Alternating Ending 2 - I received many emails regarding where this story should go -- so I am presenting two alternative endings. You can write and tell me which one you prefer.
I handed him his jacket as I entered the open door to my apartment. Standing inside the door, I looked around in disbelief. There was nothing there. Nothing. I ran into the bedroom and it was the same, empty. The cable wire seemed to have been cut and the telephone wire ripped out of the wall.
Even the stove and refrigerator were gone! And they came with the apartment. I sat down naked in the empty living room and pulled my legs to my chest and began rocking. Everything I had in the world was gone. No keys, no wallet, no money, nothing.
I felt a hand on my shoulder; I looked up through watering eyes, and saw the man was still there. He was holding out his jacket to me and said, "You can stay at my place until you get things squared away."
I shrugged my shoulders, not able to speak. He said, "I mean, what choice do you have?"
I sat there rocking, feeling despair overwhelm me. He was right: what choice did I have.
Then I was being kicked awake. It was a dream! I jerked up and looked around. It was a dream. But a dream of what had happened.
It has been a year now, and it has pretty much gotten into a routine. He no longer stays at the apartment with me. But he has it set up so that I have a pile of sheets and blankets to sleep in. He cuffs one arm to a chain on the wall when he leaves. I can move from my nest in the corner to the other corner with the seatless toilet in it. The little sink is near by, with a little pantry box in the middle of the wall, below where the chain is connected, within reach as well.
I didn't spend a lot of time in the apartment; I was basically taken there to sleep when they were done with me.
Today he gave me the usually badly ripped jeans to put on. They were so holey that my ass was at least half exposed and my cock and balls were visible as I moved and sat. The same was true of the t-shirt. And I was never given a jacket or hat to wear, no matter what the weather was. I had slip-on shoes that had soles so thin they barely kept the dirt off the bottom of my feet.
He took me down stairs and onto a bus. I always had to sit in the most open seat on the bus, so that my nearly naked body was constantly on display. The one time I had tried to cover my crotch with my hands, he had taken out handcuffs and cuffed my hands behind me. Then he had reached down and ripped the hole in my crotch so big, I might as well have been sitting there naked. I had learned.
We rode downtown and got off at a stop we hadn't been to before. He took me down a flight of cement steps behind a stairwell, where he opened a metal door and led me down a narrow cement hallway.
Then he opened a door and pushed me in. Inside, a man was waiting. He was a little man but powerful. He wore a black leather vest and pants, and smiled when he saw me. He nodded his head and said something that sounded like it was in an eastern European language.
He took out a large wad of cash and passed it over to the man I had begun to refer to as Bill. I had no idea what his real name was. Bill looked at me, smiled, and said, "Strip."
I quickly got out of my ragged clothes as I had been taught. He looked at the man again. He nodded and grinned. Bill looked at me, smiled, and said, "Be good, and have fun!" He slapped me on the ass and left. He rarely left me alone with someone. This man worried me.
He motioned for me to stand in front of him. I moved over and spread my legs as I had been taught. He ran his hands over my body, inspecting me. He tweaked my nipples and twisted them. I bit my lip to keep from letting any noise escape.
He noticed this and smiled wickedly.
He took my arm and stretched it up and restrained it with a leather strap. He did the same with the other arm. Then he stretched my legs apart and secured them to straps attached to the floor.
Next, he ran his rough hands over my body again, causing me to shiver. He laughed and pulled his arm back and punched me in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of me, and I thought I was going to throw up. I fought to get air in my lungs.
He laughed and punched me in the chest. I grunted. He began a series of punches - hitting my chest, sides, lower back, and arms.
I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back. Finally, I screamed, "Please, no more!"
He laughed wickedly. He then picked up a strap, swung it through the air, and hit me on the ass with a resounding slap. I tried to relax and go with the pain. I had learned that tightening up only made it worse.
He went at my ass and upper thighs until he was sweating and I was again begging him to stop.
Someplace along there, the door opened and Bill came in. He looked me over and smiled. Did I see a hint of worry in his face? He stepped over and whispered to the man. The man nodded. He walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and took out a box. He opened the box and brought out a stack of bills. It was twice the size of the one he had given to Bill the first time.
He gave Bill the money, and Bill riffled through the stack. I thought I could see that they were hundreds. That was a lot of money. Bill looked at me and then at the stack. The man walked back to the box and brought out another stack.
Bill took the money and nodded. The little man smiled evilly. Bill went to stand in one of the corners, while the man picked up the strap and began to wale on my ass and thighs. Soon, I was crying and begging him or Bill to make it stop.
The little man would just laugh and swing harder. He was dripping sweat when I saw him move to the front of me. He began to use me as a punching bag with solid hits all over my body. I knew I would be one solid bruise when he finished, if he finished.
At one point I passed out and was awakened by water being thrown on my face. He began to use a riding crop to tap by balls. He kept this up until the repetition began to get to me. It began to hurt more and more. When he saw me flinch, he laughed and increased both the tempo and the intensity.
Soon, I was once again begging him to stop. He laughed and began to increase everything. I was hanging limply, begging and sobbing, when he finally stopped.
He took something from his cabinet and walked behind me. Without any preparation or anything, he shoved it up my ass. The pain was excruciating. He just laughed and brought a box out to a table in front of me.
There was a wire running from the box to someplace behind me. I knew it had to be hooked to whatever was in my ass. I had been hit with electro stimulation before. But I had a feeling this wasn't going to be the simple trickles that had been put through me earlier.
He flipped a switch and turned a knob. The jolt of electricity surged through my ass, hit my prostate, and made me jump. My cock raised as he switched the current on and off, stimulating me more and more each time.
When he had gotten me hard, he hooked a metal ring just behind the head of my cock and one around the base of my balls. I worried what this man was going to do with these. He seemed to have no qualms about doing anything to me. I looked at Bill to see if he was going to help me. He was looking at the floor.
When the little man had all the wires hooked up, he went back to the box. He switched it on and I felt a jolt of electricity through my cock, balls, and ass. My whole body went rigid as I clenched my teeth to try and deal with the pain and current.
He flipped it off and I fought to get my breath. Then he turned the knob and flipped it again. I thought I was going to pass out. My cock throbbed and bobbed. I cried out.
He laughed evilly again, and turned it off, but then, after turning the knob, flipped it back on again. My cock throbbed and began to shoot, but the pain was terrible. I was fighting the sensations of pleasure and pain. My whole body shook through the orgasm.
He flipped it off and let me hang. I closed my eyes to try to focus and gather my senses, so I didn't see him adjusting the knobs and flip the switch. I just felt the jolt and my whole body tensed again. He hit me this way several more times until I felt the rush of release again. He had made me cum again, and, again, the whole pleasure pain emotions confused me.
He continued to do this until I passed out, but he again woke me with cold water. I saw that all the wires had been removed. He went back to punching me. But this time he went at with a strong sadistic vein.
This time he held nothing back. I felt a rib crack, and gasped. Then he started on my face. He broke my nose and, not soon after the hit to the jaw, I passed out.
Images and emotions swirled around in my mind. Images of my family, and fellow workers, would appear, either looking at me with distain or mockingly with laughter. Bill and the many things he had put me through began to get mixed up with family and friends doing them to me. I curled up and huddled in a fetal position to keep from being assaulted.
Then there were whole blocks of blackness. I seemed to have alternated between fits of confusion and blankness. It seemed that this went on forever. I began to wonder if I had died.
I became aware of a soft defused light. I heard whispered voices around me. I tried to open my eyes and couldn't. I tried to struggle and realized that I was restrained. I feebly struggled. I realized I had no strength.
"Brian, can you hear me?" a gentle male voice asked. "If you can, just nod your head." I nodded, as I realized I hadn't heard my name in so long. I cried at hearing someone use my name.
The same low voice continued on. "You are in the hospital, Brian." He let that sink in. "We induced a coma for you so you could heal." He paused again. "You were badly hurt when you arrived in the emergency room. They took several hours and days to put you back together, and then we had to let you heal."
I felt his hand on my arm. It was so gentle and comforting. Again, my emotions overwhelmed me. I felt secure at the moment, but I was so afraid this was another one of Bill's cruel jokes. I couldn't trust myself, or the situation.
"Do you understand?" he asked again. I nodded.
"I am going to take the bandages off your face now, so keep your eyes closed until I tell you to." I nodded. And then I heard the scissors, and felt a gentle tug and pull as he moved around my face.
He gently pulled the patches off of my eyes. "Okay, open your eyes and let them slowly get adjusted to the lights. I have them turned down pretty low to make it easier for you." I felt my eyes flutter.
I got them open and slowly a face came into focus. It was just inches from my face. A handsome face with a look of concern across it came into view. He looked back and forth between my eyes. His were a sea blue-green color. His five o'clock shadow was distinct, as if it must be the end of his shift. He had a strong chin, but, when he smiled, I saw dimples. I got lost in his eyes. There was such concern, depth, and a bit of laugh lines.
Again, tears leaked from my eyes. "What's wrong, Brian?" he asked, and put his hand on my shoulder again.
I tried to talk but there was a lump of emotion in my throat. I felt so comforted, but I didn't know if I could trust that emotion or trust this man. I could only shake my head, and closed my eyes to squeeze the tears out.
"Are you okay?" he asked. The sincerity in his voice was so touching, as if he really cared. I nodded again. "Okay, then I am going to go and let you get some rest."
I shook my head and managed to croak out, "No."
"You want me to stay?" he asked, leaning in closer to me. I smelled his masculine scent, and that captivated me even more.
I nodded, squeezed tears away, and tried to reach for him, but my hand was still restrained. He did something, and then my arm was free. I reached up and clutched his arm. "Stay, please," I managed.
He stood, pulled up a chair, and then sat down beside me, and took my hand in his. The warmth of it was so reassuring and so comforting. I never wanted him to let go. I squeezed it as tightly as I could.
"Close your eyes now and rest, Brian. I'll stay here with you." I closed my eyes, but tears still rolled from them. I felt so secure and comfortable; something I hadn't felt in a long time. I wanted to believe this was real. I didn't want it to be one of Bill's cruel jokes. I squeezed his hand again and slowly drifted off to sleep.
I woke with his face in front of me again. He was saying, "Shhhh, it's okay, it was just a dream." He had my hands in both of his, and was leaning in, talking to me softly. "You cried out in your dream and began thrashing about. That is one of the reasons we had to restrain you; so that you wouldn't hurt yourself." He released one hand and patted me on the shoulder. "You are okay, and I am still here."
"Name?" I managed to squeak out.
"My name?" I nodded. "Dr. Williams, but Brian, please call me Sean." He squeezed my hand again. I felt the strength there. He looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties.
"Sean," I rasped, and smiled. He smiled, and his dimples popped in.
I felt exhausted and closed my eyes. I felt him move, and I clenched his hand and opened my eyes. "It's okay," he said. "I am just moving so I can sit here with you." I nodded.
He sat back down and scooted closer to me. I drifted off moments later, wondering if he had given me some kind of drug. My eyes flew open and I panicked. "Drugs?" I asked.
"Yes, Brian." He felt my hand clench and heard the heart monitor beat faster. "But only the ones you need to heal you - for pain and something to help you sleep. There is nothing bad there. I wouldn't harm you." I wanted to believe him. I really did, but it wasn't easy after the last year. Every time I had, I ended up hearing someone laughing at me.
I was just about asleep when I felt I was falling and jerked awake. Sean was there shushing me and patting my hand. I closed my eyes and faded into sleep.
I woke up and he was still sitting there. His tie was loosened and his five o'clock shadow was heavier. I wondered how long I had been asleep. "Pee," I said.
He chuckled in such a friendly way. "That is such a common reaction when you first wake up. You have a catheter in, so you are going all the time. Don't worry about it; just let it go."
Through the course of the next couple of hours, he raised the bed, fed me some soup and water, and talked with me. He said that they had to run my fingerprints to find out who I was. I remembered having to be fingerprinted for the accounting job. That job seemed so long ago, as well.
He gently asked, "Who did this to you?"
I shook my head. One, I was afraid to tell him, in case this was some type of trap by Bill. "We were able to get the man's fingerprints that brought you in, but we need you to confirm to the police that it was him before they can press charges."
He sighed. "You have been in a coma now for several weeks, so we need to proceed with this in order to bring charges against him."
I shook my head and fought back my emotions. He could tell I was getting upset. "Okay, let's leave that for the moment." I nodded.
"There is something else," he paused. "There were no pictures of you when you first came in, so when we reconstructed your face, we didn't have too many guidelines. When you look in the mirror, you may see someone who doesn't look like you. Okay?"
"Yes, do you have a mirror?" I asked, eager to see it now.
He got up and picked up a hand held mirror, handed it to me, and I raised it slowly, worried that I would see some hideous monster. "Now there is still some bruising and swelling that will go away in the next couple of days. But the over-all structure is set."
I cautiously took the mirror and raised it. The man in the mirror was more handsome than me, although his face was puffy. The jaw was stronger than mine, with just a bit of a cleft. The nose was not as broad, and nobler. And the eyebrows had a bit more arch to them.
The eyes that looked back at me were mine. They looked scared and frightened. I don't remember the last time I had looked this closely at my face was. Very rarely did I use a mirror to shave or brush teeth or anything. There wasn't one in the apartment. At the gym, I was only able to shave in the shower, and the less time I spent in the locker room the better.
I turned my face, yes, my face, side to side, trying to see the profile. There were still bruises around my eyes, which seemed to be sunken, with dark circles around them. I was afraid to smile. I felt around with my tongue inside my mouth. All my teeth seemed to be intact.
So I smiled tentatively. "Yes, only one tooth had to be replaced. You were very lucky there," Sean said.
I looked past the mirror to him. He was smiling and looking at me. "Pretty handsome guy, it looks like to me." I blushed, and then tried to figure out why. Why would I blush because I received a compliment from this guy?
Back to the mirror, I tried to reconcile that this is what I looked like now. I used a finger to poke the cleft in my chin.
Sean laughed. "Yes, that was my idea," he smiled broadly, such a reassuring smile. "I am a sucker for a man with a cleft in his chin." Did that mean he was gay? Was he rebuilding me for himself? I put down the mirror and withdrew, closing my eyes and pulling my arms up to hug myself.
"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" He put his hand on my shoulder, and I shrugged it away. "Really, it was to connect the skin, tissue, and muscles that we ended up with the cleft." He paused, and then added, "But I do think it looks cute."
He patted my leg. "You need your rest. I'll talk to you when you wake up again." He paused, and said, "There is another doctor that I want you to meet. He will probably be around tomorrow."
"No," I said quietly.
"No, you don't want to meet the doctor? But you need to. I think he will help you," he said earnestly.
I shook my head; he was not understanding. "Don't leave, please," I said, once again fighting emotion. I didn't want to be this thing he had built, but I didn't want to be alone even more.
He smiled with such concern written across his face. He thought for a moment, and then said, "Okay, I'll stay here with you."
I raised my hand, wanting him to take it again, and he smiled and took it. Sitting down in the chair, he leaned closer to the bed. "Okay, but you have to rest now, and no more nightmares. Doctor's orders." He smiled again.
I squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. Closing my eyes, I fought emotions again. I couldn't trust him. Was he one of Bill's friends? Had Bill set him up to mold me into someone new? He was so caring and so gentle, but I had learned not to trust that. I didn't know. I drifted off to sleep, trying to fight the conflicting battle in my head.
Next time I woke, Sean was slumped over, with his head on the bed, sleeping. What an ass I was...demanding that he give up his life because I was being a scaredy cat. I watched him sleeping: his eyeballs moving back and forth behind his eyelids. His eyelashes were long.
With his face on its side and lying on his hand, his mouth was smooched up and open a bit; he really needed a shave. I wondered how long he had been sitting with me.
He looked so peaceful as he slept. Again, I wondered if I could trust him. I watched him for a while, and finally leaned forward and pushed a wisp of hair back that had fallen across his brow. That woke him.
He opened his eyes and looked at me, smiled, then raised his head. He stood and stretched, pulling his shirt tails out of his pants. I caught myself looking at his crotch and wondering what he looked like. Then I closed my eyes and lowered my head. He would think something was wrong with me if he caught me looking at his crotch.
"I have to pee," he said. I leaned my head back and opened my mouth. I still had my eyes shut. I didn't want him to see how much this hurt, him expecting to use me. I knew I shouldn't have trusted my feelings.
"No!" he said after a moment. He reached over and closed my mouth and wiped away the tear that was rolling down my cheek. "Who did this to you, baby?" He gently rubbed my face. "I'm sorry, I mean Brian."
I had just reacted from my training. Bill was forever having me drink his piss; in bars, restaurants, men's rooms, or in the apartment; along with most of the men he had put me with in the afternoons. I felt ashamed that Sean should see that. The emotions really warred in me then. I had to squeeze my eyes tightly shut to try and stop the flow of tears that threatened to flow.
He wiped my face again. "Be right back," and I heard his steps as he walked away. There must be a toilet in my room, because I heard a door open and swing shut, but not latch, because I heard his gush of piss and he filled the toilet.
The toilet flushed and he washed his hands before returning to the bed. I opened my eyes and looked at him. He was wiping his eyes now. "I can't believe someone did this to you," he said, as he sat and took my hand. "Will you tell me who did this to you?"
I shook my head. "Is it because you don't trust me? Or are you afraid he will do something else to you if you tell?" I hadn't thought about the latter, but now it scared me. I could only shake my head.
"Okay, let's get you something to eat." He used his cell phone to place a call while he walked over and opened the blinds on the window. Bright blue sky and sunlight filled the window. And it seemed like a breath of fresh air filled my body as well.
The food arrived and he fed me. He took my bandages off and looked over my face, chest, arms, and legs. I was now lying there naked on the bed as he inspected me. I could see the hose running from my dick. He saw me looking and said, "Yes, I think we can get rid of that, now that you are awake. We are going to have to get you up and walking soon."
He smiled again. "Your recovery is going to take some intense physical therapy over the next several weeks until you are released. You are going to call me all kinds of names, but we will get through it."
He brought a stainless steel bowl and some scissors over. Then he cut one tube on the hose and some water flowed out. "This might hurt a bit as we get rid of your little friend." He looked at me, smiling, to see if I got his joke. And it did hurt as he pulled the hose out, but I had had worse with Bill when he had used sounds on me.
I couldn't help but sigh when it was removed. "Now for a bit of a sponge bath." He left and came back with a tub of soapy water and a sponge. Then he dipped the sponge into the water, squeezed it out, and, beginning at my face, he professionally worked his way down my body, gently washing me.
At my crotch, I noticed the difference for the first time; hair was growing there. I had not had hair there in more than a year, much to my embarrassment. He moved my cock this way and that, and it began to swell.
I knew better than to cover myself, but was none-the-less ashamed that I was reacting to his touch. He looked up at me and smiled. "Looks like this is working just fine." I blushed and heard his soft chuckle. "Nothing to be embarrassed about; it's a fine looking specimen. And I have seen my share of them."
Then he blushed, "I mean as a doctor." I laughed then.
After washing me, he reapplied the bandages, where needed, and then helped me into one of those wonderful hospital gowns that gaps in the back. But still, it was more than I had worn in a long time. And it didn't have holes in it, except where it was supposed to!
He fed me, and turned on the TV. I realized I hadn't seen TV in over a year. Tears again rolled down my cheeks. He must have thought it was something on the news, because he turned off the TV. "I'll get a book to read to you."
Another doctor came in, who introduced himself as Doctor Crail. He was the hospital psychiatrist. I cringed at the thought, but he spoke to me gently, and with assurance.
I spoke little the first time we met. He did most of the talking, telling me how people who had been abused often felt they couldn't trust anyone else, even through they wanted to. And how feelings of inferiority, or shame were common. Not wanting to name the abuser was also common.
He smiled and said, "You are a very handsome young man, with a long life ahead of you. I think that together we can work on healing your mind and allowing you to get back to your life, so that you will want to move on and explore your options."
Over the next several weeks, Sean rarely left my side. He helped me to the bathroom or gave me a bedpan when I couldn't make it. I was so used to not having privacy that this didn't bother me, other than it was Sean who had to deal with the bedpan if I used it. I tried to always make it to the bathroom.
The first couple of times, he stayed with me to make sure I didn't fall over or anything, but again I was used to no privacy.
He worked with me on walking and exercises; exercises that caused a lot of pain and, yes, I wanted to curse him, but still felt I would be punished if I spoke out. So I endured the pain as I had been taught. Sometimes I thought he was doing it to see if I could take it. Other times I wondered if he enjoyed inflicting this pain on me.
Dr. Crail saw me daily as well. I began to talk to him about what had happened. He listened and listened. I felt like I was pouring out my soul to him. It came in gushes, almost like vomiting memories from my mind. I had to admit, after a while, that it felt good to be able to tell someone this stuff.
I hadn't told Sean very much at all; I was still unsure about my feelings for him. I was falling head over heals for him, but didn't think he cared, other than as a doctor, and still had concerns about the pain he was causing.
About the third week of physical therapy something happened. He was stretching my legs and making me do leg lifts. He kept asking for just one more. "Come on, you know you can do it!" when I snapped.
"Look, you fucking asshole, I can't do another one, so fuck off!" I said, and instantly regretted it. He moved towards me and I cringed, expecting the punishment.
Instead, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Thank you. That was wonderful." I heard tears in his voice. What the fuck was wrong with this guy? But it felt so good to be hugged. I hugged back tighter and tighter. He gripped tighter as well.
We sat there rocking back and forth like a couple of idiots. Finally, he pushed me back and looked into my eyes. "I have been waiting for you, the real you, to come out and speak." He smiled. "I would have told that to the guy who was doing it to me, weeks ago."
He looked at me and, through the water in my eyes, I noticed his were just as moist. "You have been holding in so much and just enduring it. But I knew you could break through, and you did." He took both hands to each side of my face and pulled me closer. He kissed me hard on the lips. And then he hugged me. "You made me so happy! I am so glad for you!"
I didn't know what to think; I was floored, blown away, and helplessly in love. When he broke the kiss, I went back to hugging. It was what I felt most comfortable with.
That moment changed many things. I started calling him fuckhead, and laughing. He started tickling me when I said I was too tired to move. We became inseparable; he stayed in my room almost all the time. He had a rollaway brought into the room, and spent the nights there.
He showered in my room, so I got to see him naked. He caught me looking him over a couple of times and smiled. Nothing sexual happened between us, but we grew closer together. At times, like brothers, and others like life long friends.
Dr. Crail said we had made a great deal of headway. I finally told him how I felt about Sean. He smiled and asked if I had told Sean how I felt. I said, "No." He said that I had learned to be honest with myself about my feelings, so I should be honest with others.
That evening after dinner, I sat with Sean in the two chairs in our room. I told him the story of what had happened that night so long ago and what had transpired as a result of it. He was smart enough to let me just get it out.
"So I didn't think I would ever be able to love anyone, much less just trust someone," I said, taking his hands and looking into his eyes. "But I have to tell you how I feel. You may hate me afterwards and never want to see me again. But I am trying to be honest and straight forward now." I swallowed. "I lost a lot of my life in the last year and I want to enjoy my life like I never did before. But I want to do it honestly and openly."
I took a deep breath. "Sean, I care for you. In fact, I think I am in love with you. I don't know if you like men or not. We haven't ever talked about sex." He started to say something, but I shook my head. "Sean, I don't know when or how, but the person I would like to have sex with is you."
He started to talk again; I shook my head and continued on. "Before you walk out this room in disgust at my confessions," meaning what had happened to me and my feelings about him, "I just want to thank you for bringing me back from that pit. Whether you were acting the part or not, you got me to care for someone and about something again. And for that I thank you, more than I could possibly put into words."
I couldn't say any more. I lowered my head and waited. I tried to believe that I would be strong enough to take it if he got up and left.
I felt his hands on either side of my head; he was pulling my head up and towards him. I kept my eyes closed. He put his lips to mine and gave me a long tender kiss. I opened my eyes and saw his closed, with tears running down his cheeks.
When he broke the kiss, he opened his eyes and looked into mine. "Look asshole, if you haven't figured it out by now, I'll tell you now. I love you." He smiled.
We hugged and kissed and laughed and cried for the rest of the night. The next day I was to be released from the hospital. Sean said, "Look Brian, you have choices. We can set you up with your own apartment until you get a job, and then you can be on your own. Or..." he paused.
"Or..." I prompted.
"Brian, I don't want this to sound like Bill. You do have choices. You can walk out right now and be on your own. The police are not looking for you; I have checked on that. I tried to explain things to your former boss, but he won't take you back."
He sighed, took a deep breath, and said, "What I am trying to say in my own stupid way, is that I would love for you to move into my place. You could have your own room and do your own thing. We can see where things go from there, but I want it to be your choice. You do have choices, plural."
I smiled and said, "Where is this place, roomie?"
He laughed and jumped into the air. He took me to his apartment; he hadn't been there much since I arrived at the hospital. He said that he had pretty much turned away all his patients while he was with me. He admitted that he had to get back to his practice.
But he gave me a projects to keep me busy. First, I was to be his accountant and second, he was filing suit against Bill. He knew who he was, and knew that he was a high roller in the city. So I would be working with lawyers on that.
Life became a rush of things then; getting back into life, learning about everything that had happened in the last year. I got an iPhone and loved it. It was a birthday present from Sean.
The lawyers managed to nearly bankrupt Bill, leaving me with a huge settlement and him lucky he wasn't in jail. I laughed, and wondered what choices he had now?
With my skills in accounting and investing, we managed to increase the settlement several fold, until we had enough to buy the accounting firm I had been fired from. When I called my boss into the President's office, he didn't recognize me due to the surgery. But I asked about a firing he had done. He finally recalled it. I asked him if someone hadn't called to clear the young man's name. He hesitantly answered `yes'.
When asked why he didn't offer the young man a position in his firm, the guy answered, "I didn't think I could trust him. I mean, what choice did I have?" He shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, here is a choice for you. You are either fired for unlawful dismissal and lack of reinstatement of this young man, or you can be brought up in a lawsuit, where I am sure that you will lose all of your assets, as well as much of the control of your life."
He swallowed, thought a moment, and then said, "Will I be able to get a letter of recommendation?"
Sean and I laughed so hard, that he just got up and left.
Sean and I finally had sex. It took a while for me to accept that it would be wonderful between two people and not painful or shameful. But once it happened, we were like rabbits for days. We tried every position we could think of in every part of the apartment, including the balcony.
Sean had laughed and said, as we headed out to the balcony, "What choice do you have?"
As always comments, suggestions, pics and vids are always appreciated -- harryrod575@yahoo.com
Have fun
harry