Outed

by Victor Thomas

Chapter 16

The evening was stark and colorless. I yearned for the bright leaves of autumn or the green of spring and summer. Even the snows of winter would've been welcome, but I was caught in a between time, no longer fall, not yet winter, and far from the summer sun. The season echoed my life. At the moment, I was in a dark and dreary mood, punctuated by rising fear.

Before I'd gone two blocks, I heard a truck coming up from behind, pacing me. Only it wasn't pacing me, it drove on by. I was letting my fear get the best of me, but I couldn't help it. I concentrated on walking as quickly as I could for home. I considered running for it, but I knew the sheer terror would overwhelm me if I did, just as in my nightmares. I sometimes dreamed that someone or something was after me. In my dreams, I had a nearly uncontrollable urge to bolt, but I knew that if I did so whatever pursued me would catch me for sure. The terror was in the running.

I trembled at the approach of every vehicle, and had to fight to keep myself from constantly looking over my shoulder. I was trembling. I wished Brian was with me. I wished, too, that I'd been able to call Mark or Ryan for a ride. I was on my own though, and the best I could do was walk as quickly as possible toward home.

You can't let them get to you like this, Scott, I thought to myself. If you let them instill this kind of fear into your heart, they've already won.

I walked on in a waking nightmare, struggling to reign in my fear. I wasn't having much luck. Fear is like that! It doesn't have to be rational to be real. I remembered a cousin of mine from childhood who was so terrified of crowds she couldn't go out in public without having a panic attack. I thought that was ridiculous until I saw her have one of her attacks. Her fear of crowds wasn't rational, maybe, but it was real to her, and that's all the mattered.

I heard another truck coming up behind me. My heart clutched in fear. The truck accelerated quickly, and I thought for a moment I was about to be run down, but it shot past me and slammed to a halt. My heart froze. It was my nightmare come true.

The truck doors flew open and the occupants hit the pavement. Two more boys jumped out of the back. I bolted, but they were on me before I could make it ten feet. One of them tackled me around the legs, and I went down hard. I was jerked from the ground and pulled toward the truck. I fought, but there was a guy on each of my arms. I screamed, but there was no one to hear my cries for help.

The tailgate went down. Someone grabbed my feet and I was dumped into the back of the truck, quickly covered with a blanket, and held down. I could feel the truck take off. I calmed down after a few moments. Struggle was useless. Even if I'd managed to fight my way off the bed of the truck, there was nowhere to go. I could hardly jump from a speeding truck.

Each bump sent pain through my back and head as I bounced on the hard truck bed. I didn't know if I was relieved or not when the ride ended. The cover was pulled off, and I was jerked to my feet, one strong boy on each arm again. I was pulled struggling from the truck. I kept thrashing about, trying to free myself, until a couple of quick punches to the gut from Jeremy doubled me over and took the fight out of me.

I looked around and didn't know where I was. All I knew is that I was in serious trouble. We were outside of town somewhere in an isolated spot. They'd driven back on an old dirt road, and we were nearly surrounded by trees.

"I told you we'd get you, faggot," said Ashton, his eyes full of glee.

"Why do you hate me so much?" I asked him. "When did I ever do anything to you? We were friends and still would be if you hadn't turned on me."

"You have to ask me that question, fag? You're a homo, what more reason could I need?"

I looked him in the eyes, trying not to show my fear, but I knew he could see it. It overwhelmed me.

"Aren't you going to beg, fag? Aren't you going to beg us not to hurt you?"

I slowly shook my head.

Ashton slugged me in the face and my head swam with pain. He grabbed my hair and pulled it back painfully.

"You'll beg before the end, pretty boy. You'll beg us to kill you just to stop the pain, and if you're lucky, maybe we will."

He yanked my hair hard and released it. He grinned at me. How could anyone derive such pleasure from being so sadistic?

He jammed his fist into my abs and I doubled over. Steve slugged me in the face, and my head snapped back. I struggled and thought I'd broken free for a moment, but Alex and Jeremy had released me to join in. I punched and kicked, but I was out numbered four to one and was doomed from the beginning. They beat the shit out of me, and soon I could do little more than attempt to fend off the blows. Someone kicked my hard in the nuts, and I screamed in pain.

I lay there struggling to breathe, crying. They'd stopped for the moment. I was thankful for that small mercy. I could feel blood running from the corner of my mouth. Ashton grabbed my hair and pulled me to my knees.

"Having fun yet, faggot?"

I couldn't even answer. I could barely breathe. I fought to catch my breath.

"Hey, boys, look, he's on his knees. The little fag has assumed the position. He's ready for us."

I shook my head as Ashton unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. I tried to get away, but Steve and Alex grabbed me and held me in place.

"And now, we'll see what a good little cocksucker you are, Scott."

He tried to force himself into my mouth, but I clamped it shut and turned my head. He slugged me, but I still wouldn't open up.

"Do it, faggot! Suck it or we'll fucking beat you some more."

"You will anyway," I said, and quickly snapped my mouth shut again.

Ashton slugged me.

"I guess we'll have to do it the hard way," he said.

He nodded and Jeremy clamped my nose shut with his fingers. I couldn't breathe. I fought like mad and fell to my side in the struggle.

"One way or another, you're going to blow us, faggot! You're going to blow us all," said Ashton. "Quit pretending you don't like it. You're getting off on this, aren't you? You sick little fuck! I bet you jack off dreaming about something like this every night."

They grabbed me again. I fought against them but it was no use. Ashton closed in on me again. I knew Jeremy would hold my nose shut once more and I'd be forced to open my mouth.

"You stick your dick in my mouth and I'll fucking bite it off," I said.

He slugged me, grabbed me by the hair again and pulled back painfully.

"You bite me, you bite any of us, and we'll cut your balls off. Got that, faggot?" he yelled in my face.

"I'll do it," I said. "I swear I will. So help me god, I'll bite your cock off if you stick it in my mouth."

Ashton lunged at me in a rage, and the four of them beat me nearly senseless. I was in so much pain I wanted to die.

"Change your mind yet, queer?"

"No," I croaked.

"Then we'll just have to try something else," he said.

He dropped on me and tore at my pants. I kicked and struggled, but they had my jeans and boxers pulled down in seconds. They stripped me completely naked. I looked around wildly to see if I could spot a knife, fearful they were about to make good on their promise, but they pushed me face down on the ground.

"There's more than one way to use a fag," said Ashton as he lowered himself upon me.

I struggled, but they held me down and forced my legs apart.

"Noooooo!" I screamed, then the pain hit me blindingly hard.

It was nothing like being with Brian, who was kind and gentle and more interested in my pleasure than his own. The mere thought of what Ashton was doing to me was unbearable, worse than the pain, really. I fought like mad. Someone nailed me in the back with his fist as hard as I could. I screamed.

"Mmm, almost like a girl," grunted Ashton in my ear as he used me for his sick pleasure.

The others laughed.

I cried out in pain. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. My head swam with torment, and my eyes lost their focus. Mercifully, my nightmare ended. I blacked out entirely. I don't know what happened after that, but when I awakened, I was naked and alone in the darkness, freezing. I was surprised I wasn't dead. I really didn't think they'd let me live after what they'd done to me.

I curled into a ball, crying and shivering, half fearful they weren't gone, but just waiting for the chance to go at me again. I strained my ears and could hear nothing but the sounds of the night. I pulled myself into a sitting position, trembling and numb with cold. Maybe they'd left me for dead. I didn't feel far from it.

I found I could stand. My chest hurt, my back hurt, my ass hurt. I found my clothing in the moonlight and got dressed. The cloth felt deliciously warm, but still I shivered. I felt like I'd never be warm again. I followed the dirt road out to a gravel one. I didn't know where I was, but the lights of town weren't far away. I stumbled toward the light.

I ran my hand across my chin. I wasn't bleeding anymore. My muscles loosened up as I walked. I was sore and aching and had difficulty walking. I didn't know how I looked, but I was sure I was in worse shape than I had been after the first time I'd been beaten up.

A sob welled up in my throat and I cried. I couldn't help it. What had just happened to me was too much. I let myself cry for a bit, then got myself under control. I reminded myself it was over, but I didn't know if it would ever truly be over for me. The beatings were bad enough, but I'd never be able to forget what they'd done to me tonight. I guessed they'd all taken a turn. I didn't know. I thanked god I'd blacked out. I'd received that one small mercy at least.

I walked on, the darkness hiding me. I pulled my jacket close about me, trying to warm up. I didn't know how I was going to face tomorrow. How could I look into the eyes of Ashton and the others, knowing what they'd done to me. I felt dirty and nasty, but I was the victim. I hadn't wanted this or asked for it. I'd fought as hard as I could, but there were just too many of them. At least I hadn't been a coward. I hadn't begged for a mercy that would not come. What they'd gotten from me, they'd taken. I'd given nothing to them of my own free will.

How could I face Brian after this? How could he bear to look at me after he found out what they'd done to me? How would I ever be able to bear looking him in the eyes again? I was so ashamed.

I just wanted to go home and sleep. I wanted to lie down on my bed and forget this nightmare. Yes, that's what I needed the most now; sleep.

I made it home at last, only to see a suitcase sitting on the front porch. I had a feeling that my nightmare was about to become even worse. Just as I stepped onto the porch, the front door came flying open and dad stepped out, his face red with anger.

"Where the hell have you been, you little faggot?" he screamed. "I know you're still seeing that little cocksucker boyfriend of yours. Don't try to deny it."

Just then mom appeared and took one look at me in horror.

"Oh my god, Scott, what happened? Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?"

She was frantic. She was looking me over, running her fingers down the side of my face.

"Who did this to you?" she asked.

"Ashton" I said, "and his crew, the same ones who got me before."

"You deserved everything you got, you little shit. You can take your stuff and get the hell out of this house. I never want to see you again. You're no son of mine."

He started to hit me, but mom grabbed his arm and stopped him. If looks could kill, my father would've dropped dead right there, not that I gave a shit anymore.

"Jeffrey, you need to calm down," she yelled at him. "If anyone's leaving this house tonight, it's going to be you. I've gone along with your shit concerning our son up till now, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you kick him out of his own home. You need to go somewhere and cool off. You can come back tomorrow night and we can talk about this."

"I'm not going to be thrown out of my own house, Robin," he said.

"It's either you or me," she shot back. "I'm not going to stand here and let you abuse our son any longer."

By now, a few of the neighbors were watching. Dad looked around, grabbed his keys and walked to his truck and drove away.

"Come in the house, dear," mom said to me. "Let me look at you. Are you sure you don't need to go the hospital?"

"No, nothings broken," I said. "I can tell. I'm not exactly feeling healthy, but I'll live."

"Maybe you should at least see a doctor tomorrow morning. Just to be sure."

That was probably a good idea, so I agreed. Tomorrow morning, we would go see Dr. Reardon, our family doctor here in town. I think his office opens up at nine, so maybe I can get a few hours sleep before I see him.

"Can I fix you something to eat?" she asked.

"No thanks, mom. I'm not really that hungry right now. I just want to go to sleep right now."

I slowly walked toward my room. I kicked off my shoes, pulled off my jacket, and fell onto the bed. I felt mom pulling the blanket over me as I lost consciousness again.

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