This story is a continuation of Matt Smith's (matterotica@hotmail.co.uk) fantastic story, 'Jack Hamilton Is Not A Nice Person'. I had often wondered what transpired directly after Jack storms away in the park. This was initially going to be a one-off, but while writing, I have decided to continue the tale that was left untold between Chapter 19, and the '6 Months Later' epiloge we see in Chapter 20. So, for those of you who have wondered what happened in the 6 months after Jack cut his puppet strings...here it is!
I would like to thank Matt Smith for creating the characters in the first place; and for his invaluable advice, input and suggestions which made this sequel possible. Espeically discussing his characters' motivations and psychology with me. Please read his story first if you haven't already! https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/jack-hamilton/
An additional special thanks goes out to Jasper Cooper (jax.cooper@yahoo.com) for his input, especially having to do with the kinkier stuff. (It'll come, I promise!) You can read his amazing story 'The Downfall of Nate Ramsey', the inspirtation for Jack Hamilton!, here: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/downfall-of-nate-ramsey/
This chapter is dedicated to my amazing, beautiful friend, Hunter. Love you so much man! Thank you for your love and support in this, and all of my projects!
CHAPTER 5
October 4th 2016 - Three Weeks After Jack's Departure
It was an uncharastically balmy night for early October, and Ben was sweating as he was listening to Bryce on the phone. He had spent the past hour talking with him, trying to come up with some plan. Plans! That's all everything was this past month! And because of PLANS - his plan, specifically - everything was falling apart. Bryce - the voice of reason - sounded frantic as he went on and on about how important it was that something be done - and quickly. It wasn't that Ben disagreed with him, it was just....well, what could HE do!? Ben knew how unfair this entire situation was, and that no fifteen year old boy should go through stress like this. He also knew though that it was his fault to begin with, and because of that....the boy he loved was a wreck and now something terrible was happening to him.
Ben couldn't talk about it anymore, because the longer this phone conversation went on, the guiltier and more fearful he felt. All he wanted to do was talk to Elliott and try to actually REACH him for a change! His pleas, though, were falling on deaf ears. Elliott wasn't listening to anyone lately, least of all him.
~ Okay....I'll try my best to reason with him, but you know he doesn't listen to me anymore, right?
~ Yeah....I know, I know.....well, alright then.
~ Oh and listen....we'll all get through this....somehow....see you tomorrow...bye."
Ben ended the call with Bryce. His one hope. His only hope, come to think of it. With Aaron still convalescing, Danny insisting that he was not getting involved with stuff like this anymore, and Lincoln back with an old group that he used to pal around with, it was just the two of them that could have that particular - and VERY difficult - conversation. Worst of all, they couldn't get outside help from ANYone, lest they confess their own crimes against Jack. Whatever was happening now went beyond mere games, or trying to help someone become a better person. This seemed vicious.
Danny had told him and Bryce the other day that over time, Elliott would begin to forgive himself and that they should stop meddling in things before they make them worse. Well, that ship has sailed. Now things WERE getting worse. Way worse, day by day. Ben and Bryce were legitimately scared for Elliott's very life! It was decided that Ben would try to get through to him one last time, before they had to bite the bullet and consider more desperate measures, such as confessing everything. Despite not being a particularly religious kid, Ben made the sign of the cross and began texting:
[SENT 9:08pm] Hey.
[SENT 9:11pm] So um....we need to talk, El.
[SENT 9:17pm] Dammit Elliott! Please!
[RECEIVED 9:21pm] what ben?
[SENT 9:22pm] Are you ready now to tell me about those bruises and that limp?
[RECEIVED 9:24pm] no
[SENT 9:26pm] Well it's obvious what you're doing! Who IS it, Elliott!?
[SENT 9:29pm] El! Ugh! Come ON!
[RECEIVED 9:32pm] calm down ben plz I kno what im doin k?
[SENT 9:33pm] Okay, so then tell me who! Is it JACK!?? Tell me the truth!
[RECEIVED 9:34pm] LOL! omg no!
[SENT 9:35pm] This isn't a joke! Don't "LOL" me!
[SENT 9:35pm] ...El, are you drunk tonight?
[RECEIVED 9:38pm] no r u?
[SENT 9:40pm] Of course not! Just answer me. WHO IS IT?
[RECEIVED 9:42pm] leave it be ben
[SENT 9:44pm] I know why you're doing this, Goddammit!! We ALL do! It won't help so stop punishing yourself!
[RECEIVED 9:49pm] u rly dont get it ben annd I aksed u learve it be. im finneeee
[SENT 9:52pm] You ARE drinking! Again! And you're dreaming if you think I'm going to sit by
[SENT 9:53pm] *sit by and let you destroy yourself! WHO IS IT!!??
SENT 9:55pm] Elliott?
SENT 10:01pm] Elliott, where did you go!? TEXT ME BACK ASAP!
Over in Elliott's room, Elliott threw his phone down on his bed, and frantically took the ten empty beer bottles and hid them in his hamper under his dirty clothes. He took the two bottles he urinated in and stashed them in his closet, on the floor....he'd empty them out into the toilet in the morning. On his way back to his nightstand, he drunkenly stumbled over his sneakers. He tried to stop himself but to no avail, and ended up face-planting himself onto his floor. As Elliott lay there, he glanced at the pathetic form of himself in his mirror on his door. What he was, and what he had become hit home hard at that moment. He was a pathetic waste of a human being, and fully realizing that was a bitter pill to swallow. He began to sob.
'I.....I can't! Fuck me, I can't do this anymore!' he softly cried to himself. In the past two weeks, Tyler subjected him to horrors he didn't know existed. (Being forced to masturbate until orgasm three times in a row with habanero sauce on his hand in front of a sneering Tyler and his lunatic friend Greg was right up there, as was the soiled diaper he was made to wear all day in school, not to mention the traumatizing incident with the ant farm...something Elliott couldn't bare to think about. Through it all, Tyler would taunt him and remind him about what he did to Jack, and the horrors Elliott and "your faggot friends" (as Tyler called them) subjected him to. Elliott swore up and down to Tyler that as much as he hated himself for sexually abusing and humiliating Jack, they never did anything CLOSE to this evil to him and in fact they thought they were doing the jock a favor. His pleas would fall on deaf ears; either Tyler thought he was lying, or he didn't care either way. The guy was a bona fide sociopath, and that's what scared Elliott the most. That day in Tyler's car, Tyler demanded to know who came up with the idea of the games against Jack. Elliott lied and told him it was all him, and that his friends reluctantly went along with it all. If Tyler so much as laid a finger on Ben, Elliott would kill him. Taking the blame, (and all of the pain, abuse, and humiliation that went along with it), was the only way to protect Ben and the others. The abuse was escalating, however, and he had no idea how far Tyler would take things, or how much more of this he could endure.
As he lay there on the floor, clutching his aching arm that he landed on....a million thoughts raced through his mind. Through this kaleidoscopic mental avalanche, he understood that while Tyler might be the instrument to his destruction (and he hated him for it), it was he, and he alone, that was ultimately responsible for his own downfall. (and he hated himself even more). He slowly, and painfully got back up on his feet. Elliott quickly chugged a can of soda and popped some grape flavored gum in his mouth to mask the scent of alcohol on his breath. Tyler said he would be over after 10pm, and Elliott didn't want to risk pissing him off again. Just then, his phone rang.
~ "Hello"
~ "Ohhh! Sorry! Sorry! Hello MASTER!"
~ "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! PLEASEEE! I'm so so sorry, sir! I'll be a good boy. I won't slip again."
~ "Yeah, I know I said that last time, but please underst...."
~ "NOOOOO! I'm literally begging, sir! I WANNA continue! Don't rat me and the others out!"
~ "Yeah, I KNOW I'm garbage. But don't give me another chance for my sake! Do it for Jack! He wouldn't want..."
~ "Huh? I will! Uh, wait....are you gonna record me saying it?"
~ "....Okay then sir. Tell me when you're ready, please."
~ " sigh "Here goes: I ELLIOTT FARNSWORTH OF 1408 MORNING GLORY CIRCLE AM A COLOSSAL PIECE OF WORTHLESS SHIT."
~ "I understand, sir. See you in fifteen minutes then. Please come to the back door."
~ "Yes......huh? Of COURSE! Cum in MY 'backdoor' as well. You own it, afterall."
~ "No! I wasn't drinking tonight! I know.....you want it to hurt."
Elliott ended the call after Tyler said goodbye. He tried to think good thoughts, but such luxuries were in short supply these days. Still, he let the sweet numbing blanket of intoxication wash over him, so that he could at least have fifteen minutes of sweet heaven. This was so important to him, especially because he knew he'd be in for an hour or so of utter Hell.
.................................................
As Elliott paced back and forth in his room, the awful and shameful things he subjected Jack to raced through his head; blackmailing him, fucking him against his will, forcing him to mastubate in class, violating him with fingers and dildos, making him work at a club to be abused by strangers and almost his own family, allowing him to think he sucked off a fourteen year old, inducing an orgasm in church...and many other horrible, disgusting things that Elliott now found absolutely repulsive. Bryce was right what he said in the park.....what could they possibly be thinking? That horrible week was something Elliott knew he could never live down, and never fully forgive himself for. Ironically, he knew that the memories of it would haunt him even worse than they would haunt Jack. In a way, he resented Aaron for calling it for what it was. That dreaded word, 'rape', never once passed through any of their minds through it all. 'Revenge', 'games', 'hazing'....it all seemed so justified at the time. Had he thought of it in terms of 'rape', he would have instantly ended things with Jack right then and there, and would have destoryed the videos on the spot, even if the other guys insisted they continue. The moment Jack assaulted him, verbally bashed him, and stormed away in the park three weeks ago brought it all home. Now, being the unwilling recipient, on the receiving end, made what he did to Jack clearer than ever. He could now understand exactly how he made his former best friend feel. How easy it would be to just end it all, right here, right now, before Tyler got here. The only way Elliott knew he can fully atone for his crimes is with his own death.
'I should just go to the medicine cabinet and swallow everything in there', Elliott seriously thought to himself as he stopped pacing to consider what to do next. 'I would just....fall asleep. No more memories of what I did, no more regret, no more heartache, and no more Tyler.' As he made his way to his bedroom door, however, he stopped in his tracks. Even his own death couldn't make things right, he realized. Once Tyler found out, what would he do next? Elliott was absolutely certain the psycho wouldn't care. He was also reasonably sure he wouldn't stop. Throughout his own ordeal, he could see that Tyler was getting a rush out of every moment and loved every minute of it. His death wouldn't stop that. The older boy would most likely go after another one of them next....maybe even Ben! While Elliott could - barely - endure the horrors he was subjected to, he knew that Ben would not be able to, and it may indeed drive him insane. Elliott lowered his head as he slowly took his hand off the doorknob. 'No........', he thought. 'I can't. If I kill myself now, there's no telling what Tyler might do. Ben and the others would either end up in prison, or as Tyler's slaves. This is the ONLY way I can protect them.' For the second time tonight, Elliott collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor, this time by his own accord. He really was trapped and there was nothing he could do about it.
The song, 'Master and Servant' suddenly reverberated off the walls - a song Elliott came to loathe and despise. Tyler was texting him. He must be here. 'FUCK!', thought Elliott bitterly. He got up and checked his phone.
[RECEIVED 10:25pm] Come outside NOW, faggot!
Elliott quickly, yet stealthily, made his way downstairs and through the kitchen. He unlocked the backdoor which connected the kitchen to the patio. Tyler was already waiting for him, looking impatient with his lanky arms crossed. Elliott put his finger to his lips in a "shhh" gesture, and silently led his master inside, up the stairs, and into his room. He shut and locked the door behind him.
"God I hate your pussy-ass room." Tyler said as he looked around. "And what the FUCK....it stinks in here! Don't you ever clean? I remember you as a prissy-ass neat freak since elementary school. Still...I guess it beats fucking around in the janitor's closet, doesn't it?"
"Yes....yes sir." Elliott responded as he began getting undressed, one article of clothing at a time, just as Tyler liked it.
Once this was done, Tyler took out his eight inch uncircumcised dick and violently pushed a now-naked Elliott on his knees. Elliott just looked up at him with resentment and hatred in his eyes. Tyler ignored the cold stare and proceeded to slap Elliott's face with his cock repeatedly, until it was rock hard. "Suck, bitch!" he ordered.
In one gulp, Elliott deepthroated his master's entire shaft as he was instructed and taught to do. Luckily, his skills were rapidly improving, in no small part due to sucking off the revolting liquor store clerk every day for beer. Tyler's dick may have been long, but thankfully it wasn't too thick, and Elliott was now able to throat the entire thing fairly easily. He sucked and slobbered on it for three minutes, careful not to make him cum. Popping his mouth off, a thick string of spit and precum connected Elliott's mouth to Tyler's cock, which Tyler collected in his hand and slapped Elliott's face with.
"Tell me what you want, bitch-boy!" Tyler growled at the boy who was prostrating himself to him on his knees.
"I....I...want you to r..r..rape my b..b..boy-pussy. Master"
"Very good! You got it right on the first try this time! Maybe you're not as stupid as you look. So lay the fuck down on your bed, and....."
Suddenly Elliott's tormentor glanced over to the closet. In his haste, and distracted drunken thoughts, he had forgotten to close the door the whole way, leaving one urine-filled beer bottle clearly visible.
"What the....!? What the FUCK is THIS!!??" Tyler said as he walked over and snatched the bottle from the closet floor, spilling a bit of piss which filled both their nostrils with a faint aroma of ammonia. Elliott lowered his head. He was found out, and it was too late to do anything about that now. Tyler sounded furious. Elliott tensed every muscle in his body, instinctively steeling himself up for whatever sadistic punishment Tyler would mete out. "You HAVE been drinking, you FUCKING LYING FAGGOT!" he exclaimed as he slapped Elliott's face. Harder than he usually did. Elliott winced slightly, and a single teardrop rolled down his face, but other than that he displayed no outward expression. He had nothing to say. What COULD he say, after all? He blatantly disobeyed one of Tyler's many direct orders, and all he could do was accept whatever was to soon follow.
"Sorry sir." he finally said to Tyler who was clearly waiting for his slave to say something.
"Ugh! And you pissed in the bottle! Fucking pig!" Tyler exclaimed as he sniffed the open top. "Where's the rest!?"
"In....in there, sir." Elliott said, as he pointed to his hamper with a shaky finger.
Tyler walked over to it, and lightly kicked it with his foot, which caused the hidden, buried bottles to clink against eachother. He rushed Elliott and slapped him again, harder this time. "You disobeyed me AND lied about it, you manipulative piece of GARBAGE!"
"Okay Tyler, LISTEN TO ME....I know I fucked up!" Elliott pleaded, dropping rank. His blood was beginning to rage to a boil, and the twelve beers he had tonight was giving him some confidance that, while brave and noble, was also extremely stupid. "Look, you scare the HELL out of me, man! I didn't know what to do, okay!? You're blackmailing me for fucks sake! You humiliated me in front of your weirdo friend, made me do HORRIBLE things to myself and to you! And....you RAPED ME! YOU DESTROYED MY FUCKING LIFE! And lemme tell you something...sometimes I think you actually..." Elliott suddenly shut up. Where did he hear all this before? How dare he say such things to this guy, when he himself was just as guilty. Motives aside, were he and Tyler so different from eachother? He briefly and superstitiously wondered if Jack and his new little Wiccan friend Devin put a curse over his head, because the karmic justice of what was happening to him was too much of a coincidence. Either that or God, the gods, or the universe itself was punishing him for treating Jack in such a similar manner. "That's all I have to say", he simply added, feeling ashamed again.
"Save it! I don't wanna hear it!" Tyler said as he grabbed Elliott by his hair and slammed him hard against the wall.
"Elliott! Are you okay in there!?" his mother called out a few moments later from the hallway. Elliott's heart almost burst out of his chest. If she walked in now, he was screwed. They all would be. Did he lock the door? He was pretty sure he did, but he couldn't think straight.
"Answer her!" Tyler whispered. Behind his authoritative demeanor, he suddenly looked a bit nervous.
"I'm fine, mom!" Elliott called out. "I....tripped over my stupid shoe-laces. Sorry!" A lame excuse, sure, but it was the best he could come up with, in only a few seconds. She was most likely half asleep, Elliott hoped and wouldn't press him too much.
There was nothing by silence for a few moments, before she responded to his lie. "....Alright." Elliott breathed a sigh of relief. "And Elliott?" she added.
"What?" he asked, impatiently. 'Why couldn't she just go away!?' he prayed to himself. 'PLEASEE go away! I just want this night to be OVER!'
"Tomorrow, you and I need to have a talk, okay? Maybe you should try and get some sleep now." Elliott was going to respond, but he heard her footsteps move away followed by the sound of her bedroom door shutting.
"Finally." exclaimed Tyler, who was now QUITE visibly nervous. This was the first crack that Elliott noticed in his abuser. Could it be that he was not as brave or as confident in himself as he made himself out to be? Perhaps one day Elliott could use this to his advantage and free himself. Before he could ponder further, Tyler shoved the piss-bottle into Elliott's hand. "So you wanna drink, huh? Does it help you cope, you weak asshole? I bet it's even stopping you from just off-ing yourself. Aww...poor you. My heart bleeds for the much maligned Helliott Fagsworth! Woe is me! The sheer inhumanity of it all! Woe! Woe!" Tyler dramatically said, sarcastically and theatrically. Puffing himself once again with a facade of false confidence. He then got serious and stared directly into Elliott's eye. "Finish the bottle. Now."
Elliott gaped his mouth in shock. No. Tyler COULDN'T mean it! "You can't be serious!" he cried out. Just the THOUGHT of drinking his own piss made his stomach turn. Thank God Tyler didn't notice the second bottle that was hidden in the closet!
"The way I see it you have two choices. You have fifteen seconds to drink down that bottle. Or it goes up your asshole. I DON'T mean bottle-neck first!"
Elliott hesitated for only five seconds. He knew Tyler was not bluffing. The boy was fully capable and willing to carry out his threat. Especially since he was trying to save face from his brief display of nervous anxiety a few moments ago. Elliott nodded. Tyler smiled as he held and gripped his free hand, so the quaking boy could not pinch his nose shut as he was forced to consume his own strong, pungent urine. For his part, Elliott took it like a champ at first, but ultimately gagged, dry-heaved, and coughed some of the piss all over himself, spraying it on his own quivering naked body. Ultimately, he somehow managed to gulp his own contents down. By sheer will alone, he managed to not throw up, which was a miracle in and of itself. This was without a doubt one of the worst experiences in his life, and it brought him to a rage.
He briefly snapped. "I FUCKING HATE YOU, TYLER!" he snarled. Not giving a shit about the consequences.
Tyler not only let this sudden insubordination pass, but it actually seemed to please him! A frightening smile spread across his greasy face. He leaned down and whispered in Elliott's ear. "I knowwww," he said proudly, before licking it, making Elliott sick to his stomach. "I know you're pissed off", Tyler continued, switching back to normal volume. "But, you know what they say....better to be pissed off than pissed ON. Oh.....Well, I guess both are true in YOUR case. Not to mention pissed IN! Heh heh heh!" he said, laughing at his own lame pun. "Now, lay down and show me that hole, bitch!"
"Don't you want me to make it wet again with my mouth? It's all dry again." Elliott said as he moved towards his bed. After two weeks of this, his hole was extremely stretched, which made entry a lot easier, however it was also extremely sore, which at the same time made things a LOT more painful.
"Oh, not this time, Helliott! By the way, you might wanna bite down on something. This is REALLY going to hurt!"
Elliott sighed, climbed on his bed in the doggy position, ass up. He kept his pillow at the ready, knowing he would inevitably be biting down on it for dear life. Twenty seconds later, he was doing exactly that as Tyler began dry-fucking him with no mercy. Elliott experienced pain hitherto unknown to him, and did not think was humanly possible. Most times when Tyler fucked him, he at least had a prostate induced orgasm to look forward to, but the pain was so great this time, that the boy couldn't even get hard from Tyler's assault.
"I bet Jack would be pleased to see you like this, Hell-Boy!" Tyler said as he picked up the pace, giving Elliott hard deep thrusts. "What's good for the goose!"
This went on for only a few minutes before Elliott finally - and mercifully - passed out. Once he was spent, Tyler pulled out of Elliott's overworked hole, and wiped his dick clean on Elliott's hair. He was just about to see himself out, but had a last minute idea. He went to Elliott's desk where his new laptop once stood, grabbed a black Sharpie marker, and wrote 'FAGGOT' on Elliott's forehead. He was sure Elliott would see himself in the mirror before leaving his room in the morning, but it would be amusing if he didn't. With this delightful possibility in mind, Tyler unlocked the door and cracked it open. Giving a quick peak, he noticed the coast was clear, and made his way out and back to his car.
As he drove home, he admonished himself for allowing himself to feel nervous for a few moments earlier, and even doubting to himself if what he was doing was even worth it. He decided that he would only play with Farnsworth for another week or two, before moving on to his sniviling young boyfriend, Ben.
.........................................
It was almost 11pm, and Bryce was distraught over his phone conversation with Ben. He felt guilty as Hell that Elliott was 'taking it for the team' in order to protect them all....something he and Ben figured out fairly easily. It wasn't fair! 'I'm just as fucking guilty as Elliott!' Bryce thought to himself as he went to the kitchen and put a filter into his mom's 'Mr. Coffee'. Being a traditional woman only one generation out of Italy, she had always refused to upgrade to a Keurig. Bryce was surprised when she finally threw away her old chrome percolator a few years ago. As the coffee brewed, Bryce leaned against the countertop. He wasn't sure who 'owned' Elliott now, but he had a pretty damn good idea. At first, he and Ben wondered if Jack and his friends were doing this to him, and honestly if it WAS Jack, Bryce was prepared to let it happen and play out. The former jock-turned-goth had every right to take revenge, after all. It didn't seem likely, though. It just didn't add up to who Jack was as a person. True, Jack was understandably unsure of himself right now, but he seemed stable enough, and looked at peace. He doubted that Jack and his friends - all of which were very submissive and non-threatening - had some grand scheme of revenge in mind. No, Bryce had an idea who was behind this, although he couldn't figure out what the motive was. Perhaps that didn't even matter right now. What was important was talking sense into Elliott, and putting everything Jack-related behind them once and for all.
Jack
If there was one saving grace, it was that Jack would have no idea about Elliott's predicament. Bryce knew that Jack wouldn't be able to live with himself if he found out, and would ultimately blame himself. Thinking about Jack made Bryce's heart ache. Aside from all the guilt and shame he felt for his role in everything, Bryce also fell in love with him during it all. If he could go back in time, he would have never agreed to participate, and would have indeed warned Jack about what the other boys had planned for him and to not cooperate under any circumstances. When Bryce's coffee was done, he poured himself a cup, adding a bit of cream and sugar and stared outside the kitchen window over the sink.
'Forget about putting an end to it as it was happening,' he thought to himself. 'I should have stopped it before it even began.' As he sipped his coffee and wiped some newly formed tears out of his eyes, he lamented what the other guys turned him into. As angry as he was, he couldn't place the blame fully on them, however. He accepted his role....willingly! 'I'M SO FUCKING STUPID!' he thought. While it was true that he didn't realize he was commiting rape at the time, getting back at someone in ANY way was still wrong....and two wrongs never make a right. To make matters worse, what he helped subject Jack to was infinitely worse than the stupid things the former jock did in the first place. As Bryce continued to sip his coffee, he thought how easy is was to get caught up in a situation that you legitimately feel is totally justified, and as moment by moment passes, one step leads to another....with every step seeming like a logical continuation of the last, but before too long, you look back and realize how far things have gotten away from you, and there was no turning back.
"I wish I could erase everything for you, Jack. I REALLY DO! I'm sorry for it..", Bryce softly said as he stared out the window. "I wish it never happened, and we could.....we could have met on equal footing and....just loved eachother." Bryce got a bit choked up. The 'what-if's' were torture, and the love he felt for Jack was like a bittersweet pill that he was forced to swallow. He knew that it could never be. Jack could never love a monster like him. He SHOULDN'T! Whether Jack ultimately ends up with a guy or a girl, Bryce knew that his victim - thinking about him for what he was - could do so much better. Plus, how could Bryce ever look at Jack again and not be reminded of the crimes he committed against him?
What Bryce needed the most at this moment was a distraction. Something - or someONE - to take his mind off the guy he fell deeply for, and what could have been. He dumped out what was left of his coffee, put the mug in the sink, and sat down at the kitchen table. Taking his phone out, he downloaded Grindr on his phone. Grindr was a gay dating app that Ben told him about once. He quickly set up a profile, put 'eighteen' as his age so he wouldn't get banned, and added in a description:
BROKEN HEART, HERE. THE BEST WAY TO GET OVER SOMEONE IS TO GET UNDER SOMEONE. JUST LOOKING FOR A ONE-TIME HOOKUP! NO STRINGS! 18 TO 25 ONLY PLZ!
He then filled in his physical stats, his sexual position as 'top'. HIV status as 'negative', and waited. After a few messages from older men who apparently didn't bother reading '18 to 25 ONLY', all of which he promptly blocked, he got a message from an extremely hot 23 year old who had 'USE MY HOLE' as his username.
USE MY HOLE: 'Hey' 11:15pm
USE MY HOLE 'Big cock?' 11:15pm
BRYCE [PICTURE MESSAGE SENT] 11:17pm
USE MY HOLE 'Holy fuck ur thick!' 11:18pm
USE MY HOLE [PICTURE MESSAGE SENT] 11:18pm
BRYCE 'Nice ass, man!' 11:18pm
USE MY HOLE 'Thx! You host?' 11:19pm
BRYCE 'I don't know what that means.' 11:19pm
USE MY HOLE 'Can I come over I mean' 11:19pm
BRYCE 'No, sorry. My parents are here.' 11:20pm
USE MY HOLE 'It's okay. wya?' 11:20pm
BRYCE 'Holmepoint Heights' 11:21pm
USE MY HOLE 'Sweet! I'm from Cliffwood Beach' 11:21pm
USE MY HOLE 'I can drive to Holmepoint. You wanna meet in Rosewater Park? Maybe near that big well?' 11:21pm
BRYCE 'OMG sorry not there! Bad memories' 11:22pm
USE MY HOLE 'U drive?' 11:23pm
BRYCE 'Yes" 11:23pm
USE MY HOLE 'Sweet! Come to Cliffwood then. I cant host either tho. We can meet in Twin Oaks Park near the fountain. U know it?' 11:24pm
BRYCE 'Yea, I do. Alright...why not! I never did anything like this before. lol' 11:26pm
USE MY HOLE 'No worries. I don't bite unless you ask! Message me on here when u arrive, k?' 11:26pm
BRYCE 'Yep. Leaving in a few. See you soon' 11:27pm
Bryce put his phone in his pocket and grabbed his keys off the hook in the kitchen. His parents were sound sleepers, and he was reasonably sure they wouldn't hear him start his car. As he snuck outside, he hoped this little encounter would take his mind off Jack for a few times. If it did, he may do this more often, at least until his shameful memories and broken heart were buried far enough down that he could ignore the worst of it. Bryce prayed that that day would come someday. As he started his engine, he remembered fleetingly that he didn't have any condoms and he forgot to ask 'USE MY HOLE' if he had any.
"You know what?" he said as he looked at himself in the rear view mirror. "Fuck it." And with that, he raced down the street, heading East towards the border of Homepoint Heights and Cliffwood Beach. At least this was going to be an interesting night.
[Author's Note: After a little COVID scare (I turned up negative!) I am back. Sorry this took so long, but I was so sick for a week and a half. I am absolutely humbled by the amount of emails I recieved from you guys, eager for this chapter to be published! I am so proud to continue Matt Smith's saga - one of the most well-written and emotionally charged stories on Nifty! It is my very serious obligation to canotically tell this tale that was five years in the making! I'd also like to thank each and every one of you for your kind comments thus far, and your desire to see more of the 'Jack Hamilton' universe.]
If you have any questions, comments, suggestions, or opinions, please email me at riveracheron101@gmail.com