by T L Bradford
Josh picks up the small tube of lube by the bath and coats his fingers. Then, without breaking pace, he goes back to the business of preparing me. I detect a distinct pinch, but it dissipates shortly after he begins probing. He pinches and suckles my nipples harder, turning them into hard pebbles all the while delving deeper and deeper into my channel. When he senses me loosening up, he proceeds to insert his second digit. This aches more, and I audibly mouth my discomfort. I lean forward, his head tight against my chest. He stops for a moment to let me adjust to the new pressure, then when I am ready, I let him know. He withdraws his fingers momentarily to apply more lube. When he re-enters, it is much smoother, and his fingers slide right in. There is still intense pressure, but it starts to feel good. Strike that. It starts to feel great as he’s able to go deeper within me. A third finger joins the others, and I feel my body start to buck forward. Then he barely grazes my prostate. Oh. My. Fucking. God.
Thunderbolts of pleasure shoot behind my eyelids from the pressure. I am so caught off guard by the sensation; I nearly slip from my hovering position over him. My knees buckle, and I slip onto his stomach. This doesn’t stop him. Josh continues to probe me deeply. I let loose a stream of whimpering noises that I have never made before — my body pitches and shudders over his as I start losing control of my body’s actions.
Josh removes his fingers from me, and I nearly feel like breaking into tears, I want it to last so bad. I hear the slosh of water as he moves around behind me. We’ve both been tested multiple times and use PrEP, so we haven’t been using condoms when we have sex. He picks up the tube of lube again and applies it generously directly to his shaft. Then, he warms his hands by rubbing them together and drizzles some onto his fingers.
I’m still facing away from him with my hands on the rim of the bath. He moves in close behind me to apply the lube to my hole. He prepares me both inside and out. I was fine until this moment; then my breathing picks up pace. I’m feeling anxious and horny at the same time. How is that even possible?
By instinct, I reach my hand over to my other wrist feeling for my pulse. Josh is right behind me, molding his body into my back. Sensing my apprehension, he takes my hand away from my wrist and lifts both of my arms and places them over my head and onto the wall behind the bath. He leans his left arm against the wall and holds my wrists in place, placing his large thumb over my pulse. His other hand grips the base of his shaft where he lines himself up with my entrance. My breathing turns erratic.
He moves his thumb back and forth over my pulse point and quietly says, “I can feel your heartbeat.” For whatever reason, these words instantly calm me down. My breathing evens out, and I feel my body become less tense. We are more connected than ever before. He senses this too and uses it as his opportunity to enter me.
He uses careful moves with me, ever mindful of my triggers. Victims of abuse sometimes end up in controlling positions because they are always trying to get back the power they once lost. I am no exception. I have a feeling Josh has done some research on this topic before our encounter. He doesn’t want to make any sudden movements that could make me skittish. He is tender and protective.
I turn my head back once to see him, and his wide-open eyes are filled with nothing but love and concern for my comfort. Inch by inch, he pushes into me, filling me to the brim. It burns intensely. I make no complaints seeing as Josh has done this for me countless times and never once had a word of regret. I swallow down the ache and focus on the feeling yet to come.
Once he is fully seated, he stops and relaxes, giving me time to adjust to his girth. He keeps the pressure up on my wrist, calming me. Sweat has broken out over my brow, and a sheen covers my body.
“I’m going to make you feel so good.”
He starts to move, slowly at first, then he picks up a rhythm. He keeps the same pace with his thumb on my pulse. Josh rocks his hips upwards, and I feel a different sensation from the painful ache. Then he does it again, and my breath hitches.
It’s like I’ve stepped out of my body, and I’m looking at us from above. The feeling is so surreal. I feel like we are in motion, spinning, turning, morphing in such a dizzy state, that I can’t see what surrounds us. Everything has turned otherworldly. My earlier trepidation has disappeared. In its place, a new Noah has come forth, one that is uninhibited and wanton for Josh.
My mind has somehow simultaneously disconnected from my body and reconnected on a different frequency. All my nerves are on end at the same time. His pressure and intensity leap forward as he becomes as stimulated as I am.
My mouth parts and I moan loudly, not caring how provocative a sight I may look. The sensations rolling through my body have given me new courage. I can release the pent-up urge I’ve kept hidden just beneath the surface my whole life. I am an open vessel waiting to be filled, and he fills it so well. I’m free from the bonds that kept me down for so long, telling me that what I was feeling was wrong. This has never felt so right.
I think I’m floating in a dream. My heartbeat feels like it’s extruding from my chest. What explodes from it is joy and pure bliss. In my dream, I see memories from my past and imaginings of the future all rolled into one. I’m floating, floating ever higher. Gravity no longer applies to me. Our souls are entwining like a physical force.
Josh adjusts his position and hits me in just the right spot. What I thought was powerful before, is nothing compared to what I experience when his pressure strikes my prostate this time. I reach a near ethereal plane of existence.
My consciousness is unable to interpret what I experience in words, only colors, and sensations. Reds, blues, pinks and greens are the splashes of hues I see behind my eyes. I am in a state of utter euphoria. When I open my eyes, I stare at the ceiling, and it spins and morphs. I can see into the altering images that Josh described that day in bed. My mind has opened. I am free. I throw my head back with abandon and release a loud yowl as though I were wailing to the stars. The floodgates are opened, and I release so hard that it’s a mixture of pain and ecstasy. Josh follows me over that cliff seconds after I do.
He holds me through every pitch and quake I make, then presses his chest into my back, supporting my weight. My body trembles and I reach a level of peace and contentment I’ve never felt before.
Exhausted, I lay my head against the wall, my sweaty face flush against the cool tile. Josh still holds my wrists against the wall. He places his arm around my waist to pull me back to him, facing me, frontwards toward him. I’m not sure how to read his expression as he looks concerned.
“Are you okay baby?” His eyes are darting around my face, his thumbs moving across my cheeks.
“Why?” I am bewildered by his question.
“The tears in your eyes…I needed to make sure.”
I reach up to touch my face, completely unaware of the tears streaming down and look at my fingers. Sure enough, fat tears are coasting down my cheeks, falling from my chin.
“I had no idea…” I look back up into his face. “It was always you.”
“Why me?” He looks confused.
“Only you could set my mind free.”
He reaches out, hugging me tightly in the bath where I drop my head onto his chest and hold him tightly back. I accept all the love he has to give me. I’ll never turn away from it ever again.
Later, we lie in the old four-poster bed. I’m the little spoon, loving the feel of his warm body behind me. Josh grips my hip, keeping me tightly bound to him. The nightmares, panic attacks, and dark impulses are put to rest. I am at peace. I feel emotion, and both accept and express love. I am human. For the first time in my memory, I fall into my deepest sleep and dream. I have no regrets.
Not even for what I did.
In my dream, I can see myself standing over him. The rage is so blinding I’ve reached the point of feeling nothing at all. I am numb to the hate. The staff is in my hand, heavy and cold. I keep the pressure steady on his windpipe. He has the most peculiar look in his eyes. He se
ems to be reveling in the moment. Jesus, the sick bastard, is proud.
In what he thought were his last moments, his impression was that he’d finally turned me into him. I couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t win. The dream fades on his blank wolf stare goading me to finish him off.
My next vision is of me seeing him taken away on a stretcher to an awaiting emergency vehicle; only he is not in a body bag. He survived. The sonofabitch lived.
The dream segues into me reviewing the security tapes of that night at the house. I see every painful, torturous moment of it. I am blind with rage. I fall willingly into the dark place of my soul.
Knowing of only one other person who could possibly feel the wrath that I felt at that moment, I decide to share the video.
The next sequence has me at the hospital. Ironically, he’s in the same hospital that Josh is admitted to, so it makes it easy for me to access him. I am his son after all and permitted to see him. One look at my eyes, and they know there is no way to deny the resemblance.
The doctor tells me what I already know; he has suffered some brain damage from lack of air. He is being stabilized on breathing machines for the moment. He is expected to recover with complications.
The dream is very clear from this point on, becoming a vivid memory. I enter his room, which is darkened. The only sounds are the air pump and the heart monitor. His devoted flock is nowhere to be found.
The mass of a man I’ve known my entire life has become a frail lump within days of him being here. As I approach his bed, I drag a chair along with me to sit beside him. He senses me and flutters his eyelids. The doctor told me that the brain damage had affected his speech, making him temporarily unable to talk. This is fine. I only need him to listen.
“Hello, Father.”
His eyes open slowly, then slide over toward me.
“Don’t worry, this isn’t a social visit, and I won’t stay long.” His brow relaxes. It must be difficult for him to not be in the dominant power position. His greatest strength has always been in his words. Now he’s been stripped of that strength.
“The last time we saw each other…well let’s just say we weren’t on good terms. I made a conscious choice not to cause you harm. I would have killed you, but a good man who has always shown me the value in human life, no matter how wretched, stopped me. Even when you called his wife a whore, his son the devil, and then you tried to kill him, that man still channeled the love of God into salvation for you. That right there is true devotion to God.
“By the way, Jacob is doing well. He’s here in this hospital with my mother. Do you remember my mother? The one you used to beat mercilessly every day? She’s also fine and thriving. You didn’t break her. You couldn’t. Her spirit was too strong. That was unacceptable for you. She refused to bend to your will. So, what did you do? You found a flock of sheep to do your bidding. You surrounded yourself with the weak minded because they are easy to control. You tried to make me weak as well, so you could control me. I gave you dominion over me.
“You are a cruel man who works under the guise of God’s work. Inside you’re a sadistic coward who uses and manipulates people to get what he wants, no matter the cost or the loss of human life.
“What type of man could call himself a father after the torture you put me through? You beat me bloody and unconscious. You mentally tortured me. You kept me locked in that dark basement room for days while I cried and screamed to be let free. Is that God’s will?
“You stripped away my self-worth, my ability to feel, and my capacity to love. What I discovered was that while I was incapable of forming these values for myself after you had wiped them away, they could be given back to me, but only by someone who loved me unconditionally. That person was Josh.”
His brow furrows, and I see how agitated he is becoming, but there’s nothing he can do. He will hear me out, and I have a lot to say.
“Many years ago, I met a boy. I loved him. And to my surprise, years later I found out he cared for me too. Besides my mother, Jay was the only person to show me affection. The affection turned physical. I knew from that moment on that I was not like the other boys. What I felt for him went beyond words. But the moment I found my truth, you took it away from me and made me leave. It was you, not me, who wasn’t able to deal with my sexuality. You made me feel dirty and sinful for the simple act of loving another human being.
“To be homosexual is not a choice. My sexuality is an inextricable part of who I am. It is built into my DNA. I cannot deny it. I cannot change it. I think the fact that you gave me that DNA is what angers you most. Because somewhere in you exists a part of me.”
His eyes narrow on me, but I continue unabated.
“You nearly broke me, making me believe I needed to be someone other than myself to be happy. I believed it. Somehow, I still tried to seek your approval. If I kept my head down and stayed on the straight and narrow, I hoped one day my father would accept me, even if I were someone else. So, I played the game. But my heart was fighting it every step of the way. Luckily for me, I found my love before it was too late.
“My bet is you never even took the time to find out what kind of man Josh had been. Let me tell you about him. He comes from a good home with a loving family. His family has become mine. They accepted me without question. He is the most caring, loving and affectionate person I know. He’s damn funny and has the respect of everyone around him. His friends call on him when they have a problem and need a hand to hold. He works so hard and is dedicated to his profession, just like me. He has talent oozing from his pores. He is patient and kind. Josh is protective of me in a way no one else is able. He understands me on a level even I cannot conceive. He’s forgiving, even when I make the worst decisions. And most of all, he loves me with all of my flaws, just the way I am.
“You didn’t know any of that, did you? All you saw was a man who had slept with another man and that went against your judgmental rules. You tried to take away this beautiful person who contributes so much good and positivity to this world. And for what reason? He loved me?
“I’ve learned a lesson over this past week about love. There is no one type of love. Love comes in many forms. Love can be beautiful. Love can be painful. It can be tragic, or dark as hell. And sometimes, love can be cleansing. One thing holds through it all. Love can never be taken; it can only be given freely.
“This was a hard lesson I had to learn. I was fortunate enough to have surrounded myself with people who supported and gave their love freely to me. When I received that love, I was, in turn, able to love them back. I had to learn to love.
“I believe good and evil do not exist exclusively in our world and that there is a balance between the two. You give love; you get love. You give hate. You get hate. These are the true tests of God’s love. And I have finally passed. I’ve been made stronger through my tests, and I’ve paid a lot of dues. The universe saw that, and it balanced out my wrongs with my rights. I retained a life, yours. And I got a life, his.”
He scrunches his face up in confusion. “He lived.”
His face falls on the news of Josh’s survival.
“Yes, it was touch and go, but he’s pulling through and doing better than anyone expected. Luckily, I’m in close contact with a family friend who’s a plastic surgeon. He’s brought in a colleague of his who is working to save his eye. He seems to think it’s possible.
“It’s crazy how ironic life can be. Josh is being cared for on the same floor of this hospital as you.” He tries to move, but the wires and tubes attached to his arms make it near impossible.
“You were always a fan of irony. I remember how you loved ironic punishments when I was a kid. If I snuck and ate more dessert than I was supposed to, you would make me eat enough of the same dessert until I vomited blood. Or the time I was running in the house and accidentally broke the arm off of the baby Jesus in our manger display, so you broke my arm.
“I’ve noticed none of your parishioners have come to wish you
well. I would have thought if they revered you so much as a man of God, at least one of them would come to see you. I guess that’s the difference between ruling by compassion and ruling in fear.”
He reaches for the button to call the nurse, but before he can, I place it just out of his reach.
“I believe I mentioned before that Josh has a lot of friends. When some of these people heard about what you did to him, needless to say, they were not pleased. As I said, Josh is loved by everyone. Especially me.”
I take a very small box from my pocket and open the lid. Inside it contains a needle filled with a clear liquid.
“This is succinylcholine. I’ll tell you what it is. This is a drug that anesthesiologists use to temporarily immobilize patients so they can put breathing tubes down their throats for surgery. It works immediately and lasts for about 4-5 minutes in the body’s system. After that, the body returns to normal motion. It needs to be administered by a certified professional because if given an overdosage, it could lead to permanent paralysis.
“Now, in most cases were this to happen, the patient would die because it would mean all body organs would cease to function, most importantly the lungs which would fail to provide oxygen to the brain. The exception to this, of course, would be if a patient is attached to a mechanized device, like for instance, a breathing machine, not unlike yourself. In this scenario, the patient would remain alive and breathing normally; only they would be permanently immobilized. The kicker is, they would still be conscious. So, in reality, they would be forced to live trapped in their own body while still aware of everything around them. But to the rest of the world, they would look like someone who is in a coma or a vegetative state.
“I will not kill you. I learned better values than that from Jacob, the only man who will ever be my real father. He told me not to kill you that day because there were worse ways for you to die. I respect life, so when they ask me one day if I want to pull the plug on you to give you peace and end your suffering, I won’t.