WARNING: This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual acts between men with men and is not meant for minors. If you are offended by touchy subjects such as homosexuality, witchcraft etc please do not read it. Do not distribute. A single copy has been sent to the Nifty Archives. Please do not post to newsgroups or websites. You may E-mail this story to anyone you choose, so long as you retain this warning and the author's E-mail.
This is a work of fiction and does not reflect the real life activities of the author. All characters are purely fictional, and any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any opinions/beliefs expressed in this article are included for enhancing the story-line and has no bearing on the author's personal belief and faith. This article is not intended to poke fun, insult, harm or damage anything, living or dead.
Any mentions of witchcraft or shapeshifting or any occult art is purely from imagination. They are not real. The author does not bear any responsibilities for any misinterpretation on the reader's part and subsequent misuse of any fictitious spell/incantations etc included in this article.
The author is not a witch, does not have a witch and a shape-shifter for parents. The club, Venom, is used only as a setting.
Title: Witches, Shapeshifters and Sex --------------------------------------
Chapter Five =============
A. Antonio (Part II), Hocus Pocus
Its been almost a year, since that dreadful night where I almost succumbed to Antonio. The humiliation still stings as if it have happened only yesterday. Dad has been pushing very hard with my witchcraft studies, using whatever free time both of us have on lessons and spell-casting. Of the Five Powers, we work mainly with Air and Spirit as both form the basis of most of our magick, although in actual fact it is more complex as each element plays a vital role with each being an intricate part of our surroundings.
Air represents intelligence and the arts, East being the direction associated with it. The physical forms of Air are the winds, the atmosphere and the breath. Spirit represents the All and the Divine, Center being the designated direction. It is the catalyst for synthesis of the Powers and is seen as the spiritual realm and the dimension of the Divine, providing means of connecting with our deities.
"Stefan, you ready?" Dad asked, placing a book on a desk that was several feet away from me.
It was a Wednesday night, rather hot and humid despite a short shower earlier on in the day. I was practicing with my newfound abilities. Dad had spent the past month training me, walking through exercises and warning me about the dangers of over-exertion.
"Okay, now empty your mind and think of a leaf. Form the image as vividly as
you can." Dad drilled on monotonously. We had been through this for umpteen times.
I closed my eyes and pictured a small, green leaf with a tiny stalk resting on a table, as if it had just been snapped off a large tree.
"Now, feel your own breath and imagine what happens when you let it rush out onto the leaf. Concentrate on the energy of Air flowing around."
I inhaled, letting the air entered my lungs through the nostrils and exhaled slowly, all the while feeling the contractions of the facial muscles and how the air felt cold initially but warm when I released it into the environment. I imagined the leaf floating a few centimeters off the table as the air particles around charged with the energies from my breath lifted it up.
"Good, now try to absorb as much of the Air as you can."
I inhaled again, this time drawing deeply the energy that was ebbing from the strands of Air swirling around the leaf.
"Redirect the energy to that book on the table and move it from its dormant
state."
I opened my eyes, trained them on the leather-bound book sitting on the table and expelled the energy stored within in a gush. The book flew and hit the wall while the table tipped a little before settling back.
"No, no that's all wrong! How many times have I told you to control and not
let everything loose at one go? Air is a good friend but when friends are
angered, they too can cause damage. Luckily, you do not have much strength
yet." Dad chided, apparently displeased with my performance.
"Sorry Dad, I forgot to let it out gently again."
Dad shook his head.
"Never mind. Lets experiment with the shielding technique I taught you. Think
only of the vastness of the universe. Feel the rhythm of your heartbeat as
you drifts through it."
I could see in my mind's eye the never-ending blackness dotted with twinkling spots of lights and felt my heart ticking away like a metronome, a consistent background sound in the solitude of the empty space around me.
"Tap into the energy of Spirit that is the endless universe and merge it
with your heartbeat."
I saw the stars pulse at irregular rates and felt how the pumping of my heart harmonized with them, becoming one like a great symphony, the evenly-spaced thumping sound filling in as the bass. This was much easier than the previous exercise.
"Now I am going to step into your mind. Search for my intrusion and block me
out."
There was a bent in the universe, at least it felt so to me. Someone was in here and was watching my every move. I could locate his presence for he was like a dissonant note, sharp and clear, in the beautiful music that was playing. I could tell the intruder was a he because the note felt solid and unyielding. A woman would have felt soft and pliable.
I changed the notes and tempo, guiding the piece to include the new sound. The note altered in quality, modulating its pitch and the frequency which it appeared at. The trespasser was resisting my efforts to repel him. I worked faster, mixing and blending the music as soon as a screeching noise that was the note surfaced. Finally, when the offending shriek disappeared, I switched back to the original music.
Dad gasped and I lost my concentration.
"Absolutely marvelous! I couldn't have done better myself. You even
figured out how to strike back which caught me by surprise. Heh, if I
hadn't built a barrier in time, I would probably be suffering from a
headache right now. At least you are showing potential in Spirit, which means
all my hard work hasn't been for naught." Dad complimented.
"Does that mean I can defeat Antonio?" I asked earnestly.
Dad scratched his forehead and replied, " Probably not if you are thinking of fighting him. You don't have his skill or strength in the offensive. But you should be able to defend yourself should he attempts to manipulate your mind. He will need to have Jeremy's experience in mind shifting to win. Come to think of it, even Jeremy will find it tough to shift into your thoughts."
Dad chucked with delight. I sighed with disappointment.
"That implies there is a possibility that I am still vulnerable to him."
"Don't worry Stef, you will get stronger with practice, sooner or later
you will not have to fear Antonio." Dad reassured me.
I had remembered to ask my parents about their discussion, that night on Samhain when they were attending to me after the encounter with Antonio. They were reluctant at first, which was unusual since they were usually very happy to share any information I wanted, but after much coercion they had relented. However I would have opted not to know, since ignorance would have been bliss in this case.
"You are not going to like this boy witch." Papa grumbled, annoyed with my persistence.
I kept quiet. I wasn't about to give up just yet. Dad's face was unreadable. This transaction happened more than a month ago.
"To be blunt, that night Antonio had intended to make you his slave. He
was trapping you with his thoughts and had we not interfered in time, a
part of you would have been bonded to him."
Breath froze in my throat while my brain pounded away, trying to absorb what Papa was saying.
"Bonding is forbidden to all shapeshifters, unless both parties involved
consent to it. This is because to bond can be very dangerous to both the
To'ekar (bonder) and the Pe'ekar (bonded). A oneness must be reached, a
common platform where both minds become a new entity. If the Pe'ekar is
significantly weaker, he or she will be owned, unable to think or act without
the To'ekar's permission. If the To'ekar fails, the penalty is death or
insanity. Moreover, Antonio being a Sha'vikar is restricted to bond only one
person in his lifetime and such a decision can only be made after he has
the approval of an older Sha'vikar who has bonded to another."
My hands clutched into fists, so tight that the knuckles cracked. Dad gave me a sympathetic smile and instinctively, I knew things were going to be worse.
"Our guess then, Duvre's and mine, was Antonio could not have been truly
serious about bonding with you as the two of you were at loggerheads with each
other. The only plausible explanation was he could have wanted to bond you for
a short while and was going to undo the bond after he was done shaming you.
He must be very certain that you were going to be made his servant because
that was the only way he could have broken the bond. He being the master and
you his slave." Papa finished, searching my face with concern.
Dad looked at me sadly. Angry could not have accurately described my reaction then. I was vengeful, frightened and burning with hatred. How was it possible that beneath such an angelic face was a demon?
"So...in...other words I was like a piece of meat on the block, waiting to be
chopped?" I stammered, my voice trembling.
Papa nodded.
"Fortunately we arrived there in the nick of time and I pulled you out of the
trap you were ensnared in. I had sensed your cry for help." Dad said.
"But things are going to change now. I have decided to speed up your
lessons so that you can progress to the next stage of magick." Dad added enthusiastically.
"Of course, if boy witch fails to learn how to protect himself, there is a
another alternative." Papa countered, there was a hint of joy in his voice.
"If we are left with no choice." Dad agreed.
"What is...it?" I rasped hoarsely, tendrils of dread creeping up my spine.
"You can wed Antonio and become husbands!" Papa suggested.
"WHAT?! HUSBANDS?!!" I screamed, faint with shock.
"Why not? Both of you will be just like us, shapeshifter and witch, a perfect
match made in heaven. He can be a huge asset in your pursue of magick with
his strength, especially when the two of you are bonded, shifting his
energy to you when you require it. There will not be any need to get
acquainted with each other since we are close like a family. He can take
lessons from me whenever he likes without having to make appointments which
are a bloody hassle."
"But I do NOT like him! Moreover, he is your nephew which will invite gossip
and criticisms. Isn't bonding dangerous?" I shouted, thinking of every possible aspect that was fundamentally flawed in such a ridiculous proposal.
"I am not a blood relative of Antonio's so technically we are not committing
incest if that's your angle. I can lie that Antonio is actually an orphan
adopted by my dead brother to satisfy the wagging tongues of those nosey
parkers. I don't foresee any problems with bonding if the two of you are
going to have sex. Sex is a catalyst for two minds to connect so bonding
will be easier."
"Besides, if you are truly worried, both Duvre and I can offer our assistance.
Surely with our experience and combined powers, you can feel at ease? Damn,
I'm good at this."
I turned to Dad and he answered with a weak smile. My shoulders drooped defeatedly. This could not be happening! Dad was subscribing to Papa's crazy idea and Papa was enjoying himself. Evidently, they had done a lot of thinking on this subject. There must be something that they had missed out.
"But...but...." I said stupidly, hoping to buy some more time.
"No more buts boy. Antonio is my student so he cannot go against my wishes
which leaves you. Now, allow me to offer you some advice. Love is not
the only constant in a relationship. Awesome sex is the thrill, the spark
that keeps two people going. Hell, I love your Dad more with each passing
day and we have been together for more than half a century. You may not
love Antonio in the beginning but all that can change." Papa admonished.
I groaned, they had their minds set on this.
"The only solution, other than marrying Antonio, is for you to increase your
powers. It is stated in the Book of Shadows that not many witches are capable
of casting spells with only their minds. Even those with potential can take
decades to master how to work the slightest feat like lighting a candle
without physical contact. But then we never can be sure unless we try, can
we? " Dad comforted.
I felt the pillars that were supporting my world collapsed. Life with Antonio, what a nightmare!
That was why I had developed skills that some people would call psychic abilities along with an immense dislike for Antonio, not that we were on speaking terms before. I could not look at him and not want to spit in his face.
Dad and I do not regard our magick as psychic abilities because we are merely harnessing the abundant gifts provided by our Goddess and God, except that we are able to transcend from invoking them using tools and rituals to using our minds. Tools are just there to give symbols to the Five Powers and incantations help us to focus better. Whatever magick that is conjured is still a projection of the caster's inner strength and will.
According to Dad, our path goes back thousands of years and is all but unknown today. Since the 'Burning of Witches', most written records on witches are gone and books that dealt extensively on mind exploration have been missing as well. In the past, witches consist mainly of the intelligentsia of the society. These are clever people who aid village chiefs, emperors and landlords to govern their serfs and villeins through acting as soothsayers or oracles. They delve into the spiritual and the divine, using their magick to ensure good harvests, promote peace and harmony. Most common folk hold them in high regard. However, amongst them there are the good and the wicked, the latter refers to those who abuse their authorities for their own selfish reasons - cheat people of their lands and money, manipulate rulers into wars. This is where the so-called black and white magic arise. In truth, there is only one kind of magick and whether it is for beneficial or destructive purposes, it all depends on the user. As a result of their interests in the supernatural, the ancient witches spend much of their time in seeking ways to improve their mental powers. Some of them are successful and have passed them onto their students through cryptic scrolls or spellbooks. Our magick comes from such a book that Dad has accidentally uncovered. It has since become our Book of Shadows.
"I hope you are not thinking of revenge, Stef. Heed The Three-Fold Law.
So what if you hurt him, assuming that you are capable of it? Does it take
away the memory of what he did? What happens if he decides to get back at
you? Its a vicious cycle that never ends." Dad advised, noting the pensive frown I was wearing.
I blinked, purging that recollection of the talk with Dad and Papa about Antonio out of my mind. I considered Dad's question, it was an old argument that I had used when I debated with myself ever since I knew the extent of Antonio's cruelty. He should be taught a lesson so that the innocents would be spared from his malice, I told myself. Yet, how much was it for others rather than for my own desire to see Antonio eliminated for playing with me like I was a toy in his hands? I wasn't certain but one thing I was sure of was I had to avoid marriage with him at all costs.
"Hating someone is ten times easier than loving someone. But hate only
breeds violence and despair, Stef." Dad quoted.
"Dad, let me think about it okay? I promise I won't do anything foolish
without first asking you. But I can't guarantee what I will do if he
makes a move first." I answered.
Dad just shook his head and sighed. In my heart, I knew he was right.
B. Antonio (Part III), Night's Out At Venom
I unlock the padlock, a simple brass locket, flip open the journal and sneeze as the dust irritates my nose. It has been awhile since the last entry, my schedule, packed with work and magick research, not permitting such a luxury. My abilities have grown stronger by now; I have started to handle Water in addition to Air and Spirit, but there is still lots of room for improvement. Scribbled in a neat handwriting is a recount of the day I decided to embark on a solo spree to Venom. The trip is more of an act of defiance, to get back at Dad for his support of Papa's notion - that of me wedding Antonio. Papa is elated about the whole thing and cannot stop harping on it everyday. I am getting sick of hearing him talk about plans to renovate the house for our wedding, how good sex with such a handsome devil like Antonio will be. But that was not why I had jotted down the details of that trip. Something weird had happened and I could not quite figure it out then. It has always been a habit of mine to write when events are confusing as the actual motion of penning my thoughts helps my brain to methodically compartmentalize them for analysis.
---------- START OF JOURNAL ----------
Friday Night, Rainy.
The thundering rainstorm has stopped, bringing down the sizzling temperature of the past few days by a few degrees. Located near the Equator, it is not uncommon to experience days of unbearably hot weather followed by sudden downpours in Singapore. Great! I can prepare for the big night.
Have to come up with a convincing excuse though, do not want Dad to be suspicious about where I am heading. Dad being such a mother hen will definitely ground me. But aren't I supposed to make him blow his top with my gallivanting behavior? Too messy, on one side I want to lash out at Dad on the other I can't bring myself to hurt him. Never mind, don't want to spoil my fun for the night with these thoughts just yet.
Asked Papa to keep quiet about the trip. No choice, had to approach him for cash because that batik shirt I had my eyes on cost a bomb. He had to know. Bought that piece of work from Malaysia, quite a steal. Lovely orange, blue and red markings. I think its going to be a smash at the club. Lied to him that I want to sow my oats before I get attached. He actually bought it!
Pacing in front of the mirror, fidgeting like a final year junior college student preparing for his prom. A little nervous, wonder why? Maybe because its the first time I am hanging out alone at a bar. Double-checked reflection, quite satisfied with my look. Think the hair needs more gel, not that the thick, slick, ebony black style cares for more. Lips too dry and pale. Add color to them with lipstick? Maybe not, will look too much like a drag.
Still early, fantasize a little about gorgeous hunks that I am going to meet. Can feel my cock straining, man gotta stop this before I shoot my load. Why am I so aroused, not as if its the first time I am visiting Venom? Can't be bothered to find out if the white cotton briefs are stained with blots of liquid. Actually feel kinda titillated with that damp feeling in the crotch.
Dinner time. Devious Papa distracted Dad with kissing and licking. Cool! No more interrogations. Gobbled down meal without tasting it. Checked the old grandfather clock. Yikes, so late. Better hurry, otherwise gets too crowded on the train. Made a dash for the washroom and check myself again. Why am I so jittery tonight? Expecting something to happen? Can't be another feeling of premonition? Getting very strong in Spirit lately, even Dad is having difficulties teaching me. But still, way too soon to be able to predict the future on the fly. That's only going to happen in movies and television.
Curses!! The queue is so long outside Venom. Not again. My legs are going to break if they stand anymore after that horrendous journey on the MRT. But WOW, is the wait worthwhile or what! Feels like in a meat market like those depicted in horny Arabian stories. Never seen so much gay people in one place. What's the occasion? Not much of a party animal, out of date with the latest news. No point feeling sorry for myself, better make the best of it.
There are women around but then I only have eyes for the men. God, cannot start to describe the rush I get just drooling over them. All shapes and sizes tonight - short, stout ones with incredible built; tall ones, suave in glossy shirts and flattering ties; Matured men, clean shaven and splendidly dressed; Fashion punks with trendy dyed hair. Red seems like a hot favorite. Never quite prefer having my hair colored, damages the original bounce. Some even got their hair braided. Wonder what they do for a living? Artists? Don't think I can do that to my hair but I can appreciate it. They look so natural, so beautiful with the braids. Must be mad to have a fetish with tied-up hair. But still I lust at how delicious these men will look like with their hair spread out on my pillow, in my bed. Yummy.
Get a few leers and winks. Must be the shirt, its quite outstanding in the crowd. They must be thinking I am a Thai or Malaysian tourist. There are couples holding hands and whispering to each other. Are they here for a swing? A few Caucasians are lining up as well, gay white males are hot meat in Singapore and some of the others are openly ogling at them. The Indian guy before me is wearing too much cologne, the scent is revolting.
Having goosebumps, why? Feels like my every move is being monitored. Scrutinized the area, nothing. Just a lot of gay people and Friday shoppers. Quite noisy but normal. Guilt at deceiving my parents?
Men with their spouses are walking past us, some of them are garbed in such garments that makes me speculate if these men are aware they are sporting gay fashion. They can't be bothered, which kind of shows how ill-informed some men are about the gay community. Although, some of their wives and girlfriends are especially alert, purposely pulling their other halves away from the queue. Groan, how nice it would be if I can just stand closer to these straight guys.
Then it hit me that I can be spotted by colleagues and friends if I loiter outside for too long. The people I work with are not much into clubbing but still its wise to be safe. I partially cover my face. The feeling of being watched still bothers me.
Inside Venom, the throbbing beat of disco music fills the air. Hot bodies dance to the mind blowing rhythm, gyrating in wild beastly manners under the spinning multi-colored lights as they lose themselves. Pick a less prominent place, tucked in a far corner that gives me an unobstructed view of the dance floor. Around me are groups of men and women, the drunk ones getting rowdy while those who are sober struggle to drink each other to oblivion with guessing games. Keeping a lookout for a nice stud to chat with.
Usually the young ones form cliques and avoid contact with others. The older men, not much but still sizable to be noticed, will cruise around hoping to end up in one such group. Not many people are daring enough to have sex because pubs are too public and undercover police are plentiful.
Not much luck as the hours drone by. The noisy neighbors are biting on my raw nerves. They are fondling each other and making lewd noises. Have to teach them a lesson. Invoke Air to pour liquor onto them. A woman screams as she feels the cold stuff douse her on the head. The rest are too drunk to notice the glasses flying about. Feel proud about my act.
Looks like have to mingle before I can find a man. After 2 shots of vodka, a little high. Never drink so much before. Not an alcoholic. Wonder what is wrong with me tonight? Flinging myself uncontrollably to the music, when I feel two hands on my body. One from behind on the shoulder, the other grabbing my private parts from the front. Some guy is pressing his firm body to mine.
I can smell him, lavender soap and Faberge Brut cologne that reminds one of spring. His stick is piercing outside my backside painfully, as we slither against one and another. His warm breath caressing my nape, as he murmurs crude promises of forcing me to grind my arse on his long, rock hard shaft. My penis threatens to burst open the pant's zipper as his skilful fingers stroke it through the stretched material.
He is kissing away the beads of sweat from my forehead and moving down to my sensitive throat when the music stopped. The voice of the disc jockey booming from the amplifiers. Something about welcoming a celebrity.
The man I flirt with step away and stride to the center of the floor in the midst of rounds of applause. He is the celebrity? Can't remember his name, some gay movement activist from somewhere. Can't even recall his face. Maybe he is the main attraction tonight. He gives a short speech and as the deafening music starts again, he pulls me away to some place. Don't know where it is, just that it is dark, forsaken and far away from the crowd.
He fumbles with my shirt, unbuttoning it roughly, all the while his tongue inside my mouth, teasing and taunting me to respond. I moan with pleasure as his hands squeeze my nipples, flicking hard, glancing blows on the tits. His burning, demanding hands explore my body, touching and fondling more as my moans become louder and louder. Can only feel. A fog of desire is clouding out logic. Feel my belt unbuckles and his lips kissing a searing trail from my face to the nether sections. My dick springs into erection the instant my underwear is removed.
He then covers it with his mouth, the teeth clamping onto the foreskin as he wrenches it back, leaving reddish teeth marks on the barren flesh beneath. My stomach clenches as a part groan, part sigh escapes from my mouth. I can feel his slender fingers pinch my cheeks as he deep throated the full rod, he chokes as my prong glides along the walls of his mouth into the esophagus. The guttural noise is exciting.
Not sure how long we remain like this, he sucking on my cock and me urging him to continue. I feel my mind slipping away into a whirlpool. I try to pull back, holding onto my sanity because somewhere in my mind, I know this is a mistake. I do not have sex with someone I haven't chat with before!
Just then, another man appears. Both physically and as a figure in my mind, although in my stupor I cannot tell one from the other. Just know that he is there and he looks like an acquaintance I detest. Antonio? But that's impossible! He 'lifts' me, I think that is the word to use, from the swirling pool I am submerged in. The mysterious celebrity squatting under me, staggers back and howls in agony. Next thing is the newcomer steadying my exhausted body, carrying me in his strong arms and hurling me onto a car seat. His car I think.
My pants are still hanging around the ankles. The new guy resumes sucking on my cock but there is a subtle difference in his method. He uses his tongue to softly lick the hard manhood, slow tender touches of a man relishing his lover's phallus. His fingers gather my nuts in a familiar hold, massaging them while above, I growl like a bear. It is as if he knows when my ecstasy escalates for he matches his ministrations in synchronization. I cannot hold back any longer. I grunt with gratification as loads of cum spray into his awaiting mouth, my body jerking again and again while he draws every fiber of pent-up tension out of my system.
Laying on the leather cushion, the man hugs me affectionately as I shudder with satisfaction. Like we are very intimate friends. Relief? Fear? I can sense those disturbing feelings emanating from the man. Want to flee but is too weak so I let him, a part of me aware that I will have to deal with whatever just happen when I am more in control of my faculties. Just before drifting off into a relaxing slumber, the man nuzzles close to my ear and says in a soothing and sexy voice, "You are safe now Cherie, its me Antonio."
---------- END OF JOURNAL ----------
I re-read the last paragraph a few times.
Who is that man at Venom? Why does Antonio appear from nowhere and stop the stranger? Why is Antonio being so caring and claims I am in danger? Did he bond me? But why don't I feel possessed? Somehow I need to ask my parents these questions but that will mean telling them the truth about that night. Dad is going to be very upset. But if I don't, Antonio will. How can he miss out on an opportunity to humiliate me?
C. Peter (Part II), Happy Birthday
"Hey, Mr. Witch," Peter's voice booms over the receiver.
"Abracadabra, hah you are a pig!" I chant.
"Oink! Onik!" Peter snorts. I laugh.
"Okay, why are you calling me at work?" I ask.
"Do you think I am going to say, nothing in particular? Of course not silly.
What time is the dinner at your place?" Peter says.
"8 PM sharp." I reply.
It is my 23rd birthday and my parents have decided to throw a party because 23 is an auspicious number. 2 plus 3 is 5, which symbolizes the Five Powers. Apart from Peter, I have invited some of my colleagues and friends.
"Its tough to buy a suitable gift for you. What do you think of a crystal
vase?" Peter inquires.
"Hello? Knock, knock is anyone home? It is not a present if I tell you
exactly what I want." I smile.
"Oh yeah, how dumb of me. Thank you for your enlightening definition on what
a gift should mean."
"You are welcome." I say, trying to sound very important and serious.
"Yeah rite, you can kiss my arse." Peter responds.
"Are you sure you want that, Handsome?" I suggest in a sultry tone.
"Oh spare me!" Peter pretends to beg. Both of us laugh.
"Are you going to bring Selena along?" I ask with concern.
Peter and Selena have not been speaking much to each other for some time. I have figured out the cause after battering Peter for a reason why he is spending so much time hanging out with me instead of accompanying his girlfriend on a date. It seems like their relationship has deteriorated due to a severe lack of communication. Selena is preoccupied with her fledging career, after being promoted to Assistant Financial Manager when the previous office-holder has to quit because of family commitments. Peter has ventured out to start his own business in machinery maintenance with his parents' backing. Consequently, he and Selena have less time to meet.
"Hey buddy, speak to me," I urge him on.
It has been a norm lately for Peter to suddenly phase out and become quiet whenever I bring up his and Selena's affairs.
"Ehh......we will see about that," he prevaricates.
"Oh no. You better bring her along, otherwise I will zap you with my wand." I try to joke, hoping to lighten the sudden tense atmosphere. I have intended to use my birthday celebrations as a chance to reconcile the two of them.
Silence. Then Peter hangs up on me wordlessly. I deliberate whether to call him but decide against it when Betty enters the room.
"Hey you, Happy Birthday" Betty congratulates.
"Thanks, Betty" I grin.
She looks like a white dandelion in her vanilla colored sweater and emerald green skirt. She is not wearing much make-up, only a pale lip moistener.
"Why don't I ever get a birthday greeting from you, Betty honey?" Eddie bemoans loudly, apparently fetching for attention.
His face is contorted into an uncanny resemblance of a child wailing when his mother refuses to buy him candy. Betty does not even dignify him with a reply. Jason who is testing a circuit board prototype with a multi-meter chuckles softly as he raises his head to watch the comical frown on Eddie's face.
"What do you want this year, Dear?" Betty asks, putting some messages into my incoming tray.
"Yup, anything in specific, Stef?" Jason joins in, turning his attention in my direction.
"I know what I want! But how come nobody asks me?" Eddie laments, pretending to look pitiful.
"Because its not your birthday! " Jason replies and I snicker.
Everybody in the company knows what Eddie needs for his birthday because he has made it very clear by his shameless display during the last Easter. That morning, he arrived at the office, masquerading as a pink bunny, clothed in pink from head to toe - pink shirt, pink pants and worse, he even went to the trouble of finding a pair of long bunny ears. He was wearing those ridiculous ears as he bounced around the division and gave out baskets of eggs to the female colleagues. For each basket, he had requested for a kiss on the cheek in return. When it was Betty's turn he had demanded for a wet kiss on the lips. What he got was a disgusted stare before Betty walked away in a huff. He had then shouted at Betty's retreating back that he would have her for a birthday present. That had earned him a scolding from the Electronics Division Manager, Mr. Wee and endless teasing from the rest of the guys. Luckily, Betty did not take it too personally and did not charge Eddie with sexual harassment.
"How about a new car and one million dollars?" I answer, exasperated.
"Jesus, you must be joking. At the rate the COE prices are soaring, it is going
to cost a fortune just to purchase a second-hand car. A motorcycle is more
economical." Jason say.
"I think he is desperate for a girlfriend like me!" Eddie interrupts, winking at Betty as he mentions the word 'girlfriend'.
That strikes a chord in my heart. I have been dreaming for a boyfriend since my first year as an undergraduate as I gaze enviously at my fellow schoolmates holding hands with their partners during lectures or having meals in the canteen. Yet, Lady Luck hasn't been very generous with me, for not once have I been involved with someone that I truly care about. The only relationship that takes off quickly is with Antonio but it is one I will gladly abandon. I do not harbor any illusions about my boyfriend; No glamorous clothes and unlimited cash to spend; He does not look like some dashing model or well-known pop figure; Neither does he possess huge estates nor is he chauffeured to work daily. I just want someone who I can talk freely with, who puts my welfare as his highest priority and is romantic enough to buy me a rose whenever I feel down.
I sniff to show my distaste for Eddie's suggestion, keeping up with the appearance of being unperturbed. Smart Betty, correctly interpreting my unhappiness because Eddie's words have hit a sore spot, pat me on the shoulders to offer her support. I clasp her hands for comfort.
"I'm kidding. Actually I'm fine with any thing that I receive. Its the
thought that counts not how expensive the item is." I explain, hoping that they will accept this argument and discontinue their questions.
Betty and Jason nod their head. Eddie has an odd look in his eyes, as if he is plotting something mischievous.
"Okay, then. See you at eight, dear" Betty walks out of the room, not sparing a glance in Eddie's direction to acknowledge his presence. Immediately, Eddie's face turns as unwelcoming as thunder.
I shake my head, amused at Eddie's patience to persist with the game after months of failing to elicit any positive response from Betty.
I pick up the phone and dial Selena's office number. No way am I going to let my friends suffer and not interfere. The phone rings a few times, follow by a preprogrammed voice mail that asks me to leave a message after the beep. I state the venue, date and time of the dinner, parting with a remark that I will be very thrilled if she can make it.
I leave the office earlier than usual, taking half-day off to prepare for the party tonight. Despite the fact that my parents have engaged a catering service to take care of the meals, the house still needs to be decorated. I drop by a nearby shopping mall to get some silver and blue streamers, packets of balloons and a few bottles of champagne before heading home.
The guests begin to arrive at 7:30 PM. We are not anticipating a big gathering. I do not like grand affairs. Antonio is the earliest to reach our house, stopping on the way to pick up the cake at Bengawan Solo and the bags of ice that Dad needs at Cold Storage. Tricia and Clarice are next, strolling up to the house with plates of fried ikan kuning, yellow fish in Malay, arranged upon banana leaves. Around 8 PM, the gang at the office, Betty, Eddie, Jason, Ravi and Bee Leng drive through the gates separately in Eddie's and Ravi's cars. Peter and some of the old friends from the varsity volleyball team are the last.
At my parents' insistence, we have decided to use a blue and white theme for the party celebrations. Lamp shades are draped with meters of azure muslin, casting the place in a flickering blue ocean of lights. China vases are filled with bunches of tulips to add a touch of beauty. Blue cushion covers camouflage the sofas and chairs as if they are solidified bubbles beneath the sea for mermaids and mermans to rest their tired tails. Blue and white balloons are affixed to the ceiling enhance the surreality of being underwater. The buffet dinner is served outside, under a make-shift tent with a roof that is streaked with blue and white lines. I feel it is an extravagance for a 23rd birthday since it is just another passing phase but my parents think otherwise. They believe this is a special period where I begin to fully experience life, whatever that means.
After a sumptuous meal of fish head curry, mee-siam and other spicy delicacies, we proceed to cut the cake. It is a round sponge cake, spread generously with low fat cream. Around the edges are red sugar roses and in the center are the words, "Happy Birthday" and candles, two tall and three short ones.
"What did you wish for?" Peter ask, standing beside me as I slice the cake into equal parts while he helps me with the distribution.
"Nothing you would want to know." I evade the question, giving him a sly wink.
He poke me in the ribs and says," Aww, don't keep me in suspense."
"Like you are dying to know." I roll my eyes at him. He grins at me foolishly.
"So how come Selena is not here yet?" I ask off-handedly.
Peter's eyes widen with shock and replies," Eh....she's busy."
"Did you remind her about the party? I called her this afternoon but she
wasn't around to take it so I left a message." I question, examining Peter closely as his eyes avoid my piercing stare. There is a hint of fear in them that I have never seen. Something is wrong.
"I...I...oh, look we are running out of cake." He indicates, pointing at the empty plates on the table.
I give him a knowing smile, silently telling him that his ploy is not working and dump some more cake onto the plates.
"Well, it's still early. I guess there is a chance she will come. Don't you
think so, Peter?" I ask, watching as Peter retreats to a group consisting of Betty, Ravi and some of the old friends from the volleyball team.
"Cherie, I see you frighten our little buddy away. What did you say to him?" Antonio's rich, sexy voice says. I straighten my back abruptly, bracing for the wicked tremors of pleasure that he seems to be able to cause every time.
"I did not say anything obscene to him. It's none of your business anyway." I say, tempering the tone so that it doesn't sound too hostile. No point antagonizing him until I know his intentions for coming to my rescue that night at Venom.
"Zounds, but your friends are as good as mine, my little darling." He reverts to his Latin accented speech that only multiplies his charm.
I have no comments on that but he doesn't seem to care.
"But baby, aren't you a bit too sweet on him? He is your friend." He asks, brushing away non-existent dust on my shoulders.
"Don't touch me. So what? And enough of that baby, darling stuff. " I shoot back, daring him to question my freedom to make friends.
"Don't you know, ma chere? Husbands get jealous too. I don't want to see you
getting too intimate with another." He answers smoothly. Too smooth, almost like he is warning me.
"We are not married! Watch what you say, we have guests around." I retort, keeping down the anger that is churning to life within me.
"But we are going to be! Soon, very soon. Uncle Jeremy wants me to be prepared
for it." He smiles devastatingly at me, displaying his white teeth and exuding confidence.
The man is unbelievable! A dozen insults rise to my mouth but I force them back, reminding myself that it is pointless to bother with such an insufferable oaf. What if he is provoked to bond me? I may be strong enough to stop him and my parents are around but an antagonized shapeshifter is like a mad bull, there is nothing he will not do. The last altercation with him still terrifies me. I pick up a plate of cake and leave. Behind me, I can hear Antonio laughing. There is not a single bone of kindness in that monster!
"Hey all, how's it going?" I ask politely.
My colleagues and friends turn to me expectantly and smile. Peter is among them and he seems to have forgotten about our conversation earlier on.
"Just catching up with what you are doing." A rough voice says, its Swee Hock. He was one of the two main attackers on the varsity volleyball team.
Everyone laughs, as if sharing a common joke.
"What's so funny?" I pretend to sound indignant. That only makes them laugh harder.
"Oh like, how come we never get to see your girlfriend and why your parents,
especially Duvre, still seem to look after you as if you are a 14 year old
teenager. You are 23, aren't you?" Ravi answers, patting me on the shoulder.
"Oh Stef doesn't have a girlfriend because he works like a dog, silly." Betty injects with humor, covering up for me.
"And Mr. Mcloughlin is concerned that's all. Doesn't your mother nags at you
when you are home late, Ravi?" Peter joins in.
I nod at Betty and Peter to show my appreciation for their help.
Just then, the doorbell rings.
"I'll get it." I call out.
I open the door and peer out into the dimly light night. There is a lady at the gate. I look closer and find that its Selena. Depressing the green button to unlock the gates automatically, I run to welcome her, unable to contain the joy at seeing her.
"Selena! What a surprise!!" I exclaim.
"Hi Stefan." She says coldly. I quirk an eyebrow, puzzled at her sudden unfriendliness. We have not been the best of friends but the last time I have spoken with her, she is warm and friendly. Maybe she is tired rushing here after work on such short notice.
"Are you okay? You seem a little shagged out." I state, observing that she is worrying her lips.
"Not..No..I am fine." She pauses, on the verge of relating something vital, but decides not to.
I inspect her appearance closely. Her office suit and skirt is a dark red, as the gate lights illuminate the inkish black driveway. Beneath the suit is a white blouse with frills around the neck that looks yellowed with age under the orange glow from the lamps. Her face is strained as if she is trying to control her feelings. Fury, hatred and contempt. Stray wisps of hair dangle loosely from her long, black mane. Her eyes behold me like I am some animal, about to consume her and she is ready to do battle to the bitter end. An icy shiver travels down my body.
"Why not come into the house? There's still plenty of cake and food left." I offer, extending a hand to pull her along.
She flinches at my touch on her hands and steps back. Hastily, she opens her bag and takes out a box wrapped in a colorful paper with pictures of teddy bears printed on it. There is a lovely silver ribbon at the top. A present. She hands the gift to me and heads back, out of the gates.
"Is...Peter in there?" She asks just before she leaves.
"Stefan, who is it?" Peter's loud voice booms. That answers her question. I shrug my shoulders. Now is as good a time as any for them to trash out their differences.
"YOU...Witch!" Selena screams before I excuse myself, so she and Peter can have some privacy.
I stand there stunned into inaction. What does she mean by that?! I glare at Peter accusingly. How can he betray me?
Peter shakes his head vigorously and says, "No...I did not tell her, Stef."
"Tell me what? THAT..that.." She breathes in, her chests expanding rapidly as she tries to compose herself.
"NO...Selena, please.." Peter begs, looking at Selena with panic-stricken eyes. His palm opens and grasp the air, like a person drowning, trying to seek help.
"NO?! HOW DARE YOU! DID YOU CARE HOW I FELT?!" Selena cries out, tears running down her cheeks as the dam around her heart collapses.
"Please...please...I will tell him when the time is right." Peter pleads.
"You mean you HAVEN'T told him?!" She shouts, her animosity rising higher.
Shock slams into my brain like a bolt of lightning. What is going on here? The quarrel has attracted a small crowd at the door, some of them murmuring. I try to reach out to Selena, thinking to save her from embarrassment by dragging her towards the gate. She pushes me away fiercely. I stagger back by her sudden rejection but is caught in Peter's arms before I hit the ground. That seems to provoke her.
"YOU....THE....OH MY GOD!!" She yells, pointing her fingers viciously at us. Flames burning in her eyes as her face contorts into a painful sneer.
Then just as unprecedented as her outburst, she quiets down, wiping her face to remove the tear stains. Blasting us with a final look of hate, she strides out of the gates, holding her head high like a queen. I can only look on with astonishment. Peter's hands are quivering and I can hear his harsh breathing.
"Are you guys alright?" Betty's cool hands surround us as she helps us up.
I nod. Peter tightens his hold on her shoulders.
"I think the two of you should go to Stefan's bedroom. I will stay to help
break up the party. " Betty says.
We walk slowly to my room, avoiding the bewildered frowns of the guests. On the way, Dad and Papa scan my face for any sign of distress, I shake my head to set their minds at ease. Antonio looks frustrated and anxious to break up Peter and I, but is stopped by Papa. I pay him no attention because my mind is reeling with too many confused thoughts as it is. I close the door behind Peter and walk woodenly to the bathroom to rinse my face. By the time I am back in the room, Peter is sitting on the bed rubbing his hands apprehensively.
"Suppose you tell me what that is all about, buddy?" I tread over to the bed on bare feet and sits close to him.
"The witch part? I did not tell her. I really do not know how she knows, I swear!" He holds up three fingers to make his point.
"Then how do you explain why Selena behaved the way she did?" I demand, rubbing my neck to release the tension in them.
"Maybe..maybe...the witch is just a remark....and well..she..uh.is upset
that's all." Peter timidly provides.
"Come on, Peter, for the sake of the Goddess, we are like blood brothers.
Surely you do not intend to hide anything from me?" I ask again, grabbing his arms, squeezing them to show that I will support him in whatever he does.
Peter quakes and moves apart from me some more before replying," Its because we are almost family that....that..makes it so difficult."
Tears well up in his eyes as he shies away to cover his face.
"What's so difficult?" I ask with concern.
"I...uhm...I...I......"
"Yes?"
"I..am...in..."
"Yes? You are what, Peter?" I say, a little annoyed.
"I'm in love with you, Stefan!" Peter pounces and hugs me with sudden force.
"Wha...Are you drunk?" I inquire incredulously. I push him away, looking into eyes that are swimming with unshed tears.
"No.....I love you, that's the reason why I broke up with Selena." He says.
That explains. The despise, the anger, the name calling. The way she flares up when Peter holds me in his arms to break my fall. No, this cannot be true.
"Uh..Peter are you sure? I mean you are straight, you cannot possibly like
men, more or less me. God knows I have seen you make passes at girls and
date some of them, aside from Selena. If you are seeing another girl, I
can understand. Is this some sick joke that Selena and you have decided to
play on me?" I chuckle without conviction, wishing that this is all a prank.
He shakes his head and answers, a drop of tear sliding down his cheek," I am not lying to you, Stef. Yes, I like girls and I have always make it known that I go for beautiful women. Their breasts attract me. But I know beneath this facade, I like men too. The fantasies that I have of the other volleyball team members in the shower room when we bathe after the practices; the surreptitious glances at men's dicks when they pee, wondering how they would feel in my mouth; the admiration of hard flesh in the gyms."
I block my ears with both hands. Why is this happening?!
"But I have kept them hidden for all these years until I met you. Your
coming out then had stirred me to explore my thoughts further. Of course,
I didn't know I had fallen for you. But since then, I had neglected Selena.
It was as if my interests in her were fading gradually. In the past, at least
there was the neutral topic of competition and volleyball. Lately, we had
nothing common to talk about and when we do, it would always end up in a fight.
I found excuses to not go on dates with her and when she took up the new post,
I supported her decision whole-heartedly, even though I knew that would mean
less time for the both of us."
"When...did you realize you.....like me?" I squeak, my voice hardly louder than the scraping noise of a mouse.
"I dunno. I think I liked you since Orientation but only begun to love you
after you came out. I wasn't lying when I told you I was appalled. It was
scary, the possibility of men loving men, but I reasoned it didn't make you
much less the person you were. But as I got used to your being gay, so were
my feelings for you exposed. I tried to deny them, I tried, I really did." More tears are starting to flow, as Peter struggles to hold them back.
I rest his head on my shoulders, stroking his hair, trying to comfort him. My eyes are starting to turn red.
"I compelled myself to think of you as my brother but it was no use. Everyday
I was finding new things about you that I loved. Even now, your smile warms
my heart and your voice is my inspiration, each word motivates me to take on
life's challenges bravely."
I weep, letting out all my longings in a continuous stream of warm, salty tears. Never has anyone spoken such touching words to me with so much eloquence.
"But...how?...why?..." my voice quavered with emotions.
"Remember how you only told me half of the story about that Christmas night?" He says, trying to smile through the tears.
The deities help me but I know what Peter is driving at.
"I had been cracking my head over it, since you did not seem inclined to
reveal much. I was pacing up and down the house so much, retracing the scene,
that my parents thought I was too stressed out with work. It was only
when I sat on the sofa and chanced upon the photo of the volleyball team
that the memories begun to come back. At first, it was only a trickle, images
of guys lounging back, watching television. Then when I saw James and Patrick
blowing each other off, everything flooded back like a river in spate."
He swipes my tears off with his coarse fingers.
"I recalled you masturbating me and how much I enjoyed the sensation of your
hands on my sex, giving me pleasure. I had never felt this way before." He shakes violently, his mind lost in the recollection.
"That was when I had doubts about our friendship, suspecting that there was
more to it. My affection for you grew. I was forever looking forward to
the fortnightly meetings. I felt ashamed because I was living a lie but happy
for once in my lifetime, I had a clear idea what I wanted in my partner. I
didn't know what to do. Then one day, I decided to end the misery and told
Selena the truth. She raved and ranted like a lunatic but when that was over
I felt relieved, as if a burden had been lifted off my shoulders." He is crying freely, his arms encircling me in a fierce embrace.
For long moments, we hold each other in this manner, giving understanding and receiving comfort. Our trance-like state is shattered only when we hear a soft knock on the door. Light peeps through the slightly ajar door as Betty pops her head in.
"How are you guys coping?" She says, overlooking the fact that our hands are still locked together.
"Hey you." I manage to whisper.
"Most of the others have left but I assume they will be pestering either of
you for details. Antonio is livid because both of you are in here for too
long, but has gone home after being reprimanded by Jeremy."
"Stef dear, in case you need to apply for another day off, you know my number
in the office." Betty provides helpfully.
"Thanks for the help, Bett" Peter acknowledges.
"Don't mention it." With that, she closes the door.
"What are we going to do now?" Peter looks at me, using the sleeve of his gray polyester shirt to dry the tears on my face.
"This is complete chaos, Peter. I need time to think through." I try to say, my voice cracking.
"I know buddy. No pressure. I guess I will make a move first." He stands up and adjusts his clothes, then presses a brief kiss on my forehead before walking out of the room.
I flop back onto the bed and close my eyes, willing sleep to claim me.
D. Wolfe (Part II), Family Troubles
I touch the charm around my neck. It is a green and blue prism swinging on a necklace of jasmine flower buds and is used to focus the calming energy of Spirit to stabilize my faltering sense of tranquility. The past few days have been sheer torture as I am constantly tormented by Peter's confession. I cannot concentrate on my work as prurient thoughts of him clogs up my mind. I have lied my way through when Eddie and Jason bugged me about the confrontation with Selena, explaining that it is all a misunderstanding and I have no business to know why because its between Peter and her.
Can I still see him as my friend without thinking of having sex with him? How am I supposed to face Selena, being the third party in their relationship, regardless of whether I am the direct or indirect cause? I like Peter for the way he treats others as if they are special but is that love?
My work has suffered as a result of my being distracted. Its a matter of time before my boss notices it. It was a rainy afternoon, around 5:30 PM and the air-conditioning in the office was freezing cold when he summoned me to his office.
"Stef dear, Slavey is hopping mad about your proposal for the new tender.
He wants you in his office right now." Betty said over the phone.
"Shit, what did I do this time?" I cursed, replacing the receiver.
I rode the lift to the 15th floor and alighted. Betty snapped her fingers at me from her desk while I was making my way to the Managing Director's office.
"Slavedriver looks prepared to chop off anyone's heads. I think you will
probably have to work overtime again, dear. There will be dinner on my
desk. Fried noodles or fast food? " She said, making notes on a scheduler.
"Fried noodles will be fine." I answered and was about to leave when she asked, " I have been meaning to ask you this, do you like fried rice?"
"Why do you ask?" I replied.
"Oh because I had to throw away a packet of rice that I left you the last time
you were made to come up here." She said evenly, her gaze not wandering from what she was jotting down on the scheduler.
Frowning, I tried to recall when this was. I drew a blank.
"Well, must be I forgot about it or something. I am not choosy about food." I answered, shrugging my shoulders.
"Is he here yet, Betty?" Wolfe's harsh voice came over the intercom.
"He is here, Mr. Addams. Please hold on while I get him to step into your
office." She pressed a green button to switch off the machine.
"Welp guess that's my call. Thanks for the dinner in advance, Bett" I said and headed for the large room to the north. Butterflies floated in my belly as I imagined Wolfe's sharp tongue lashing out at me mercilessly.
The immense space and contrasting color themes always seemed to make me feel oppressed. The paintings of wars on the walls prophesied my doom. The domineering man behind the mahogany desk was the personification of death itself. He did not look up as the door behind swung shut.
"What is the matter, Mr. Addams?" I inquired politely, gripping the calming charm firmly in my right hand.
He continued to ignore my presence. I pulled back a chair, even though the floor was carpeted, the friction between the legs and it seemed to screeched in the brittle silence. I hesitated, afraid that I had been too presumptuous. Still no reaction from Slavedriver. I decided to sit down as quietly as possible.
"Is there something wrong with the proposal, Mr. Addams?" I phrased the question more specifically this time.
He snapped up his head and glared at me. I swallowed uncomfortably.
"I'm glad you asked, Stefan." He sneered, sending a piercing look of displeasure at me.
"Why not you take a look at it?" He said and threw a file onto the desk.
I picked up the file and skimmed through the contents. There were hundreds of typo errors, wrong figures and missing paragraphs. It looked more like a bad academic report than a professional proposal. My face flushed a bright red.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Addams." I looked at him guiltily. He seemed absorbed with his work again. I repeated myself.
"Redo the entire thing and I want it on my desk by tomorrow." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. I took the file and hurried out of the office, faintly surprised that he did not give me the stinging diatribe I had expected.
It was sometime around 8 PM that the phone on my desk rang.
Thinking that it was Betty, I picked it up and said, "Hey you."
"Stefan is that you?" An earthy voice came over the receiver. Its my boss!
"Uh...Sorry Mr. Addams. I thought you were a friend of mine. Is there
anything I can do for you?" I asked.
"Do you care to go for dinner? There are some stuff I think we should
talk about." He replied.
"Sure." I complied, erroneously believing that it had to do with the proposal.
We agreed on pizza at his place. I picked up the box of fried noodles on Betty's table before we left. He drove me to his condominium, on the way ordering pizza using his Motorola cellular phone. By the time we arrived at his home, the delivery boy was waiting to collect his money. He paid for the food and unlocked the door. His house was sparsely furnished and clothes were strewn on the sofa and on the table. Cushions laid carelessly on the floor. I cast a disdainful glance at the mess but held back my comments on his cleanliness.
I cleared out a small space around the sofa and a low rectangular table before the television set. We were half-way through our meal when Slavedriver broke the silence. He had removed his tie and was slouching on the sofa, munching on the crusts of the pizza. There was something familiar about the purple floral design on the tie.
"Stefan, were you the one who found me drunk in the office?" He asked.
I regarded him with a puzzled look.
"Remember this?" He pointed to the tie on the sofa.
A click went off in my brains as I connected the question to the memory of that night I had to present my proposal for the first time. I hesitated, twiddling my fingers as I considered the wisdom of telling him the truth. I would lose my job if I told him that I saw him popping pills and was dead drunk in the office.
"Were you?" He reiterated.
After a while, I nodded but added quickly," I did not see much." That sounded lame.
He sighed heavily.
"I suspected as much." His deep baritone voice answered.
"Why did you do it, Mr. Addams?" I asked, allowing curiosity to get the better of me.
His lips formed a bitter smile as he said in a regretful tone," I was feeling low."
I quirked an eyebrow, waiting patiently for him to continue. That was if he wanted to. I didn't like prying into other's business.
"My wife, Sandy, had left me and we were fighting for custody of our son. I
had just received notice that I would be fired after I completed the
projects that I was in charge of." He grated, snatching up the bottle of rum on the table and taking large swallows of it.
I could barely contained my shock. Fired? When Wolfe was doing such a great job? He saw my look of disbelief and went on.
"Sandy was sleeping with the President's son, Terence Buckland. She was
terrified that I would gain custody of our son and had Mr. Buckland stripped
me of my position. I don't blame them but it hurts to give up my son without
putting up a fight. She had met him at a company's ball and I was the one
who did the introductions."
"Sandy was dissatisfied with the life I gave her. She wanted limousines
and expensive fur but I could not provide her with either. I tried to
compensate her loss by taking her overseas to France and California, but
she had grumbled about not being able to fly on our own jet." He drank some more of the liquor.
"When did you find out about the affair?" I asked with sympathy.
"Immediately. She was very bold about it and did not bothered to cover her
tracks." He replied, closing his eyes to block out the sudden memory.
I saw tear drops descending like a rivulet. I had never seen Wolfe cry before. He must had loved his wife very much.
"Doesn't he hate her for what she did?" I wondered, without realizing that I had said it out loud.
"No. I was lucky to have married her. She might had been a prostitute but
she was the best mother in the world. We were living a very happy life
before Mr. Buckland appeared in the picture. But I bear no grudges against
him either. He is much more affluent than me. Sandy will be able to live
the lifestyle that she has always wanted." He replied.
I could not trust my ears. Was this what they meant when they say 'Love Is Blind'?
"So you decided to work and drink yourself numb?" I asked.
He nodded and said," I took painkillers as well because I was suffering from severe headaches. The doctors had warned me that my dosage was excessive."
"I'm really sorry if I have been very pushy lately. I want to get everything
done as soon as possible. Another notice came this morning that I'm to be
fired by next week. I apologize if my attitude was a bit harsh this morning.
I did try to hold back my temper." He dunked the empty bottle onto the sofa and reached out for another.
"I think that's more than enough, Mr. Addams" I suggested, watching as he poured the wine down his throat as if it were plain water.
"Call me Wolfe. Can you promise to keep what happened tonight a secret? I
don't want this to affect the morale of the company." He said.
"Well......" I paused and then consented but not before saying, " Only if you stop taking those painkillers and drinking so much. We need a sober leader to guide us."
"Okay, but this will be the last." He smiled and at that moment I saw that he looked very boyish and cute. My heart skipped a beat and my crotch hardened.
"I have to rush back to finish the report. See you at work tomorrow,
Mr. Addams" I knew I had to get out before he noticed the erection.
"Wolfe." He said.
"Okay. Good night, Wolfe" I said, daring to use his given name for the first time.
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Contents Note: I hope this ties in from the previous threads nicely. Not sure if its clear by now but 'threads' refer to the interaction between Stefan with Antonio, Peter and Wolfe. There are overlappings between each of them because they are still following a main plot, that of Stefan exploring his identity and finding a boyfriend.
This is my first time writing erotic fiction. Any comments, please send to sky_tanek@yahoo.com
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Some terms that may be foreign:
Junior College is the equivalence to High School and Pre-University.
MRT stands for Mass Rapid Transit and is akin to subway trains.
COE is an abbreviation for Certificate of Entitlement. It is a measure implemented by the government to control the number of automobiles in Singapore
Mee-siam is a type of Malay food that is usually cooked with chili, bee-hoon (vermicelli) and dried shrimps.