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Disclaimer: If you aren't 18 years of age, or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenagers and is for adults only! The acts are consensual. This story is complete fiction, all descriptions, and names are also made up. Any similarities are purely coincidence. This story also contains violent scenes including force, bondage and humiliation. If this bothers you, please do not read any further!
Perceptions - Chapter 21
I walked into the house after school on Tuesday. It was a cold April afternoon, damp and bone chilling leaving the feeling that summer might never come. I wasn't focused on or thinking about anything in particular, it was just a grey Tuesday. My mother appeared out of nowhere like a storm trooper. "How was your day?", she asked. "Ok", I said as I opened the refrigerator and took out some juice. She lingered. "What?", I asked slightly frustrated as she watched me pour out grapefruit juice into a cup. From behind her back, she produced a white business sized envelope. My heart jumped. I looked at the return address logo in the upper left corner. Dartmouth. Shit, this is it, the moment of truth. I looked at her with hesitation and she pushed the envelope at me. "I don't wanna", I said. "You do it." "Greg, open the envelope", she said. "Shit mom, this is it.", I admitted. I can't remember opening the top or unfolding the paper or what anything said, all I saw was the word `congratulations' at the beginning of the letter and I was like a pogo stick repeatedly catapulting 4 feet in the air. She was just as happy for me, and we ended up going to a local restaurant that night when my father got home from work as a celebration of my acceptance.
This had been my dream since grade school when I visited the Dartmouth campus for a Football game between the Big Green of Dartmouth and the Big Red of Cornell. I thought the campus was amazing, and the idea of it just stuck, like a seed buried a long time ago. It was important because of the history for me. Plus, I had gotten accepted into their veterinary medicine program which was what I wanted to do more than anything in the world.
I felt the need to share the good news, but I had been kind of vacant in a bunch of my friends' lives since Greg and Laith came onto the scene. Maybe this was telling me it was time for me to reconnect with some of my friends. It wasn't like I had a hundred friends or anything, but I was social. I sent out a group text to a few friends suggesting we get together this weekend. I didn't say anything about Dartmouth, I just kind of wanted to rekindle things. I didn't get a response on Tuesday night, but I chalked that up to it being late when I texted. The next day I woke up totally stoked. The shine had not worn off from my college acceptance and I felt like I could do anything. I showed up at school with too much energy, I was greeting everyone and pushing completely outside of my normal envelope of social interaction. I ran into my friend Odie (Gene O'Donnell) and blurted out, "hey buddy, how are ya? What's going on?" "Hey", he responded and kept moving. What?' I thought. That's not good. Something is up. As I walked to class, I lost a little of my shine and started to wonder, Did they think I've been ignoring them for too long? Did rumors about me get to them that make them uncomfortable?'
I got the same response from Boyd Conley, but I followed after him and cornered him outside the library. "Hey man, we've been friends for a long time, what gives? What did I do to you? Odie totally blew me off too." Boyd's expression told me he wasn't happy to be put in this situation. But we'd been neighborhood friends since we were 10 years old and that still counted for something. "Listen", he began, "You didn't do anything to anyone, but there is so much proof flying around of you ........ you ......", I interject, "being a faggot?" "Yeah" he responds. "Not just being a faggot, but being used and passed around like trash.", he finishes. I'm suddenly crushed. It looks different from the inside than it does from outside. I more quietly offer, "I'm not trash. I'm just different." "Fuck, Sandy I know that", he offers, feeling bad now. "I get it, sorry man", I reply and walk away. 30 seconds later, he catches me down the hall, spins me around and says, "What are you doing Friday night? Why don't just the two of us hang out?" My smile is uncontrollable. "Thanks Boyd, that'd be great. Thanks." I gush and he's gone.
It's Thursday before I run into Laith and Greg after school in the cafeteria. Surprisingly, they are alone and not with their regular posse of bros. "Hey, what's up?" I offer too casually. Laith is on me in an instant. "Rephrase Fago." "Hello Master Laith, Hello Master Greg", I offer. "Can I sit with you?" I ask politely. Greg looks at Laith for an answer. It's a majority, and Laith kicks the empty chair out to indicate I can sit there. "So how are you guys I ask a little gleefully?" I get a weird look from Master Greg that says "What the fuck is up?" Master Laith explains, "Fago here has something to tell us. Something good I suspect because he's fuckin' giddy. Look at him." My smile is uncontrollable again. Master Greg looks at me, "Do you?" "Yes", I answer. Master Greg then looks at Master Laith, "How the FUCK do you always do that? Are you a witch? Are you reading my mind right now? Shit, I feel violated." Laith shoots back with a smile, "I do have relatives from Ipswich, maybe I am voodooing all your asses right now." Master Greg resumes, "Ok Faggot, what?" I look down at my hands, then up again, then down at my hands again. "What?!", he repeats. "So, I got an acceptance letter from Dartmouth this week.", I gush. "Whose letter was it?" Laith retorts quickly. I cough out a laugh because that was really quick, and funny, and I want to say something smart-ass back, but I know better. "It was mine Sir. I got accepted at Dartmouth for the Fall", I reassert. "Well" Laith says quite genuinely, "Congratulations Fago, you'll make a great addition to their LGBT organization", to which I laugh again. "Thanks", I respond genuinely.
I look at Master Greg who has said nothing. His face looks serious, but I sense more bad than good here. "What's wrong Sir?", I ask with concern. "Nothing, queer. That's good I guess." "It is", I say. "Is there something that you are unhappy about Sir?" I inquire. "Fag, we have some stuff to work on here. Get lost." I'm afraid to know what's going on, so I kind of hastily say my goodbyes and leave them in the cafeteria.
On Friday, I make it a point to run into' Laith again, and I find him in the weight room after school. As I approach he states, "Does it say reporter on my hat?" "No Sir, it says Patriots" I reply. Greg is right, he really does know everything before it even happens. Since he knows why I'm there, I don't need to say anything. He'll either tell me or he won't I figure. "Spot me" he directs and I stand at the head of the bench as he lifts a bar of 185 off of the posts and begins pressing out reps. His body is extraordinary. The proportions, the sheer strength that comes out of such compact muscle is astounding. The ripped veiny appearance is intimidating and magnetic. Plus, he knows how to use it in every way. When he hits eight repetitions he starts to lag, and I use two fingers to indicate I am only providing enough help to get him through the motion. He drops the weight on the posts with a clank. "He isn't happy about you leaving." I wasn't prepared for that. I process it again. He.... wants.... me.... to.... stay. "Fuck, I didn't get that. What should I do?" "I dunno queer" he said loud enough for some others to hear. "It'll be fine though", I said. "It's only two hours away." He did the I don't know posture' and he motioned for me to get lost. "Thank you Master Laith" I said loud enough for the others to hear. He grinned.
That night I got together with Boyd. We had pizza at a local joint, played video games at his house and before the night was over, we talked about the friend' situation. It was clear that my social universe at school currently fell into two categories, those who were using me like a whore, and those who were talking about the fact that I was being used like a whore. "Hey man, I don't know what to say. I can't go to games and hang out with you and be all like what's up man?', and the next night the wrestling team is lined up daisy chaining you." Maybe at college it will be different, but here nobody is gonna understand. I told Boyd, "I really appreciate you being straight with me, and I get it. You're right, there would be nothing for me to talk about with anyone right now. I think I was just feeling lonely. Thanks for being there." That was it for us, I'm glad we got together but my old social scene was gone now.