Later that night, while my sheets and mattress cover were splashing around in the washing machine, Brad and I sat out on the dock. We wore jeans, and jackets against the chill night air. He was leaning against a mooring post, I was sitting with my legs dangling over the edge, his feet in my lap. With his permission I had taken off his old Nike Airs and had been massaging his feet. Now I was taking a rest, lying back on the dock with my fingers laced behind my head, staring up at the starry night sky. He was pointing out shooting stars all over the place, but I wasn’t wearing my contacts so could only pretend to see them.
The heel of one of his feet was heavy on my crotch and my dick was hard beneath it.
“Man, do you know how many times you’ve sucked my dick since we came here?” Brad said.
“I could figure it out,” I said. We were being friends and I had permission to talk freely.
“Twenty seven times. Twenty seven times in less than seven days. That must be a record for a seventeen-year-old, getting his dick sucked by his best friend twenty seven times in six days!”
“I’ve never had my dick sucked.”
“Well, maybe one of these years you’ll get lucky.”
“Yeah.”
We didn’t say anything for a while.
“Did you have a good time with Jen?” I dared to ask at last.
“It was okay.”
“She doesn’t suck cock good, huh?”
“You’re the star, dude, told you that before. Cocksucker to the stars.”
“But…you fucked her?”
“Me and my cousin Danny, we been fucking Jen since she was twelve years old. She taught us how.”
“Wow.”
“Her grandparents liked you. They said you had nice table manners.”
“That’s nice.”
“And if you’re looking for flattery, dude…”
“Yeah?”
“Mrs. H said you’re one of the most beautiful boys she’s ever seen in her whole life.”
I was glad it was too dark for him to see me swell with pleasure. “That sweet grey-haired old lady with the white cane and dark glasses?” I said.
“And the seeing-eye cocker spaniel. Yep, that’s what she said. In her whole entire life. And she’s been around a long time, man, she’s been around since the world began.”
“Tell me another.”
“She dreamed all night of you eating her out.”
“Yech!”
“So did Mr. H. He dreamed all night of you eating him out, too. They couldn’t get over your beauty not to mention what they think of your eating out abilities. Table manners, like my ‘rents say, it’s all about table manners. Course, since I was there, they had to say you weren’t as beautiful as me. They had to do that or they’d have hell to pay when my grandparents get back. So, sorry, dude, I beat you there.”
“Did they want you to eat them both out, too?”
“Nope. I’m just a little too beautiful for that.”
“Well, they’re right. No one’s as beautiful as you.”
“That’s true. And I know you mean it.”
“She really said I’m beautiful?”
“She did, dude. The most beautiful boy she’s ever seen in her entire life, that’s a quote. ‘Course she was blind drunk at the time.”
“No one has ever called me beautiful. No one has ever even called me nice looking.”
“You’re okay. You’d be better with long hair and boobs.”
“What did Jen say about me?”
“She didn’t know who her grandma was talking about, I don’t think she even saw you.”
“I walked in on her making out with her boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah, she did say some dweeb had real bad timing. Guess that was you.”
“Yeah.”
“K, you’ve rested long enough. Get back to my feet.”
I sat up, lifted Brad’s left foot to my lips and kissed his socked toes, then started massaging the sole of his foot.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask.”
“You and Danny, you ever tie each other up?”
Brad took a while to answer. “Mebbe.”
“You’re so good at it. Did you ever… did the two of you ever, like, do together what I do to you?”
He shook his foot out of my hand and slapped my face with it. “I’m never going to tell you the answer to that one so don’t ask again.” He gave me his foot back to massage.
“Okay, sorry. I just…”
“Subject closed. Pick another.”
I shrugged, bent over and kissed his toes again.
“I really own you, dude, don’t I?” Brad said.
I nodded.
“And you like it like that.”
I wasn’t sure it was a question, but I nodded again. In the darkness I wasn’t sure he could even see me nod, but I didn’t trust myself to speak.
“I’m having a nice time right now,” Brad said, “and we’re gonna have a lot more times like this, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna make a habit of being nice to you, dude.”
“I know,” I said. My voice cracked, which annoyed me.
“You don’t even want me to, do you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so just worked harder on his foot, pushing his toes back and forth beneath his sock, stretching them out one by one, bending them over my finger, my hands firm on his feet.
“I’m not as smart as you,” Brad said, “but I do know some things.”
“You’re as smart as me.”
“Look at the way you aced your SATs.”
“You did as good as me in math.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Just an eight point difference.”
“Math’s my best subject, and you did better than me! And I got under 700 on the verbal, dude!”
I shrugged. “Some people are better test takers than others.”
“Don’t argue with me, you little fuck.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not you who’s gonna be taking those tests again.”
“I’ll help you with the verbal, if you want me to.”
“I do and you will. But fuck the tests, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
He paused so long that I had to fill the silence. “Then what are you talking about?” I said, in a small voice. I had a definite feeling I didn’t really want to know.
“I’m just telling you that I know some things. Like I know how you feel about me. And I also know I’m never gonna feel that way about you.”
I wondered if my heart would break. “That’s okay,” I said.
“And this is something else I know: you wouldn’t want me to.”
I wouldn’t? I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t dare contradict him.
Neither of us spoke for a long time. Eventually he’d had enough of my massaging. He pulled his feet out of my lap and brought one foot up to rest on my shoulder. He pressed lightly down on it.
I stared straight ahead at the black slow-rippling water. Brad’s foot pressed down a little harder on my shoulder.
“What would you do if I pushed you into the water right now?”
“I’d fall in.”
“And if I didn’t push you, but I told you to jump in? Just like that? Without taking off your clothes?”
“I’d jump in.”
“Do it.”
I jumped. I didn’t give it a second thought, I just did it, I pushed myself off the dock and plunged into the black water more than six feet below. It wasn’t cold at first, about the same temperature as the night air, maybe even warmer, but I got cold quickly and my clothes filled with water and grew heavy as lead. I should have panicked, but didn’t. I kept my eyes closed and let myself go down in the cold, deep water, then paddled upward hard until I surfaced. I had no idea what had gotten into me, but I wasn’t going to think about that. I felt my way to the mooring post Brad had been leaning against, knowing there was a ladder just a few feet away. I let myself dogpaddle in the direction of the ladder, grabbed for it, found it, and slowly managed to climb it and heave myself back up on the dock, dripping cold water, my clothes pulling me down, heavy and clammy and cold.
I stood on the dock weighted down by my freezing waterlogged clothes, shivering for all I was worth, unable to stop my teeth from chattering.
Brad was furious. “You dumb fuck!” he shouted in my face. “You dumb stupid fuck, you’re gonna kill yourself! You’re gonna get your death of cold and your mom’s gonna kill you, she’s gonna kill both of us! Go back to the house and take a hot shower and change your fuckin’ clothes! If anyone’s gonna kill you, it’s me!” He followed me all the way back to the house, shouting.
“You told me to,” I protested, as I ran up the lawn, squishing in my sopping socks and shoes.
“Asshole! Fuckin’ moron! Jesus Christ, dude, if I told you to jump off a ten storey building, would you do it?! There could have been a boat down there, you could have broken your stupid fuckin’ neck!”
“There was no boat down there,” I called back, through chattering teeth.
“But there could have been, you dumb fuck! You think I want you to fuckin’ kill yourself? What fuckin’ good would you be to me then?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’re sorry, I don’t give a shit if you’re sorry. Fuck you, you stupid faggot, When you get dry I’m gonna beat your ass till you won’t know if you’re coming or going! Stop! Stop where you are! Don’t move another inch!” I was at the entrance to the kitchen door. “Take off your clothes, everything! I don’t want you dripping all over the house! Take it all off!”
With every motion I made as I pulled off my clothes a new frozen section of wet clothing slapped against a different part of my body. The cold wetness was terrible, and the breeze from the chill night air that hit my increasingly naked wet body made me colder still as each piece of clothing fell to the ground. Finally I pulled off my sneakers, which seemed to weigh ten pounds each, then my soaking socks.
“Leave it all there! Get in the fuckin’ house and into a fuckin’ hot shower right away! And stay there till I tell you you can get out!”
I ran through the house, which was air conditioned but a little warmer than outside, into the bathroom and into the shower. My hands were shaking so hard I could hardly turn on the shower tap, but at last it did come on, a blast of cold water which slowly turned warmer, then got mercifully hot, then unbearably hot. I adjusted the water to a temperature I could stand and little by little, with the hot water beating down on me, I began to feel human again.
Five or ten minutes later, with the water still running, I pushed the shower door open a crack. Brad was sitting on the lid of the toilet seat with a large fluffy towel in his hands.
“Can I come out now?”
“Turn off the water. Here.” He handed me the towel. “Dry yourself.”
I started drying myself in the shower stall, which was still warm and steamy, then got out and onto a bathmat where I finished the job. Brad sat on the toilet seat lid and watched me, which made me self conscious. In the end I stood in front of him, wrapped up in the towel, trying to smile but beginning to shiver again.
“I’m cold,” I said.
“Stupid shit,” he said, but he got up and wrapped his arms around me, and holding me like that walked me into the bedroom. He pulled the blanket off his bed, made me drop the damp towel and swaddled me in the blanket like a papoose. He practically carried me to his bed and laid me down there, since my mattress was bare, my cumstained sheets in the washing machine. He tucked the blanket around my feet, then banged around in the closet, emerging with a sleeping bag which he unrolled and unzipped and managed to work me into, then zipped up to my shoulders. The bag laced around the neck and he pulled the lace till the bag was close around my neck, then tied it. My head lay on the open hood.
“This’ll warm you up,” Brad said. “It’s an arctic sleeping bag, good till 500 below, or something like that.”
My arms were held tightly at my sides in the blanket and I felt like a mummy.
“Thank you,” I whispered, already feeling warmer.
He lay down beside me, grabbed my own blanket off the floor and covered me with it, then got under the blanket himself, turned on his side and threw an arm and a leg over me.
For a while, even covered like that, my shivering continued to shake the bed, but slowly I got warm. I loved Brad lying there, holding me, holding me down. I wanted to cry but wouldn’t. “I’m sorry,” I said.
“Shut up, you dumb shit,” Brad said, He grabbed the towel off the floor and rubbed my head vigorously with it, since my hair was still damp.
Except for my sore throat, which I was kind of used to by now, I felt as good as I’d ever felt in my life. I was all wrapped up in Brad’s blanket and Brad was holding me tight, keeping me warm with his body on mine, his breath a warm breeze on my neck. “Master?”
“What?”
“I’m feeling better now. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, shithead. Got anything else to say?”
“No, Master.”
“Well I do. I ever tell you to do something stupid like that again, don’t you even think of doing it. I may beat the shit out of you if you don’t do it, I may beat your ass till you’re black and blue and wish you were dead, but that’s just the chance you gotta take, you stupid asshole faggot crybaby.”
“I’m not a crybaby,” I whispered.
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“That’ll be the day. Now I’m gonna tell you somethin’ else. You’re due for a real bad spanking, over my knee, and maybe with a hairbrush. You’re gonna get it tomorrow, and you’re gonna ask me for it, too, you hear me, fairy boy?”
“Yes, Master.”
“You’re gonna be the judge of when that’s gonna happen. But when you’re ready, and you better not let me wait too long, you’re gonna bring me my hairbrush and beg me to put you over my knee and spank the shit out of you, K?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Master,” I whispered.
“And take my word for it, I’m gonna beat your ass hard.”
He reached over to turn out the light switch behind the bed, then stopped. “You wearing your contacts?” he said.
“No, Master, I took them out before you tied me up this afternoon.”
“Then go to sleep.”
“Night, Master.”
He put his hand in front of my mouth. “Lick,” he said. I licked his palm. He slapped my face with his damp palm. “Dumb fuck,” he said, then pulled the drawstrings of the sleeping bag hood my head was lying on all the way around my head and over my face till the hood closed over my eyes and my mouth, and only my nose stuck out. He tied the hood closed.
He covered my body again with an arm and a leg and I felt him lower his head on my shoulder to sleep.
As a longtime silent reader, I simply must finally comment on this chapter.
I've got to admit I've had a hard time agreeing with how harsh Brad treats Bobby, and more than once I'd like to see him crushed under a mack truck for his cruelty.
But now, a glimmer of concern on his part towards his prized possession (and actually, how often does one get to own another human being--particularly when you're a young teen?).
The way he tells Bobby that he has the right to NOT do everything he orders. The way he sits outside the shower with a towel, waiting.
* * *
“I’m cold,” I said.
“Stupid shit,” he said, but he got up and wrapped his arms around me, and holding me like that walked me into the bedroom.
* * *
Almost sweet. Could Brad be a human being after all?
Posted by: lurker | March 19, 2008 at 09:13 PM