Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property.
The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses.
You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing.
As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago -- free for your enjoyment -- the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule.
Note, that in this chapter, there will be a sexually violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading.
Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com.
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
William Morgan
For the next few weeks, life goes on as normal and there's still no sign of finding something more stable or stimulating on the job front.
Richard (Mister tall, dark, and handsome) and I managed to get together a few more times. Other than the sex, we have nothing in common and are prone to awkward silences most of the time. We eventually reached a stage where we just ended up avoiding each other.
It's Friday today and the club is expected to get real busy, as usual.
I arrive around 8:00 p.m. to help set up. Tonight, I'm a stagehand and have to remain "behind the scenes" to make sure all goes well for the bands who are playing. I like doing this because I stay hidden behind equipment and panels most of the time and that way I can watch everyone in the crowd without being too obvious.
Everything runs seamlessly and the club is pumping. Business is good and only two fights break out during the night, which the bouncers help to sort out. Most of the patrons are just there to have fun, head bang to the music, get pissed, or get laid.
We finish around 4:00 a.m. and I head on home. I'm very tired and try my best to stay awake.
I reach the undercover parking of my building and get out. It is eerily quiet except for some thudding noises from somewhere upstairs. Surely no one in the building is having a party at this time of the morning?
I climb the two flights of stairs to the ground floor and turn the corner that leads to my apartment.
I spot them. A cold shudder seizes me.
Anthony, the psycho from the train, and two other guys are chatting loudly and appear to be under the influence of something. They're sitting in the courtyard on their haunches against the wall of my apartment. Some lights are on in the other apartments. They've already pissed off the neighbors and I'm sure to get an earful at the next general meeting.
I turn to run, but Anthony spots me and starts chasing me.
"Catch the homo!" he yells at the other two, but he's already far ahead of them.
Pulse racing, I run down the stairs towards my car, but suddenly I'm flattened from behind. My face hits the concrete and I'm skidding across the floor with what feels like someone latched onto my back.
Some skin's been scraped off my arms and face. It burns and it bleeds.
In a flash, I'm flipped over and pinned down against the ground. Anthony squats astride my waist. His eyes are like black beads as he's staring down at me with an evil grin, pushing both my arms to the floor.
The other two guys come walking up from the side.
"Come look, guys. See what a homo looks like."
"Anthony ..." I try.
He backhands me hard and my face rips sideways. My jaw cracks.
"Shut up! No one wants you to talk! I've been watching you and what a busy, busy slutty bee you've been. Turning all of the straight guys into homos."
His friends are now next to him.
I don't struggle, hoping they'll get bored. Instead I quietly pray. It won't help though.
His erection stabs against my stomach and I am paralyzed with fear. Is he going to rape me? I am confused and scared. It's obvious he hates me for what I am, but then, why the erection?
"Come on, guys. Grab his arms. Let's take him back to his place where it's private." He winks at the one guy.
To me, he says, "You scream and you're a dead man."
They grab me by my arms and drag me to the stairs. My face and arms are still on fire and my knees hurt too. I try to walk but can barely manage a couple of steps as they drag me roughly up the stairs.
Anthony grabs the keys off the concrete floor and passes us.
He unlocks my apartment, lets us in, and then locks the door behind us.
"Well, boys. It's party time." There is that evil grin again.
They immediately start to rip and tear my clothes off me and shove me down onto the floor. I only have my boots on and I bang my head against the side of the couch. Before I can turn around to face them, they grab both my ankles and force my legs wide open.
"Look at that pretty asshole, boys. You like?!"
"Oh, hell yes, such a nice girly one. Nice and smooth. Pussy heaven," they mock.
Anthony is above me, so the other two must be holding my legs. I try to turn but a fist hits me between my shoulder blades. I gasp from the pain.
Someone shoves a finger into me and I cry out.
"Get a dishtowel!"
One of them lets go of my leg and goes to the kitchen while the other guy grabs both my legs.
He returns and grasps my one leg back from the other guy. Anthony shoves the dishtowel in my mouth and ties it tightly around the back of my head. It hurts my mouth.
I whimper.
"No crying, baby. We're gonna give you all the loving you need."
A second later a dick positions' itself at my hole and then thrusts into me with tremendous force.
I scream into the dishtowel.
"Oh, nice and tight, baby! Take it, baby!"
He rapes me.
I'm in excruciating pain and try to fight him off, but I get a fist in my kidney.
"Take it like the bitch you are, baby!"
He continues battering into me and I can swear I feel blood running down the back of my balls.
Thank God, he comes quickly. Probably heavily turned on by the excitement of the violence...and I lie there crying, my tears spilling onto the floor. My nose is running, and I am yelping and whimpering into the dishtowel. I'm battling to breathe.
"Your turn, Roger."
A man lets go of one of my legs and I try to move, but Anthony quickly grabs it.
"Let's flip her!"
They flip me round and my dick flops to one side. It's semi-hard, against my will, and I cringe from embarrassment.
"Look, she likes it!"
I try and avert my eyes out of humiliation and see the one they call Roger standing there, his filthy dick protruding from his zipper and ready for me. He unfastens his belt and trousers then drops them halfway down his legs.
"Lift her legs! I don't want to see that thing!"
They squeeze my legs together and lift them up towards my chest. Now I seriously can't breathe. Oh God, oh God!
Roger positions himself at my hole and rips into me. I scream into the dishtowel again but to no avail. His dick is bigger. I scream and scream.
"You like my big dick, baby?!"
I refuse to respond.
Someone punches me in the face and everything in front of my left eye goes dark. Warm liquid runs down my face. It's blood.
He rapes me longer than Anthony did, and I begin to slip in and out of consciousness. Willingly, I think.
With my one eye, I can just make out his shape, through the pain, blood, and movement, as he bucks and shouts like crazy, while without mercy, he grinds in and out of me.
"So nice and tight! Your pussy loves my big cock. Hey, baby?!"
I try to nod but then my other eye gets punched. Now I am completely blinded. I'm in terrible pain all over and I'm sobbing by now.
Luckily, I pass out.
A few hours later, I wake up lying on my stomach in the bathroom. I'm in awful agony and I can't hear anything. My ass is on fire. The strong, pungent aroma of ammonia stings my nose. Holy shit. Did they shove some kind of cleaning agent up me?
I try to crawl to the lounge but I can't see properly, everything's a blur. I'm looking for my cell phone. It takes me what feels like hours to find it.
I press the emergency speed dial and Ozzie picks up. Thank God, he made me load that setting.
He can barely understand what I'm saying. My lips are so swollen I can hardly speak and I taste blood. They must have beaten me up some more after I passed out.
I drop the phone and lose consciousness again.
Joshua Taylor
For the next few days I'm walking around with an inane grin on my face. Everyone at work comments on it and Stacey, wrongfully, thinks I've turned a corner with my endless sulking, which she refers to as "that snippy tone of yours."
But, when I get to work the following Monday morning, the atmosphere is suddenly very different. Everyone in the mall and studio seems to be avoiding eye contact and even Belinda, who's normally far too chirpy, is unusually subdued. In fact, I get the feeling everyone's trying to avoid me altogether, except for some curt hellos.
By about lunch time I'm so tired of trying to figure out what's wrong, that I just decide that whatever it is, it'll blow over. I go meet Sammy who works at the ice cream shop, we always have lunch together. He has a huge crush on me and is forever "sponsoring" my lunch. I know it's all in the hope of winning me over. It doesn't hurt anyone to let him do it (especially me) so who am I to complain?
I sit down at our usual table at the coffee shop and see Sammy coming from the direction of the ice cream shop. He's carrying his iPad.
He greets me but seems a little uncomfortable. What has curled up his ass and died? Maybe he isn't getting enough. I call the waiter, who reluctantly comes over, and give him my order. He quickly takes it and hurries off without his usual friendly banter. No tip for that rude bastard today.
"What the fuck's going on with everybody?" I ask no one in particular.
Sammy sits down. "This is why I brought my iPad. I think you need to see something."
He taps on it a few times and swipes once. Then he hands it to me. "I think this might explain it."
What am I looking at? I focus in on the screen. Naked people are going at it. Oh, an amateur porn site! What's this got to do with me? I'm not into porn, I make my own. I don't mind it but hardly need to watch it. The video starts playing... Two guys are standing in front of a seated, naked woman, she takes the one guy's prick out of his briefs to suck it and then...
FUCK! It is me!
I frantically tap on the iPad to make the video stop and eventually succeed. My cheeks are burning, and I'm suddenly aware that I'm the center of attention and not in a good way. Now, even more than earlier, I realize how many of the people working in the mall are staring at me. Mainly with disgust or disapproval and now and then, a few suggestive winks from others.
My stomach is in knots and I feel like I want to throw up. Especially because some of those giving me blatant winks are guys, which reminds me of what else is on that video.
I look at Sammy, and he just stares at me with a mixture of disappointment and anger.
"I see now it must be the way I look that wasn't appealing to you. I could've accepted the fact that I was hopelessly pining for a straight boy, but there you are...enjoying yourself immensely with some random guy. I'm obviously not your type then. Why didn't you just tell me instead of leading me on?"
"I, um..." I have no words.
He takes the iPad from me, closes the cover, and gets up to leave.
"Wait, please?" I sort of beg him.
"Why? So, you could feel that one person in this world doesn't think you're a total cunt today?" And with that, he walks off.
I sit there with my head in my hands as the waiter brings my chicken sandwich and coffee.
What the fuck am I going do? Who else has seen this?
I take my cell phone out of my pocket and look at the string of missed calls I've received during the morning. We're not allowed to answer our phones while we're in the studio and I had mine on silent. Stacey is usually the only one who calls me anyway.
I scroll through the list and see there are three from Stacey.
Shit.
I call Stacey back but it goes to voicemail. I text her to please give me call.
She doesn't call me back while I'm having my lunch, which is going down like stale sandpaper. The coffee tastes like bile.
I pay the bill and go back to the studio.
Now that I know what's got everyone in a state, their repulsion towards me is even more apparent. Belinda tries to think of something to say to me, but for once, is at a loss for words.
I keep to myself as much as possible for the rest of the day. At least the customers distract me. A few of our regular gay clients make sudden appearances, much more than usual, and are giving me obvious signals.
This is a fucking nightmare. Why the hell is Stacey not calling me back? There are few new missed calls, but nothing from her.
When 5:00 p.m. comes, I'm glad the day is over. It's been excruciating.
I go home.
As I arrive at Stacey's apartment building and park the car, I notice her older (and bigger) brother standing on the entrance steps with some boxes next to him. I also spot my big suitcase.
This is gonna be a shitstorm!
I march up to him, trying to put on a brave face.
He looks me up and down like I stepped out of a sewer and sticks out his hand, palm up. "Keys!"
I drop the car keys and the apartment keys in his hand. He turns his back on me and is about to go inside the building.
"I can explain!" Well, I can't really.
He turns around slowly and looks down at me. Obvious revulsion and anger darken his eyes. "If I see you anywhere near my sister or even find out you're trying to call her; I'll fuck you up! You comprehend?"
He doesn't wait for my answer and turns to go in. I hear him mutter "faggot" under his breath.
What the hell do I do now?
I take my cell phone out of my pocket but can't think of anyone I can call, so I dial for a cab service and wait for them to pick me up.
The cab comes, and I tell him to drop me off at a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city. I lie on the disgusting, old bedsheets...my mind racing.
I eventually remember Kyle and spend a long time trying to remember where I'd dropped him off the night we met. I decide to look him up tomorrow.
It's worth a try, because I'm sure none of my straight friends will be very forgiving, and Will, well, that would be a big mistake. He will be expecting more ...
I'm no faggot! It was just a convenient hole. That's all.
My sister's new boyfriend is also a douche and he'll probably have heard about it from Belinda by now. They're related somehow. My only option is Kyle or I'll have to move back home to my parents as a last resort. That's if my sister hasn't run off her mouth to them already. I'm sure she also knows by now.
The next morning, I leave my stuff at the motel and catch a cab to work. When I get there, the atmosphere's even worse, and I realize that I can't continue working at the studio. If I don't quit, they'll probably fire me. The negative attention I'm attracting isn't good for the studio's reputation and that'll affect all the happy families that come here to have their pictures taken or developed. They wouldn't want to expose their children to a porn star.
By lunch time, I've made up my mind and inform Belinda that I've got no option but to quit. She just nods and takes my studio keys and name tag from me.
I call a cab and set off in search of Kyle's sister's place.
When I eventually find it, no one is home. I let the cab go and wait outside the building until nightfall.
Much later, in the distance, I see Kyle walking up the road and when he spots me, he stops.
He starts up again and doesn't stop until he's standing right in front of me. "Hi," he simply says.
"Hi, Kyle." I make a point of letting him know I remember his name.
"To what do I owe this pleasure, Joshua?" There's an awkward silence. "Don't bother telling me about the video, I know. I hope you're not thinking of recruiting me for the industry? I may seem cheap to you but even I've got my standards."
Ouch! I deserved that.
"No. I need your help. My life's falling apart, man, and I honestly have no idea what to do."
"You seriously want my help? After we shared, what was a special moment for me, which you then made all about you and just left me, like some old, used condom and ran off. You've got to be kidding me." He moves to pass me.
"I know you're mad at me. And I deserve it, but, I really have nowhere else to go. Please, Kyle." I grab his bicep out of desperation.
"Where's your stuff?"
"It's back at a motel for safekeeping. I can get it later."
He walks on, enters a pin on a keypad then turns to me. "Come on in then."