Hurt Like Me

by P. A. Brokenshire

  "Are you almost there? Is your pretty little cunt aching?" A panting sound filled the room, heavy breaths, and I couldn't decipher their origin. It could have been him or me or both of us. All I knew in this world was how to move my body, how to ease that ache.

  "Close your eyes and feel, Avery. Just feel." He praised me with his words while his fingernails dragged across my lower back. The pain, the pleasure, it combined into an inferno. I arched into him for contact, and he didn't disappoint. He nuzzled my breasts, matching my insanity, biting and sucking. Closing my eyes, I embraced the near painful ache as the knot in my stomach tightened. So close. "Feel how much you want this, how slick you are against me, how hard my cock is for you. I want to see you fall apart, Pet...fuck, I want you to cum. Do it, cum for me."

  He commanded and my body obeyed. The knot finally unraveled. I came so hard that my whole body quaked as I released a scream of satisfaction. A guttural moan answered me, and I rode his thigh through the waves as they crashed over me. I was floating so high. It was nirvana.

  It wasn't until the final wave crashed that I noticed how bright it was suddenly. With the lust no longer clouding me I knew that I shouldn't still be seeing white. I opened my eyes to a blinding light. The headlights of a car. I sobered in a heartbeat as I caught the eyes of my classmates through the window, phones in hand. The face of the shadow in front of me went blank, emotionless, as I scrambled to my feet on wobbly legs. I didn't make it far. Not before the leash caught and I fell on all fours.

  Chapter 11

  Garrett- 10 years ago

  Trevor never failed me. He had done exactly as I had asked and taken a group of people outside to where the truck was parked behind the house. He had waited there, monitoring the camera from inside the den with his tablet-the one that streamed his family's surveillance system. Rich people liked to buy toys, night vision for example. He knew just the right time to turn on the lights of the truck and the whole room exploded in bright white like a flash bomb. I was able to enjoy the throbbing on my thigh for a few more precious seconds before Avery realized what had happened.

  She scrambled away from me, but the leash wouldn't let her get far. My heart pounded in my chest at the sight of her- a thin layer of sweat made her skin glow in the harsh light and her beautiful red hair was disheveled. Sex hair. She had amazing sex hair. Her tits were still exposed, the dress hiked up to show the black lace panties beneath. The skin at her neck and collarbone was speckled with my marks. One stuck out, my bite. I probably had that same mark on my chest. We'd branded each other.

  Her rosy lips were swollen, and I remembered the taste of them- peaches, citrus, and vodka. I felt a brief flash of regret thinking about the way she had tasted; how good she had felt. I should have at least fucked her. The fact that I would never get the chance now was enough to ruin the moment. She would have been an excellent fuck. I could almost still feel the nails on my scalp, her teeth on my chest. She'd done something with all that pain, unlocked something. The weird feeling nagged at me, but I dropped the leash and reigned in my emotions with a sharp laugh.

  "What's the matter, Avery? Don't want everyone to see you grinding against me like a bitch in heat?"

  She released a deep, angry growl that seemed to vibrate through my body. The tears fell fast as she covered herself with her dress, hastily gathered her phone, and ran for the door. The lights of the truck went out and I knew if I looked out the window, I would see everyone's phone lights as they scrambled for the front yard. They'd want to see her emerge. Fucking vultures. My mission was accomplished. She'd stay away from Chris now, stop asking those stupid fucking questions. I really didn't give a fuck what she did now, who she cried to or where she went. My cock cared though. Fuck, it hurt. I needed to cum and get the taste and feel of her out of my mind. I picked up my abandoned beer and drained the bottle before throwing on my shirt. Then I pulled on my pants, hissing at the ache of my cock rubbing against my boxers.

  I headed for the door and made my way to the kitchen. Heather was deep into a game of beer pong. The people in the room hadn't even noticed the commotion yet. The phones would start going off soon enough. Maybe I could beat them and seduce Heather. Maybe her body would erase Avery's. I pulled her into my arms and kissed her greedily. She melted into me immediately, tasting like cheap rum and soda. There was no fight in her, no intensity. My cock retreated. Seriously, my boner straight up disappeared like fucking Houdini. What the fuck?! As if on cue with my dick the phones started to chime. As I stood there utterly confused by my body's betrayal Heather reached into her bra and pulled her phone out. It took her about 20 seconds for her to watch what had just happened then the smack came. That shit stung and my dick stirred. Jesus Christ, that was confusing.

  "You're a pig. I should have known Trevor was full of shit," she said, scrambling out of the room. Her friends followed like the sheep they were.

  I nodded my head and gave a shrug. She definitely should have known that. I'd probably still be able to hit that before graduation, but it would be a lot harder now. At the moment it didn't matter though. Distraction. I needed distraction. I lifted a ping pong ball and shot it into Andrew's cup. He howled in approval and took a swig out of a beer can.

  "You're such a fucking badass, Hathaway," he said, smashing the empty can on his head.

  What was he, 12? Who actually still did that? Leave it to the quarterback to act like a complete idiot. A cheerleader I had hooked up with last year, Quinn, handed him another can, but her brown eyes were focused on mine. She looked like she liked that kiss even more than Heather did. Her body was angled towards mine, her eyes roaming my body. That was promising. I wondered if she was thinking about my lips between her deep brown thighs. We'd hooked up in the locker room at school with her still in her uniform. I could almost remember the exact sound of her moans, almost. They were overshadowed by Avery's panting breaths. I let out a sigh. Maybe Quinn would be up for a repeat performance.

  "Quinn, baby, you want to get me something to drink? Something as delicious as you maybe?"

  She smiled wide and giggled before skittering off to do as I asked. Yes, definitely promising.

  Andrew just shook his head in amusement and started up another round of beer pong. We situated the solo cups and I sipped on whatever alcoholic juice Quinn had concocted. The cocaine from this morning was barely lingering, but my competitive side was still very present. I wanted to win. I wanted to feel some sort of satisfaction. As fate would have it, I did win. First against Andrew and then against some other college dude from Harrow while Quinn stroked my back and arms.

  I was on my third game when Trevor walked into the kitchen. He clapped me on the back, showing me his phone. A video played of Avery storming down the street, heels in hand. It was a long walk back to town in the dark. She probably called someone. Her dad maybe. I laughed. The image was priceless. Her doting father picking up his daughter with sex hair. He'd probably want to kick my ass or press charges. What could he do about it though? Nothing. Nobody could do anything about it.

  I watched several of the videos as Quinn made me another drink. There were so many phones, so many different angles of that moment and not a single one showed my face. They showed hers though, her wide-open mouth as she screamed, her face peeking up over the top of my head, her fingers curled into my hair. There was zero doubt that she was in full control of the situation. She wanted it, there was plenty of proof. She was legal too, and there were so many recordings they'd never charge everyone.

  "I guess Heather picked her up on the main road and took her home," he said. "Speaking of Heather, I heard she flipped her shit when she saw the video and smacked you pretty good."

  I thought about that smack and how my body had reacted. I'd used pain for years to fight off my memories and that damn voice, but I'd never experienced it like that, tied so closely with sex and hormones. Between the high of Avery's bites and claws and Heather's sharp hand I was starting to see the pattern. The pain with the pleasure. It
was exquisite. I'd been living off the high for the past hour or so. The shit part is it was fading, and I couldn't feel the cocaine anymore.

  "Yeah, whatever." I said, landing another shot in one of the red solo cups. "You got any more percs?"

  "You're a fucking animal," Trevor replied and pulled out a bag from his pocket with a laugh. He dumped a couple of pills in my hand, and I downed them dry. I wished he would shut up. "People are going to be talking about this for months. Fuck, Avery is going to take a while to heal. You bit her hard, man."

  The thought of that bite led back to thoughts of the bite she had given me first. The memory made my dick hard again. It was about time it got some attention before the pills made me useless.

  Quinn came back with the second drink. I downed it, taking in her appearance, gaging how drunk she was. She was a few drinks deep, but she hadn't had any since I had started playing. She was nowhere near drunk. Me though? After all the beer and liquor, I was pretty damn close to being wasted. The percs would definitely tip me over the edge. I leaned in to kiss Quinn and she giggled against my lips. That was getting real fucking annoying. How did I put up with her before? I handed Trevor the ping pong ball in my hand. He didn't even question it, just sunk the shot as I walked away.

  We left the main house out the back door. Quinn trailed behind me, her hand finding mine in the dark. The path to the guest house was all grass so I let her hold on to me as we walked. She was going to trip on her heels if I didn't. When we entered the quiet, empty house I dropped her hand. I didn't want any pretense of romance. I wanted to fuck her. Plain and simple. My lips found her full mouth again as we scrambled for "my" room. She laid back on the bed I brought her to, and I let myself get lost in taking what my body needed even if it wasn't necessarily what it truly wanted. The fire wasn't there, the pain. I had to conjure up thoughts of my time with Avery to finish. I liked the idea of how she had hurt me. I wanted to hurt on the outside as much as I did on the inside.

  Chapter 12

  Garrett- 1 year ago

  "You're always short. Next time you better have all the money," Zero said. My dealer slapped the tiny bag of rocks into my hand. "I'm sick of your shit."

  I rolled my eyes. He knew I was good for it. I always paid my debts. I'd just have to find someone to steal from or get a hold of something to barter. Chris had cut me off, but I bet I could get another couple hundred bucks off Laura if I tried hard enough. She had a bleeding heart. Even if she wouldn't give me cash, she would buy me a laptop or some equally expensive shit that I could pawn if I gave her the right sob story.

  Zero shut the door in my face with a shake of his head. Judgment. He was definitely judging me. For a drug dealer he really was a self-righteous ass. I headed back to my roommate's car, careful not to stumble on the rocks in the driveway in my excitement.

  "Did you get it?"

  He shook in his seat as I dangled the bag in the air. I pulled it away when he tried to reach for it. Derek was known for being greedy. I could always count on him to take me to my dealers for a cut, but I hated to share. Problem was, I didn't have a car and Zero liked his privacy. He lived on a plot of land outside of Harrow. Way too far for me to walk.

  "Let's get out of here first."

  Zero would beat my ass if I got high in front of his house.

  We made it to the main road but pulled over not far from Zero's place. I couldn't wait anymore, and neither could Derek. He prepped the heroin and I got us two needles from a fresh pack. I may be an addict, but I was smart enough not to share needles. We didn't bother to talk anymore. Probably because neither of us could think about anything except the high that we were chasing.

  My arm throbbed under the pressure of the belt on my arm as I waited for him to finish up. While he packed up all the equipment, I decided I was done waiting. The spoon on the dash called my name and I answered. The moment that the plunger on my syringe was pressed down he started to scream.

  "What the fuck, man! You took almost all of it!"

  I hadn't, at least I didn't think I had. By the time I released the belt, I was thoroughly over giving a shit. Derek kept screaming, but my body was floating. There was nothing left to care about. I slumped into the car door and gave into the rush. I loved that part, where nothing mattered anymore. It didn't even phase me when the door came out from under me, and I hit the pavement with a hard thud. I heard the car pull away. Derek actually squealed the tires as he pulled off the shoulder. Good riddance. He had been ruining my high.

  The needle fell from my hand onto the pavement, and I walked. I walked until I couldn't feel anymore, until my legs finally decided to collapse under me. I lay down on the soft grass that lined the side of the busy highway. The cool August night air blew across my face as my mind spun, refusing to latch on to any one thought. The stars were so pretty, the moon full. I stared into the darkness and wished I was one of those bright spots in the sky. I wanted to feel the warmth, the light. My body was so tired of the shadows, of the dark and cold.

  I felt my eyelids droop. The grass was a lot more comfortable than I remembered grass being, even if it was damp from yesterday's rain. I didn't care if dirt coated my clothes, my skin. My body shut off and it was such a relief. My sleep was blissfully restful, the nightmares were fleeting. Just random images. A young Chris, a closet, eyes that looked so much like mine. My brain didn't hold on to anything in that state. I awoke to the sound of a voice that was too loud and too quiet at the same time.

  "You all right, Boy?"

  Hands touched my neck, soft feminine hands that felt like warm silk.

  "He's breathing, but we should call him an ambulance."

  This voice was different from the first- beautiful, angelic even. It was the word ambulance that brought me to alert. I attempted to protest. I'm not sure if it came through. Maybe I was imagining all of it. It wouldn't be the first time I had conjured up something while I was inebriated.

  "It's Garrett Hathaway." That was me. Although now the name didn't carry quite the same reverence as it once did, as it sounded coming from the angel's lips. I rested my head on something cushy, but firm. An arm? A chest? My body curled into the warmth instinctively. I tried to look at whoever it was. It was all just a blur.

  "Strung out, I reckon." A smack on the cheek. Light. Too light to be a turn on. Should have put some power into it. The pain would have been nice. "Can you hear me, Kid? Do you need me to call someone? Get you some help? Take you to the hospital?"

  "No hospital." I protested more strongly this time; the words felt wrong on my tongue. It didn't feel good to speak when all I wanted was the silence of sleep. "Just need...sleep."

  "Does he live around here?" The angel asked and the sound of her voice combined with the rhythm of her chest rising and falling drifted me back to sleep. There had been no energy left in me to listen, to focus.

  Time jumped and swirled. Dreams instead of nightmares this time. I dreamed of an angel. The glow around her was so bright that I couldn't make out her features, but she was warm and soft.

  I awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs with sweet maple. The bed beneath me felt way too good. Nothing like my shit mattress. I wondered what random girl I had convinced to take me home. The sheets were white, but dirty from my clothes. Someone had laid out a fresh set of clothes at the end of the bed. I furrowed my brow. Definitely not a girl's bed then. Not unless she had one of her dad's old shirts and gray sweatpants sitting around. A note was folded on top and written in chicken scratch.

  Not sure how much you remember but found you in a ditch outside of Harrow and you refused to go to the hospital. You seemed lucid enough so hopefully that wasn't a terrible decision. Feel free to take a shower and change. Bathroom is across the hall.

  Well, fuck, that was embarrassing. I considered ducking out the window, but the stench of my own body led me to the bathroom. It was plain, but clean. Like the bedroom. There was no indication of where I was, and no one bothered me. I rushed through the shower, scrubbing every
inch of my body as quickly as I could. Not just because I was in a stranger's house, but because I didn't like to linger when it came to being naked. My lack of muscle disgusted me. I was so hollow and covered in marks from the needles. I could feel my ribs as I scrubbed my chest. My body felt like a stranger's. I was half the man I once had been, at least when it came to my body shape. I still oozed sex. Girls would hook up with me left and right, but it's because they had a thing for waif thin rock stars with sharp eyes and a big dick.

  There were a lot of girls that had a thing for rock stars strangely enough. I was immensely glad I had gotten a vasectomy at 22 or I would probably have a million kids running around from those skanks. The thought made me shiver or maybe it was my missing body fat.

  I dressed in the clothes that had been left out for me and scrubbed my teeth with my finger and some toothpaste. I was adamant about brushing. I didn't want the drugs to take my teeth. I tried my best to limit smoking for the sole purpose of avoiding tooth decay. Good teeth were impossible to get back once they were gone so I'd stuck a lot to ingesting, injecting, or snorting my drugs of choice, which was anything I could get my hands on most days.