After reuniting with Jay at Maine's tiny-ass airport, I managed to get a hold of Leo. My new truck driver friend was heading back in our direction. According to his message, he would be `passing through in about two hours.'
'2hrs?' I texted back. That seemed a little long for this time of night, especially in Northern New England. As far as I knew, Maine was tiny. "Two hours?" I turned to Jay who was reclined across a row of seats, using his carry-on bag as a pillow. "Does that sound right?"
"I guess so," Jay said with a yawn. "If the bloke had to go all the way to Canada, that's easily a bloody five-hour round trip."
"Why does your accent seem more British than usual?" I asked, just to get a reaction.
"You do not call an Irishman a brit!" Jay reached behind his head, hurling something at me from his bag.
It took me a second to realize what it was. The small white object started to vibrate the moment it made contact with my arm. "Take back your `personal massager.'"
"Who said it's mine?"
"Oh, fuck off." I returned my focus to my phone. Replying back to Leo, I was hoping for a play-by-play; one hour away, thirty minutes, just passed the exit, etc. Instead, I was met with an auto message, 'This user is currently driving. They will respond when they are safely off the road.' That made sense, but it was still annoying. And then my phone pinged.
Jay shifted his weight to his arms as he sat up. "Is that your friend?"
"No." I checked the message confirming my appointment time to take the GED test online. Thankfully It wasn't for another two weeks. "No, just a notification. I got a confirmed date to take the GED test online."
"Oh?" Jay, now fully awake, leaned over to look at my screen. "I didn't know that was something you could do online."
"I think it's one of those tests where you're required to be on webcam the entire time to avoid cheating." That would explain why I needed to pay a fee to get an appointment slot; there would be an actual human watching me, an idea which made me kind of nauseous.
"Couldn't you still surf the net?" Jay asked. "Or do they need to see your screen? That would be some major bullshit."
His choice of words made me chuckle. I couldn't help but find his `bro' attitude endearing. "I don't think so. I mean, I know how to share my screen, and I wouldn't be offended if I had to. But there wasn't anything about it on the site."
"Sorry, mate, I didn't mean to get you bothered." He patted my arm. "You're a bright kid, it's going to be a walk in the park."
I looked at Jay, meeting the light of his eyes. He didn't speak like someone old enough to have an adult daughter. "All is forgiven if you promise to buy me a padlock."
"To keep my daughter from sucking your dick on camera?"
"Yes, please keep Becca locked out of the room. I can't imagine the kind of hilarious crap she'd try to pull."
"Yeah," Jay leaned back, resting his arm around my shoulder. "She's a real nutcase, but you know she loves you."
"Well, she is your daughter." I wasn't sure what I meant by that.
"I'd be honored to take credit for her sweetness, but she's also her mother's child," he said with a sigh. "Do you think she's actually pregnant? That's just the sort of rubbish her mum would pull."
"Hell, if I know. I haven't had the balls to make her take a test in front of me. As far as I know, she could be like one of those women who fake a pregnancy."
"And then murder a stranger on Facebook or Craigslist," Jay said with a laugh.
"Mostly Craigslist, right? I read a few different stories about people responding to ads offering free baby clothes or nursery supplies, but all they got was a beating and a bullet."
"I think some escaped," I muttered under my breath. "I heard stories of guys who answered the ad because their partner was too sick. They either scared off the potential attacker or were able to escape with their lives." I wasn't entirely sure if I was confusing actual news stories with internet horror fiction. "I just like to think that the world is not a completely fucked-up place."
Jay placed his hand over mine. I could feel the cold steel of his rings. One was a dragon, while the others were Celtic designs. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."
"Thanks, I guess." At first, I took that as a compliment.
`It had to be, right?' And then I realized, I knew what those words meant. He thought I was a naive little kid who believed in fairytales. I stood up, no longer comfortable with how close he was sitting.
"Marcus." Jay lowered his head, running his fingers through his hair. "You're a good person, and you deserve good things in life."
"What? No." My brain froze up like a computer. The way he spoke was surprisingly not patronizing.
"No? Because of the sin of pride? I never took you to be a religious man."
"And now you're joking about faith?"
"Are you a man of faith?" Jay motioned for me to return to my seat. "Will you pray with me?"
I had no real choice; no matter what we would be traveling together, so I might as well suck up any anger or resentment. I returned to the seat beside him, my arms crossed over my stomach.
Jay gave my hand a squeeze, closing his eyes in contemplation. "I could only imagine what you've heard."
"About what?"
Jay's face was visibly struggling with his choice of words. He was attempting to be profound; a role model, someone who could give me hope. "Would you let me eat your ass while you took a shit on my chest?" he asked the question so casually; I could assume he was high on something.
I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure of how to respond. "I guess so?"
Jay's expression was one of disbelief. "The fact that you think I would even." He shook his head, choking back laughter. Eventually, he caught his breath. "Fuck, man." He searched through his carry-on, digging to the bottom. "You want some weed?"
"Fuck yeah." I suddenly recalled his promise to my father. "This is just regular weed, not the super illegal stuff you said you'd sneak in the country?"
"Do I look like someone who would shove illegal drugs in my ass?" Jay pulled out a pair of opaque aviator sunglasses, covering his eyes. "Don't answer that." He handed me a container of what looked like gummy vitamins. I took a green one. It resembled a sour apple candy; soft, flat, and covered in sugar crystals.
Jay shook out a small handful, making me believe that these were, in fact, just normal candy. "I have a nightmare sometimes."
"A nightmare?" The topic was more than a little random.
"Sometimes I think about what my life would be like if I had no idea of what I wanted to do."
"As a profession?" I asked. Jay technically did everything and nothing. He made a name for himself as a gifted athlete, earning a living that the majority of people would envy. But apart from cashing in on his image, he was pretty much retired from actual `work.'
"Do you know why I was raised by my grandparents?"
I thought I had. Since my assumption was incorrect, I only shrugged.
"It was because my mother didn't want me."
`Ok, turns out I was correct.'
"I was only ten when she tried to put me in the foster system. Who the hell does that to their own child? We drove into the city, to some sort of government building. I think it was where she collected her disability checks. The evil cunt full-on abandoned me. She refused to come back even under the threat of arrest." Jay crossed his arms, his face reliving the childhood pain. "You know: because child abandonment is kind of a crime." He blinked back tears and shook his head. "I'm just saying; when you feel unwanted it does something to your brain."
I knew what he meant. "It's like you're at the bottom of a hole and looking up at the world."
Jay nodded. "I've felt it many more times throughout my life. I had bosses who saw me as nothing but a screw-up and agents who thought I was a waste of their time. One even said I was a loose cannon, a liability. Can you believe that?" He chuckled as he lit up a cigarette.
I could believe it. In fact, I actually knew what he was referring to. A former agent published a book following Jay's brief stint in rehab. It was insulting, but also degrading. He wrote about how Jay was nothing without him; just a punk kid with a pretty face, who was likely going to overdose before ever winning another medal. I reached for Jay's hand. "Fucker was wrong."
"Doesn't make the memories hurt any less." Jay turned to his bag, retrieving his phone. "I had coaches who I respected, telling me I should just give up. Most of them called it 'tough love' but it fucking sucked. Imagine making the Olympic team, signing a million-dollar modeling deal, then going home to your hotel all alone." He took a long drag, filling his lungs before blowing a long stream. His pose reminded me of the caterpillar in the Alice in Wonderland story. "I took a bottle of painkillers; store brand Tylenol or something like that, I can't even remember."
"Wait, what?" I was about to speak further on the topic of his attempt at suicide when Leo's truck approached. He managed to park in the taxi/bus area, honking the horn as if to prove he wasn't a hallucination, brought on by our lack of sleep. We exited through the doors, into the warm New England night.
Leo stepped down, wearing a green vest over a typical work shirt. "Marcus! You like my new safety vest?"
I was admittedly too sleepy to match his level of energy. "Yeah, sure."
"You'll need it, there are only two seats in the front." Leo turned to Jay. "You awake?"
Behind dark sunglasses, Jay appeared to be asleep. He stood up, stretching his back as he retrieved his bags. "Hey, man," he reached his arms out for a hug. It's been a while."
The environment became oddly cold. I forced a nervous chuckle, suddenly picturing the famous meme. `I'm in danger.' It took a moment for my mind to allow me to speak. "You know each other?"
I would not receive a direct answer. Had they been texting? Did Jay send Leo to find me?
Leo put his arm around my shoulder. He stroked my cheek, brushing a lock of hair from over my ear. "We're going to be keeping you in the back."
Before I could ask any further questions, a black plastic bag was placed over my head and I was forcibly shoved into the back trailer. The door shut behind me, locking with a loud clank.
The face cover was easily removed, but I was trapped in complete darkness. The glowing vest acted as soft creepy light; just enough to prove this was not a dream. I could hear no sounds; no Leo or Jay or even the sound of the engine.
A figure approached me from behind. "I'm going to need you to close your eyes," the voice was a digitally distorted whisper, like a ghost speaking through an old television.
Before I could even comprehend the situation, a wide piece of tape was placed over my eyes. It didn't feel like duct tape, more like thin painter's tape, something meant to obscure my vision without causing pain or limiting my other senses. A hand gripped the back of my head. I allowed my body to go limp. My face was being guided to a tight, muscular stomach.
I licked the skin, making out with the six-pack abs. when my tongue touched the figure's pierced navel, I could hear a male voice moan. Was this Jay, or Leo? (Or someone else entirely?)
A set of hands reached behind me. They stripped me of my jacket, then my shirt. he then forced my hands together, tying them behind my back.
I leaned back, resting in the arms of this second figure. a cold sharp blade stroke my jawline, down my neck to my collarbone. The knife disappeared, and without warning, I felt ice-cold clamps on my skin. My nipples were being pulled by an attached chain. "Oh, fuck." I cried out in pain, only to get slapped across the face.
There was a hand around my neck. "Get to your feet, boy," said a digitized voice. The sound was low, creepy, almost demonic. a cold metal was pressed to my neck. the vibrations of the tone set a ripple down my spine. Whoever was speaking was wearing a microphone directly in front of their mouth. I was brought to my feet and forced up against a wall. Several voices were speaking behind me.
"What piece do you want?" asked a different voice.
"I've always been a leg man."
I felt a pair of hands removing my pants. The warm, distinctly human hands massaged my hips, with deep pressure, working down my legs.
My sweatpants were not completely off, securing my legs together while allowing my body to spread open. I felt my muscles clench, it was something primal that made my body tense up in fear. I was going to be sacrificed, devoured. `Would I survive this?'
A pair of lips kissed my lower back. With a soft, intentional breath. The stranger licked my ass crack. I could feel the microphone pressing against my skin. Whoever wore it knew to move the device out of the way before they plunged their tongue into my gaping hole.
I couldn't help but lean in, towards the intense penetration. Soon I was bent forward, placing my weight on my arms as if doing pushups against the cold steel wall. My stomach went tight, engaging my core muscles, as my legs went weak. I was brought to the brink of climax, just as a punch to the stomach forced me to my knees.
The pain gripped my chest. My heart was pounding, I couldn't breathe. But I had no time to rest as another cock was put in my mouth. And just as quickly, the tongue in my ass was replaced by what felt like multiple cocks competing for the chance to tear me open. This was a position I had never been in before. at least not while conscious. (I imagine my mother would have charged at least a grand either in cash or drugs, for the privilege of using my body as a playground.)
That was when I thought about my father. His love was what kept me sane. He was the only person who cared; he never stopped fighting for me. Was he suffering, was he afraid? I already faced the fact that he would die someday, but the idea made me cry tears from under the now loose-fitting tape. Even with a cock in my mouth; the taste of salt and sweat, I missed him so much.
And then there was Becca. Was there a part of me that loved her? I loved the way she made me feel; worshiped, desired. Would she be sad if I never made it back to her? Or would she just move on to the next person like a remora fish?
Suddenly, I felt yet another pair of hands gripping my shaft. Was there another mouth? or maybe it was a toy.
The cock in my throat was close to climax. I wanted him to grab my hair, to force himself. Instead, he teased me; moving backward, threatening to deny me.
I could feel my own body climax, my soul opening like a flower. My heart raced. a temporary panic set in, as I couldn't take in any air. Cum was dripping out of my nose, flooding my sinuses. the salty fluid was all I could taste; all I ever wanted to taste. Overwhelmed by sensations; physical, mental, and even emotional, I could do little more than whimper like a dog in heat.
All I had was my body, my moment, my life. There were tears in my eyes. I was alive.
"You have to own your body, own who you are," the voice was human, but I was too exhausted to care. They could have me; this world could have me.
I must have fallen asleep or maybe I was drugged. All I know is I woke up in the front seat, in Jay's loving embrace. We were wrapped in a large soft blanket. `Did this belong to Leo? Were we still in the truck?'
"You did good, kid," Jay said in a deep, tender moan. "You did really good, mate. I'm proud of you."
My skin tingled. I was completely naked under the blanket, at the mercy of his touch. I could feel the vibrations of an engine, we were still in the vehicle, traveling somewhere. Jay's hand was between my legs, gently gripping my shaft. I had already ejaculated several times, but just feeling his big rough hands made me crave more. His fingers gripped my balls giving them a tender squeeze. I leaned back, releasing a soft breath.
"Do you want to live happily ever after with me?"
'What did that mean?' Without knowing what I was committing to, I nodded. "Yes." Some might say I was lost in his eyes. Jay was something beyond human. He was an octopus, or maybe a spider; someone with limbs that could reach out to seemingly any person. Did he know people in the mafia? What about the Yakuza? Would there be a day when I would have to give my life for him? The idea got me hard.
Under the blanket, I spread my legs. I wanted it so bad; the idea of being his; his lover, his fuckboy, his drug mule, his sacrifice. For the first time in my pathetic existence, I felt worthy. I had the strength to take on whatever was to come; to say goodbye to my father, to welcome Becca (and our possible child) as a partner and friend, and for Jay. Part of me wondered who he submitted to, to gain his level of courage.
That was a secret best left untouched.
I leaned back, blinking sleep from my eyes. "Is this going on the dark web?"
Jay turned to Leo who was, in fact, driving the truck as if nothing had happened. This could have all been an elaborate prank or even a dream.
And then my phone pinged. It was Becca. `Where the fuck are you?'
To be concluded.