Walk in Lies Chapter 17

Sometimes I wallow in the mire and root for garbage. This story might be that.  The following story is for adults and contains graphic descriptions of sexual contact between tweens,  adolescents and adult males. There is, of course, a power imbalance in these varied relationships, and considerations of consent are blurred.

If you are a minor, then it is illegal for you to read this story. If you find the subject objectionable, then read no further. All the characters, events and settings are the product of my overactive imagination. I hope you find it cathartic. Feel free to respond.

If you would like to comment, contact me at eliot.moore.writer@gmail.com.

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(First Edition Posted May, 2007)

Walk in Lies

Things Feel Wrong

It is easy enough to have the Trick let him out by the park. Three classmates don’t notice Mica until he calls out to them. The basketball gets tossed his way, and he joins the pickup game. Mica falls into the banter with an easy familiarity. He joins the chorus-laughter when someone trips up, and groans dramatically when a shot is missed. It is all too easy.

“Seen you walking Mica, but you’ve been MIA all summer.”

“Not true,” Mica finds a laugh, takes a shot. It bounces off the rim. “I was just at Jamal’s.” He waves a negligent hand at one of his companions. “I suppose I’ve just been chilling.”

“Netflix and a chill,” his classmate snorts. “Chilling on yourself.” His jack off gesture makes the other three boys laugh.

“Best kind,” Mica grins, as if his life has not been turned upside down. As if less than an hour ago, some Trick did not have his prick in Mica’s mouth. Someone feeds him the basketball and he takes a shot. Nobody grills Mica for doing dick-all for the summer. This is not a neighborhood where parents book off two weeks to camp the Black Hills. This is a neighborhood where the rundown trailers sit decaying in the backyard.

The boys go home for supper and Mica parks it on a bench. The Sykes’ phone leaves him alone for the evening. Something is on Bitch-boy’s Google Calendar for tomorrow, otherwise Mica has the night off. He is sitting on the bench worrying about Finn. It seems twisted to care a rat’s ass how things go for a person named Sykes, but Mica worries.

Finn’s Trick lets him out on the self same corner Mica picked. Finn waves at the car as it pulls away. The boy takes some hops on the sidewalk, blissfully unconcerned about how funny he looks. Finn away from his family, Mica decides. Little-bitch sketches a wave towards Bitch-boy and skips toward him.

“You want a burger, some fries?” Finn offers Mica an abused McDonald’s bag.

“Sure,” Mica replies. He unwraps the cheeseburger, takes a bite, then hands it over to the boy. “Here, you eat it Finn.” He watches the boy devour the small burger in four bites. The fries follow the burger. “So how did it go, kid?”

“Well it wasn’t like the Man, and it wasn’t like Leon and Javier.” Finn shrugs.

“Javier?”

“The guy with Leon.” Finn scrunches his face at Finn.

“Oh, the Fat Man.” Mica nods.

“The Fat Man?” The boy giggles, but there is a question behind the three words.

“I don’t think about their names. Names don’t matter to me. Tricks just give you fake names or ask you to call them shit.” Mica takes a French fry before Finn empties the bag.

Finn nods understanding. “The guy in the silver car who dropped me off. He said his name was John. We just went to a park and talked. He liked to listen to me. We talked, he sucked my dick. He just wanted to touch me. Then we went to McDonald’s and he bought me a meal.” Finn shrugged and finished the fries.

It’s easier than I thought, Finn decides Three dates on his own and none of them have been as kinky as the Man’s silent games or Leon’s soft seduction. Two cars and a hasty hotel room. The hotel room Trick was call-me-Bobby. The cars exchanged oral sex with Finn. Bobby was Finn’s second date fuck. All the men were gentle, frightened by what they were doing. Finn does not know how to respond to their stumbling apologies. He tries to set them at ease with equal awkwardness.

The two whore-sluts share the growing night together. Little-bitch wishes Finn’s-bitch would take him home. Mica’s home, not Finn’s bleak home. Finn thinks his bitch would take him to the Laar’s home if he demanded. Mica would tell him sleepovers with a twelve-year old are hard to explain. “You want to, what did you call it?”

“Witness”

“Right, you want to Witness to me.”

“Bring you to Christ,” Finn’s-bitch places a hand on Finn’s crown and holds his other up to God. “Loving Lord Jesus, I bring you Finn Sykes, a sinner, he needs your forgiveness. Fill him with your spirit. You died for our sins and rose from the dead. Help Finn turn from his sin and welcome you into his heart and life.”

“That’s not so bad.” Little-bitch shrugs.

“A lot of bullshit gets wrapped into the package, trust me.” Mica musses up Finn’s shaggy mop. “It’s a Get-Out-of-Jail-Free card for people.” Mica is thinking of the Deacon’s arrogance. Mica never was a good Christian. His mother was a vocal martyr to his wickedness and Mica’s father never praises. I’m Filth, Mica knows. “He will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” Mica whispers.

The Deacon and Mica’s father know they are forgiven. Bitch-boy is the chaff. There is no beginning and no end, so his prick-loving teenage soul is already in the unquenchable fire. “It’s all bullshit, Finn.” Mica smiles, but he knows Bitch-boy is in the fire. Bitch-boy dances naked, animal-hard to the scourge. He sluts for the Elect and Damned, too Fallen to discern the difference.

“You want to be Saved, listen to my father’s bullshit?”

“I want a sleepover with you Mica.”

“Okay, Little-bitch, let's go face God together. Just saying, you might prefer Cain.”

“As if,” Finn replies.

A sleepover at the Laar’s home is just another weird date like going to the Man’s house. Finn is largely ignored, while Henry Laar uses his tongue like a cane to lay into Mica. Thank you sir, I understand, Little-bitch can almost hear the words when Mica’s father pauses to suck air. Mica gets no credit for trying to bring Finn’s soul to Christ. Finn is too tongue-tied to throw his little self between his bitch and the relentless blows.

The whore-sluts retreated to Mica’s small room. The bedsheets are redolent with his bitch’s sweaty scent. Finn buries his nose in the pillow and snuggles close to Mica. Finn’s room or Mica’s room, Little-bitch feels Finn’s-bitch wrapping him in temporary safety.

“Mica, I want to speak with you a moment.”

The commanding voice wakes the boys from a peace-filled sleep. Mica does not look at Finn. He just swings his legs off the bed and starts pulling clothes on. “Fucking Black Tea keeps him up all night. He won’t admit it has caffeine.”

Finn sits on the floor in the hallway so he can hear what happens in the living room. He is back on tread witnessing the whore-slut getting beat, only Mica is Finn’s-bitch now. Mica’s dad talks a lot. A Sykes would not waste words when muscles make a point of view obvious. Finn hugs his naked chest and waits for the first blows to fall on Mica.

It is not that sort of encounter. Henry Laar is repeating arguments from the evening vitriol. This time he has a Bible to back him up and an endless stream of Mica’s past transgressions to exploit. Finn’s-bitch was a wicked child, it seems. The only slaps Finn hears are the King James Bible smacking down on Henry Laar’s open palm.

Finn’s-bitch listens in silence, and then he starts to answer back.

“My son, do not despise the Lord’s discipline, and do not resent his rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those he chastises, as a father the son he rebukes.”

“Delights in,” dad. “Psalm 103:13, and he loves, the Bible says, he loves.” This generates a diatribe from Mica’s father that falls on Finn’s-bitch like an avalanche of indignation.

“It’s always been the same old story. From the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen.”

“That’s not a verse.”

“It’s a fucking song, dad, Boyzone.” Henry Laar is apocalyptic. There is a silence between father and son. “Psalm 34: 13-14, dad. That’s the one you are looking for.” Then there is a fresh diatribe having something to do with Mica’s first bicycle and a stray cat. “1 John 3:18, Dad” This is a smart-ass taunt interrupting the flow.

Smack! Finn hears the Bible connect with Finn’s-bitch’s head. Henry Laar begins praying for strength. “Join me in prayer, Mica.” Finn stands up when Mica’s sister Ruth opens her bedroom door. His nakedness disturbs her. His presence dissuades Ruth from whatever she planned to do. With a glance at Finn’s underwear, she retreats.

Finn follows the harsh flow of words to the living room. “Ephesians 4:2-3, Dad.” Smack! Mica has a smile on his face as he kneels beside his father.

“Can I do what you are doing?” Finn interrupts. “Pray with you?” He does not wait for an answer. Mica’s father pauses until Finn kneels beside Mica. The man’s words continue on with more restraint and Mica stops goading his father. The scene is incomprehensible to Finn Sykes. A restless Willy Sykes would beat his wife or fuck a daughter. Then he might go out to drink. An agitated Cain would assault his little brother with the animal frenzy Burley generates on Mica’s back. Sykes never waste words.

“Just go back to bed,” Mica tells Finn quietly when Henry Laar lapses into silent prayer.

Finn waits for Mica on the bed. When his bitch comes back, Mica’s face is like a stone. Suddenly, Mica’s fists are pounding on his temples. He stops hitting himself and stares at Finn.

Finn comes to his bitch and grabs the front of his shirt. Finn’s-bitch sinks down with the firm tug on his chest. Little-bitch drops his underwear and guides his bitch’s mouth to his groin. “Touch me, Mica.” So as Finn’s-bitch sucks Finn’s prick, Mica’s hands clasp Little-bitch’s round bottom. “Good boy,” Finn whispers. “You’re a good boy. My bitch Mica, remember that. I’m your little bitch, we take care of each other. Yeah, your teeth, yeah, like that.”

Mica nibbles and pulls at Finn’s prick and scrotum. His fingers claw handfuls of flesh and press the groin into his face. Little-bitch’s small nipples receive attention. Hands petting his hair as he captures one small nipple between his teeth. “I’m fucked,” Mica mumbles into Finn’s chest.

“You’re Finn’s bitch, Mica. I’ll take care of you.” The whore-slut returns to the small boner. His young partner takes charge, fucking his mouth with long strokes. “You’ll take care of me, keep me safe.”

Finn wakes first. He pulls his pants on, remembering the look Mica’s sister Ruth gave him in the night. The house is empty; another unfamiliar situation for Finn Sykes. The older Laar’s have left for work leaving Mica behind. Sloth and lust, words Henry Laar threw at his son’s head while the three of them were praying. Finn drinks some juice, and then returns to his bitch’s bedroom.

They have the house to themselves, so Finn strips Bitch-boy’s underwear off. This wakes Mica, of course. Finn penetrates his bitch, “Oh yeah, oh yeah,” small prick thrusting into Finn’s-bitch’s warm goodness. “Gonna jizz this time, Mica. Gonna be a wet one!” Maybe Mica chuckles at that. “Don’t make me laugh, I got to fuck your ass hard.”

Mica shifts onto his knees so his Little Master can lay into his rectum. Finn is climbing Mica’s back Burley-style. It is a frenzy when Finn wants this control over Mica. Finn’s hands are all over Mica’s torso possessively. It is like the young boy is reassuring himself that Mica is there for him. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Umph! Umph!” Little-bitch marks his territory. “Finn’s-bitch, see? Finn’s-bitch!” The boy wraps his arms around Mica and squeezes tight.

Finn straddles his bitch’s thighs masturbating Finn’s-bitch. Finn traces the seam that runs down the middle of Mica’s ­scrotum with his finger. As Finn cradles his bitch’s balls with one hand, he places a knuckle from his other hand against Mica’s perineum. It is super sensitive. Finn’s small fist vibrates the area between Mica’s scrotum and anus. It is his job to pleasure his bitch.

“The Fat Man”

“Who?” Finn asks.

“Javier,” Mica supplies. “He had this wicked vibrator that did that.” Mica dreams of that hot session. His prick jumps at the memory of the flogger and Javier’s ruthless Nine-Inch Nail. Finn sucks on his prick for a while. Finn sticks out his tongue. Then hold still as he takes Mica’s prick at the base and quickly shakes it from side to side so that the glans slides against his tongue with firm pressure. This intense motion on the most sensitive part of Mica’s prick brings Finn’s-bitch to orgasm quickly.

Finn pulls his mouth away and lets the jets of spunk spatter on his bitch’s belly and chest. If it is not paid for, the whore-slut’s free spunk belongs to Little-Master now. “You cum so nicely, so much.” Mica grins at Finn. “Okay, now,” Finn turns business-like. He takes the silver tea spoon Mica showed him in the night. “Take it, bitch.” Finn scoops up the spunk. The first taste is his, then he feeds the rest to Mica. “Can I keep the spoon?”

“Sure, you crazy kid.”

Finn falls on Mica’s chest and hugs him tight. “Thank you, Mica.” Maybe for the little gift, or for agreeing to be Finn’s-bitch, for always being safe and caring. “I should go home. You’re coming over again today, right?” Finn listens to his bitch’s strong heart. Mica hugs him back.

“I have a date with Edan.”

Finn sits up on Mica. “Show me the jockstrap. Let me see that on you.”

“Edan doesn’t like it. I will be wearing the panties, otherwise, just some stuff from my closet. He wants me to meet his friends. He is not ready to share his girlfriend all dragged out with them.”

“Put the jockstrap on. That’s the one I like.” Finn punches Mica a little, as if to say he will have his way about this. His bitch looks so good in the black jockstrap. Finn wants one just like it for himself. Little-bitch and Bitch-boy dressed like that for the Man. “It suits you, Mica. Does it make you feel good?” Mica nods shyly. “That’s good.” Finn assures his bitch. He felt bad for Mica last night. It was like Mica had to go down to the basement with Cain. Mica is so important to Finn.

Mica smiles at the serious little kid. He is slim and Tricks give him all sorts of complements his parents never offer him. Call their son bright, honest, responsible? Feed Mica’s sinful vanity? Not hardly! The Lout reminds him he is not smart, but Mica can be beautiful. Bitch-boy is a useful whore-slut, not worthless. 

Bitch-boy strokes his torso from his captured crotch to his hard nipples. Finn watches. Little-bitch admires his strength. Just twelve years old, naked smooth on his bed. Spare like Mica, Bitch-boy’s little twin-whore. “Touch your prick.” Finn tells him. It just seems right to wait until Little-bitch tells him to. He strokes his confined prick and the summer air on his bare ass is like fingers tickling about his anus. Mica is getting boned for a tween. Mica is a whore, he never understood that till Cain explained it to him. “You're so cool, Mica.” Finn explains seriously.

Finn has to touch Bitch-boy’s bare ass. “You’re fit, Mica. I wish I looked like you.” The mats of hair on Cain’s body repelled Finn. Even the soft hairs on Mica’s forearms make Finn shiver. “Pick me up.” He is safe against Finn’s-bitch’s chest, the arms supporting his butt.

“You’re not a baby, Finn.” Mica laughs at his young partner. Finn has his muscles too. He drops Finn back to the floor. Finn grins at the complement. Mica is so wrong. Finn is small and weak. Mica could press his child’s body down and use Finn any way he chose. Mica could piss in Finn’s mouth and Finn would have to let him. Little-bitch looks up at Bitch-boy’s friendly face.

“Okay bitch, over to the bed and bend over on your knees. I’m going to fuck you again before I leave.”

“I’ll make you some breakfast first. You must be hungry.” Mica readies himself on the edge of the bed. His cheeks spread and his anus waits for Little-bitch’s hard prick.

“Thanks, Mica!” His hard body has to show Mica just how much he cares for him. “Take it, Mica, take it!” Finn wants to spunk again. Finn has to return to Alea, Vikki, and Cain. He would rather stay here with Mica, even if Mica’s father is so strange with his constant words and anger.

Little-bitch clenches onto Bitch-boy’s hips, feet planted firmly so his friend’s knees stay parted. Wiry muscles bunch and thrust between hard adolescent glutei. Angry young hips thrust into Finn’s-bitch’s moist heat. “So good, Mica; your so good! Don’t ever forget it!”

Things feel wrong as soon as Mica turns onto the block. There is a police car near the Sykes’ house. It is a nice enough neighborhood so the sight is unusual. Mica doesn’t want anything to do with the police, but he cannot risk missing an appointment with Alea. He does not want to go to Edan’s date punished for his carelessness. Mica heads for the backyard. Something prompts him to stop and he turns to the Sykes front door.

Finn lets him in and hugs Mica tightly. Finn clings to him. Mica sees he is frightened. This is not an unusual state of affairs and Mica begins comforting his partner when Vikki rushes up to him and stops him by giving him an unexpected hug.

Mica is confused and caught off balance by her. Burley is jumping up on him, pink organ semi-erect. Burley’s heavy body slams Mica back into the front door. Vikki tugs Burley away from him and tearfully tells him that something terrible has happened. Mica finds himself backed into the door as the aroused dog tries to hump his hip. “Finn, take Burley outside.” Vikki suddenly screams hysterically. Finn asks if Mica should come with him to take care of the dog and she screams back that he should just chain Burley up.

Mica notices the police in the living room. “What’s wrong Vikki?” Mica is wary of the police officers. He wishes he hadn’t entered the house.

“What is your name?” one of the officers has come forward. Mica quickly answers his questions, conscious of Vikki crying retreat to the couch.

“I’m visiting Alea, we are in the same grade at school. I just came to hang out with her.”

“Did you see Alea and Cain Sykes last night? Can you give me your name and address again?”

Mica senses trouble, but he dutifully passes on his particulars. Mica was with his mother and dad the night before. Young Finn came over for a sleepover. Mica guessed they went to bed at eleven. No he didn’t go out. He was tired. He talked late with his dad.

Mica wants to know why his alibi is important, but he knows better than to ask. The polite officer asks him further questions. Mica finds his inner cooperative citizen and does his best. He does not know if Cain had any enemies. Mica can say that with the same sincerity that the Deacon can pray over a teenager giving him head.

Light is beginning to break over the horizon and Mica unconsciously holds his breath in anticipation of the dawn. In all this confusion, there is no sign of Alea or Cain.

“Someone shot them Mica. Last night someone killed them.” Vikki is in tears and Mica is blinded by a shaft of comprehension. Freedom bursts through his fog. He whispers a question to Vikki and glances at the officers in what he hopes is a look of shock and sorrow. “They went out last night and some bastards gunned them down.”

Mica doesn’t understand what has happened but he suddenly realizes it is summer vacation finally. The police are looking at him, so he goes to Vikki and sits beside her. She falls on him and cries. Finn hovers by the door looking very much like he will evaporate when things get unpleasant. Finn is a Sykes, so he knows this is when not if.

Mica decides it is time to leave. It comes as no surprise to him when Vikki follows him out of the house. She calls his name as he starts away. “Mica.” He turns briefly to look at her. Suddenly she is only a sad little girl.

“Take my advice Vikki; you and Finn should get the police to get you the fuck out of there before your parents get here.” He pauses again and adds “If that dog ever comes near me again, I'll beat it to death with a stick.” Mica turns and almost skips home.

Mica walks with a spring in his step. Cain is such a vicious animal it surprises Mica not at all that someone was willing to shoot him. He is burning to know the details of the murder, but he is more anxious to get away. Mica whoops for joy and throws the burner phone as far as he can.

At home Mica slumps onto the couch and puts his feet up. He is magically transformed back into a normal fifteen-year old with nothing to do on a summer day. Edan is the only person he can think of who will understand the significance of his news.

When Mica phones, he gets no answer. Back on the couch Mica is reduced to watching daytime television. A transvestite man confesses to his mother that he has been having a relationship with his grandmother. He imagines himself on the talk show with his parents revealing the details of his summer. In his mind there is a lot of shouting and tears. Mica is not confident that the talk show host could bring his parents to accept him again.

Mica dismisses seven weeks from his mind in three days. This is his summer, sleeping in, trying to connect with his mundane friends from grade nine, and playing on his secondhand games. It is an amnesiac's sleep where nightmares of Cain and Alea dragging him from the bed are finally defeated. Mica is in a happy denial.

Then Edan phones him. Everything comes to Mica’s mind again. He is quick to tell Edan about the murders. “What? That’s not possible. That can’t be right!” Edan's voice sounds shocked.

“Oh yes it is!” Mica replies with a near hysterical giggle. “Trust me, they are dead. I walked into the police at the Sykes’ house and they grilled me on my whereabouts.”

Edan cuts Mica off. “Okay,” Edan begins, and then there is a silence between them. When he continues, Edan seems deflated. “I was just phoning to say I’m off on vacation now. We will talk when I get back.”

“Email me.”

“I'll miss you.” Edan sounds wistful. “Are you going to miss me?”

This is a question Mica has not gotten around to answering for himself. Out from under Cain, Mica thinks he is free. Edan wants to call him back to loose threads. Edan knows Mica is Cain’s boy-hustler and Mica does not want to be with someone from his last seven weeks. It would be smarter to hang out with old friends and play familiar video games.

Loose threads, they dangle off the edges of Mica’s mind like ragged strands on the bottom of his jeans. It feels as unsettled as the first day of summer. It is that decompression from exam pressure mingled with the absence of motivation to do anything.

“I’ll miss you, Edan.” Mica finally understands, “I hope we can get together when you return.”

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