a nice smile but a slightly harried expression. He was wearing a pair of scrubs and seemed pleased to see Chris sitting up in bed.
Chris's hospital gown was loose around his neck, exposing his smooth chest and clavicles.
"Good morning, Chris," the doctor said.
"Good morning," Chris replied.
"I'm pleased to see you coming along so well," the doctor said. "We'll have you back on the diving board in no time."
"Really?" Chris asked excitedly.
"Absolutely," the doctor insisted. "Unfortunately, I'm going to be unavailable for a while so I'm handing your care over to a colleague. Ok?"
"Oh... sure," Chris responded but he was disappointed.
The doctor stepped back to allow his colleague to enter. The man who stood in the threshold looked far less reassuring and Chris thought he looked familiar. Then, the man smiled grotesquely.
"Oh good," the man said. "You're awake..."
END OF CHAPTER VIII
THE END?
I originally intended to write a Christmas sequel to this story but I wasn't sure if there would be any interest so I put it on the back burner. If you want to read a sequel, I still have a nifty idea that I might return to.
Meanwhile, my next story will arrive (hopefully in January) in 2024 and will be titled: Magnificently Mortifying Modelling Maladies.
If you're enjoying the more fantastic elements of this story, check out The SEX Men; it's a comic book inspired story involving superpowers, smut, comedy, drama and embarrassment. The sequel (The SEX Men: The Sext Class) is scheduled for 2024.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/the-sex-men/
Feedback and comments are my only compensation:
Blogger: https://niftyencomiums.blogspot.com (updated frequently)
Discord username: niftyencomiums
Email: niftyencomiums@gmail.com
Reblogme: https://niftyencomiums.reblogme.com/
Reddit: https://www.reddit.com/user/niftyencomiums
Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/niftyguy
Twitter: @niftyencomiums1
Readers are reminded that Nifty is free because of kind donations from site users. Please consider donating: https://donate.nifty.org/
My stories so far:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester
Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told, A Series of Embarrassing Events, and Noah the Embarrassed Nudist.
Also: Anthology, and The SEX Men.
Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures.