Part 3 of the story of D'n'M, just like Parts 1 and 2, includes sex between teenage boys, some of it non-consensual. As before, it is the characters themselves and how they react to events that are key to whatever success the story achieves.
All the characters and events in the story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at:
pjalexander1753@gmail.com
PJ
D'n'M Part 3
From Chapter 5:
"Do you know if there's ever been a gay guy on the team?"
There was a pause. A long pause. Two more muscled Spartans bit the sand, blood oozing from gaping wounds. Milo could feel his own heart beating faster in his chest. Dods remained silent. Small beads of sweat started to form on Milo's upper lip. Crap! Had he got it wrong? Had he blown it? Was Dods the standard, closed-minded, prejudiced jock after all?
Chapter 6:
Milo was compelled to fill the gap, to put an end to the silence. "It's just, I was reading in the new copy of World of Swimming and Diving that there aren't many out professional athletes around but a lot of them that are, out I mean, are swimmers and divers."
"You mean like Tom Daley?" Milo was relieved to hear Dods finally break his silence.
"Yeah, and Abrahm DeVine. He's out. And Matthew Mitcham. He won an Olympic gold and he's out too. So I started thinking, if there are lots of gay elite swimmers, the odds must be high that there are gay guys on swimming teams in schools like Greenside." Milo's voice trailed off, unsure how to continue, wondering if he'd said too much, left too many clues.
Again Dods took his time before responding.
"You seem to know a lot about gay swimmers. Why suddenly interested to know about the team?" Could Milo hear an edge to Dods' voice with that question? Even a coldness that hadn't been there before? His newly-shaved armpits were suddenly feeling damp.
"Well, like I say, there was this article I read. It was interesting that's all. It's no big deal. Let's just drop it." Milo couldn't move the conversation on quickly enough. He turned his rapidly-flushing face back to the screen and started clicking the buttons on his controller. The game continued. Milo kept glancing over towards Dods. He was sure he could sense an atmosphere in the room that hadn't been there before. How could he have been so stupid? Everything had been going great. He had genuinely thought Dods was an okay guy. Now he wasn't sure of that at all. And if he had worked out that Milo was gay, what then? Would he tell the other members of the squad, with all the consequences that might have? Or, just like Zephan, would he expect Milo to provide him with favours, like an open mouth - or worse - to ensure he kept quiet? The prospect tied his stomach in a terrified knot.
Milo could feel the fear. It was spreading out from his gut, up into his chest and down towards his legs. He knew he ought to just get up and get out but he was also 100% sure that if he tried to stand his legs would simply ignore any `get moving' messages coming from his brain. He was stuck where he was on Dods' bedroom floor. He had no control over what would happen next.
Eventually Dods broke the silence. "When I first came into the squad it was the start of a new season and Tom Reed had just been made captain. All the guys seemed pretty cool but even I could tell - me, a newbie - that it wasn't what you'd call a proper team. Something was off. There was no togetherness, no ... what's the word? ... yeah, comradeship. Know what I mean? Definitely no Cum Brothers!" Dods half smiled. Milo stayed completely still, not wanting to distract Dods from his story, not even glancing in his direction, not wanting to have the spotlight turn back onto himself. The knot in his stomach may have got smaller but it had not gone away.
"There were guys who never spoke to other guys, never cheered them on, never hung out together, never sat near them on the bus to away competitions. I thought it was typical high school cliques, you know, older guys not having anything to do with younger ones, that sort of mindless shit. That first season we were crap, barely won anything. You could tell that Ms. Boyeda knew something was not right but didn't know how to fix it. And Tom, as captain, he was getting a lot of grief from everyone. Even now I don't know how he kept his cool. If I'd been him I'd have really blown it, probably done something totally stupid. But not Tom."
"So what happened?" Milo couldn't help himself. Much as he wanted to keep a low profile he couldn't resist the lure of Dods' story. He was talking about a swimming team he didn't recognise at all.
"One day, it was the first weekend practice after the Christmas break, I got there a few minutes late. I was sure I was screwed and was gonna get it both barrels from the Ballbreaker. You know what she's like about being on time."
Milo nodded. The knot was beginning to loosen.
Dods continued, his tone of voice tense and serious. Milo had no choice but to listen. "But when I walked into the locker room, at first I couldn't work why it felt different. Something was out of whack but I didn't know what. Then it hit me and I realised what was wrong." He paused.
"What was it?"
"When you go into the locker room, what's the first thing you notice?"
Milo thought about it for a few seconds before he replied to Dods' question with a hint of laughter in his voice. "The smell?" This wasn't an entirely flippant answer. The locker room smell -- teenage boy feet, spray deodorant, chlorine, lingering farts, damp towels and overworked drains - they all combined to create a powerful impact on entry.
"No, dumbass, the noise. That's what you notice when you first go in, or rather, you don't notice it because you're so used to it, from when you first go to high school, it's what you expect. But that day, when I walked in hoping to sneak up to my locker without anyone noticing I was late, there was not a sound. No, that's not true, there was water dripping in the showers -- drip, drip, drip. But apart from that it was totally silent. I was spooked."
Milo could quite believe it. He'd never been in the locker room at school when it had been anything other than an echoing cacophony of shouting, laughter, obscenities and countless other, indistinguishable mashed-up noises. The first few times, as a little kid, it had all been pretty intimidating but after a while it became familiar, normal, almost comforting. He could imagine how weird it must have been for Dods walking in to the complete opposite -- the absence of that expected familiarity.
Dods continued. "I didn't know what to do. I didn't even know if anyone else was there, it was so quiet. But as I got nearer to the locker area itself, then I could hear a voice, a guy's voice, young - so obviously not the Ballbreaker - but I couldn't make out the words cos he was speaking quietly. You know, like when someone really wants you to listen to what they're saying, so they don't talk loud, they talk quiet so you've got no choice but to pay attention."
Milo nodded. He exactly knew. There were teachers who did that when they wanted the class to really get the message.
"Well it was like that. And it meant I wanted to hear too, so I crept forward till I got to the turn in the corridor that leads into the main changing area. You know where I mean."
Milo nodded.
"So, yeah, I got there and looked round, just hoping to sneak in and not get spotted, but I reckon I could have been the Incredible Hulk standing there and no-one would have taken any notice. It was like being the Invisible Man. It was weird. Everyone, the whole squad (`cept me of course) was sitting round on the benches, even the Ballbreaker, and they were all looking at Tom who was right at the far end, by the showers. And he was talking to them all but, like I say, really low and quiet and you could tell that they were paying attention, like they were magnetised or something, as if it was the most fascinating thing anyone had ever said to them."
Milo nodded. The words Dods was using were creating a picture in his head. "And? What was he saying?"
"At first it didn't make any sense. He would look at someone and say something like, Can you help having blue eyes?' or Can you stop being Hispanic?' or Is it your fault you're a twin?' Of course, the guys he spoke to all shook their heads like they'd been asked the dumbest question ever. Then Tom carried on, his voice still kind of low and sort of reassuring. He looked at some other guys and asked them stuff. Would it be fair if you got beaten up for being left-handed? For having curly hair? For liking Taylor Swift?' Someone started laughing at that one but one look from Tom soon shut him up."
Milo was having trouble now, trying to get a handle on this description of Tom. What Dods was describing was a side of D's brother that he had never seen. But when he thought the whole thing over later, he didn't have any problem believing everything Dods had said. Yes, on reflection, Tom could take control of a situation, grab people's attention by the force of his personality, even have a teacher nodding at his every word.
"So, then what?"
"Then he asked the guys what it means to be part of a team, not just in a team, but really part of it. At first no-one said anything, but then someone, one of the younger guys I think it was, said it means being supportive. Is he right?' Tom asked. Guys nodded. So being supportive, right. Anything else?' Rees, one of the 100 fly guys said it was about having everyone's back. Is he right?' asked Tom. There was more nodding and some guys called out saying, Yeah,' and, He's right.' Then Tom again, Being supportive and having everyone's back. What else?' Then DuRoy Watts stood up. He's left school now and is on a sports scholarship somewhere. It means accepting guys for who or what they are. You don't have to like them but, on a team, you accept them.' Then he sat down, looking round as if he was waiting for someone to disagree. I looked at him and he had tears in his eyes, real tears. How weird is that? By now everyone was calling out, agreeing, saying, Yeah,' and That's right,' and stuff like that."
Milo was completely caught up with the drama of Dods' account of what had gone on in the locker room that day, and, as he began to join the dots, the general picture started to take shape in his head but he wasn't sure what, exactly, would be in the final frame. He was tempted to interrupt and ask a question but Dods carried on before Milo could speak.
"Tom waited for everyone to quieten down and then he went over to DuRoy and put one hand on his shoulder. Being accepted is important to you, eh Du?' We all knew what he meant cos DuRoy was the only really black guy on the team. His family had moved here from Barbados, but it had never been an issue, at least, not that I ever saw. DuRoy nodded and wiped his eyes. Then Tom turned back to the group. So,' he said, let me get this right. Every guy here agrees that you can't be blamed for how you're born and definitely shouldn't get any sort of grief for it. And every guy here agrees that being a real member of any team means being supportive of everyone, having their back and being accepting. Have I got all that right?' There were nods and, Yeahs' all round the room. `Does anyone not agree?' Tom asked and no-one moved or said anything."
Milo moved. He had to stretch his legs. He noticed that he still had the game controller in his hand but that the screen had timed out. Dods turned his head from side to side and rubbed the back of his neck. He looked across to Milo who unconsciously nodded. It was obvious that Dods was near the crux of his story but Milo was still unable to predict the final outcome.
"'So how is it,' Tom asked, and now his voice started to get louder and to echo round the locker room, and the look on his face was like he'd walked in dog shit. `How is it that there are guys, members of this team sitting here, in this room, now, who last night went out and beat up two other members of this team? Beat them up to scare them off, not enough to do any major damage but enough. And why? What did those two guys do to deserve being attacked like that?'" Dods paused, obviously deeply affected by the events he was describing, clearly fighting to keep hold of his emotions.
Eventually he drew a deep breath and carried on. "Then I looked round and realised that not every member of the team was there, like I'd thought, there were two of the freestylers missing. I knew straight away that they had to be the two that Tom was talking about. These two guys were always part of the group that the others never hung out with. Then Tom really got into it. He was amazing. 'These two guys,' he said, who we all know, who we train with all the time, who we shower with every day, who never did anything to hurt anyone else in this room, these two ordinary guys got beaten up,' and then Tom waited and looked around the room, stared at every one of us in turn -- man it was scary - and it seemed like forever before he carried on. Because they're gay, that's why. Gay. G-A-Y. Gay. And someone saw them in the park, holding hands, and thought it would be a good idea to send a text for people to come on over and then to teach them that real jocks can't be like that and to rough them up and tell them they're not welcome and never to come back to the team.' And then it looked as if Tom couldn't say any more, even though it was obvious that he had plenty more to say, but DuRoy got up and stood next to him and Jake Jabowsky, who was vice-captain then, and they stood, one on each side, and Jake put his hand on Tom's shoulder and that seemed to be enough for him to carry on. So where was the support? Where was having their back? Where was the acceptance?' And by now no-one was looking at him. They were looking at the floor or at their fingers or over his head. It felt like it does when the biggest and worst thunderstorm is about to burst. I'm talking about a high school swimming team in the twenty first century - my high school, my swimming team -- and I feel disgusted. I feel sick with shame. I feel like I don't know any of you, and more than half of you I've been friends with for at least the last ten years. The name-calling and stupid stunts like freezing out those guys and their friends was bad enough, and God knows how hard Ms. Boyeda and me have been working to put a stop to that, but this? It's not even a joke.' Bro, he was so riled up. And everyone just sat there and listened. It was awesome. Tom was awesome."
It felt, to Milo, as if Dods had come to the end of his story, but surely it couldn't end there. What happened next?
"What happened next?"
"Well, then Ms. Boyeda stood up and said she agreed with every word Tom had spoken, especially the part about feeling disgusted and ashamed. Then she said that she and the Principal knew exactly who had been involved, that those guys were to stay sitting where they were while everyone else should stand up and go back out into the corridor. And that's just what happened. And do you know what?"
Milo shook his head.
"The five guys who stayed behind, they were all senior members of the squad but they didn't much get selected for competitions, but the two they beat up were regular starters. Figure that out!" The last three words Dods spoke with real venom. "And that's how Tom Reed pretty much single-handedly turned the team around."
"Yeah, Tom's a genuinely amazing guy. He really helped D when he was so cut up after Roberts." But Milo couldn't leave the story there, without a proper ending. "So what happened to all the guys involved?"
"Okay, so the five thugs, their parents were all called into school and then they were suspended, and when they came back they all had to make a public apology to the whole squad. Then they were banned from competing in any sport right up to when they left school."
"And the two who got beaten up?"
"They were lucky that they weren't hurt really badly, no broken bones or anything like that, just a few bruises and scrapes. Shit scared though. After the suspension and apology and stuff they said that was enough punishment and they didn't want to press charges. Me, I'd have wanted their balls cut off, but maybe it was for the best cos after that everything about the team felt better. We even started winning more often than we lost."
"So a happy ending," responded Milo.
"Yeah, it was all good." Dods glanced at his phone, suddenly becoming very animated and business-like. "Hey dude, it's late and I need to eat before I go out -- hot date tonight, y'know. You gotta go."
Milo scrambled to his feet. He had no idea time had moved on so far. Dods put out a hand and Milo hauled him upright. Dods pulled him into a tight hug.
"Cool hanging out with you, M. CB! We'll do it again, and soon." Milo grinned broadly. "Now go!"
Cycling home, it was like Milo's thoughts were in a blender, there was so much to think about and it was all scrambled together. It wasn't just Dods' story about the beating up and the way Tom had sorted it; there was the shaving and the fantastic cum and becoming a Cum Brother (that was a total wow!), and hanging out with Dods and how he'd been able to forget, for a few hours, about Zephan's imminent arrival. There was so much to tell D when he phoned him tonight they'd be talking for hours. But then, they often did.
Thanks to all those who have taken the time and trouble to write to tell me how they feel about this story. As ever I am very grateful for all feedback and promise to respond.
To keep this amazing resource open and freely available to readers everywhere, please consider donating to:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html