Date: Mon, 2 May 2016 18:13:16 +0000 (UTC)
From: Abra Cadabra <abracadabra923@yahoo.com>
Subject: innocent repentance part 3

Felix has received quite a lot of punishment that wasn't even meant for
him. For the first time, though, things are looking up.

[Note that Felix is suposed to be fifteen. I messed up in the first
sentesce of the first part by forgetting to mention it's third grade of
high school.]

If you can spare a buck, consider helping to keep nifty running.


~~~CHAPTER THREE~~~

Naked, sweating, cuffed and collared. Felix made it to the filling station
with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. His throat was so dry he
wouldn't have been able to speak. And of course it was still sore from
being fucked a little earlier.

Now back in the light, he saw why the metal strips didn't dig painfully
into his flesh. They had neon pink padding that flashed out at their sides.

Felix didn't have the mind to care. How was he going to get something to
drink?

Wait... that tractor... it was the one from before. The man must be inside
the station. That was even more reason to stay outside. Not that anyone
would give him a free water bottle the way he looked.

Impatient, the boy walked around the place. The tractor was open. There was
a sixpack of beer, certainly bought from the station.

Felix looked around to see if any cameras were aimed at him. There were
none. Could he be found out?

Of course the primal urge not to die of thirst outweighed all
concerns. Felix grabbed a can, opened it and downed the bitter liquid in
just a few gulps. It was gross, but in his condition it was the best thing
he could imagine. The boy had never drunken beer before.

One can wasn't enough. He opened another. Then a third. Finally his thirst
was quenched for the moment. If he would have been behind a wheel he would
have been charged with driving under the influence, he knew that much. He
wasn't likely to find a car he could use, but it was a good reference for
how drunk he had to be now. Felix wondered how long it would take for the
effect to set in.

He was still hungry and totally exhausted.

From the corner of his eyes he saw movement. The empty beer cans were
turning into black goo. Not stealing stuff applied to more than just
clothes.

Felix ran again as fast as the weights on his body allowed. Now there were
three creatures.

Just as he left the station it began to drizzle. He looked back for a
second and saw the creature still under the lights, not moving out from
under the roof. Was the rain enough to stop it? Where the black things
water shy? That was great news. If they didn't move while it rained, he
could go back home directly.

He crossed the road and made his way in a straight line to the creek. This
time he was going to use the bridge.

The beer was sloshing around in his insides, his vision degraded and his
steps became less secure. Nonetheless he made it back into the little
forest after a long time. He couldn't say how much time had passed because
the moon was still covered by clouds.

Finally he reached the bridge. The rain had increased and his hot sweating
skin was constantly getting cooled by wind. Just before he stepped onto the
construction across the creek he felt the itch again.

Rain had washed away the cum in his hairs, now those hairs followed,
running down his head. Felix reached up and felt for any remaining hair. He
had a broad Mohawk. The rest of his head was smooth. Nothing covered the
Fuck You on his forehead anymore.

Then he realized that what little body hair he had underwent the same quick
removal. Now he looked even more perverted. Nobody would think the
nakedness and erection were not his fault. He had to hurry before this got
worse. Walking along the creek, he waited for an opportunity to see wht
tattoo he had gotten.

As the clouds gave way for a moment he saw the writing on his left arm
spelling out "EVIL BASTARD". Seriously, what had James done?

The first black thing waited for him on the other side of the bridge. It
didn't move because of the rain but it might have lashed out if he got
close. He couldn't cross.

Deflated, Felix got off the bridge, walked along the creek until he found a
narrow spot. He threw the shoes onto the other side and stepped in. It was
even colder than before. And with the darkness and rain it was even more
dangerous.

At least the temperature combated his drunkenness and he got a good
mouthful of water to get rid of the puke-beer taste.

The weights on his body made it impossible to swim reliably. He had to wade
along the icy water for a minute to find a place sufficiently shallow for
him to walk without sinking.

Felix couldn't say for how long he had to walk through chest high water
near freezing point but eventually he found a way across. On the other side
he waited shivering for the internal heat to dry him. At least the
supernatural `gift' would make sure he didn't die.

After a little walk he found his shoes again, slipped in and continued his
way home.

Very soon the itch set in again. He really regretted ever spilling the goo
on him. Actually he regretted everything about this day. He hoped James had
worked out a full solution in the meantime.

Felix stumbled. Something wouldn't let him take a step. He looked down and
in the near darkness of night he found a rope connecting his ankle
cuffs. It was about a shoulder width long, letting him barely take steps.

That was inconvenient. At least it wasn't a permanent, cosmetic change like
the Mohawk. Somehow he felt a bit of gratitude.

As the rain came to an end, he made it out of the forest and found his
street again. The key to the front door was under the flower pot. He let
himself in and saw his father's suitcase on the stairs. His parents were
home.

He didn't want to wake them. First of all he didn't want them to see him in
his current condition, secondly there was likely nothing they could do.

Felix walked through the downstairs corridor quietly and into the
kitchen. He had to eat something right now or drop dead. The only thing in
the fridge that required no preparation were yoghurts. Mother always
stocked up on yoghurts. He wolfed down several of them until he felt
full. Then he drank some water. Luckily the yoghurts were meant for all
family members and eating them didn't count as stealing.

Oh, right. What tattoo had the last tickle given him?

The fridge's light let him see his reflection in the kitchen window. There
was "SLAVE" written down his spine. Huge letters from his neck to his
tailbone. Of course. Felix groaned. What else did this unknown person
consider necessary for him to look like a slave? `On the bright side, that
might mean it was the last such mark and he was done getting surprises.

On the counter was his dad's phone, charging during the night.

Felix knew the code and unlocked it. He called James.

"Dad? What's up?"

"It's me, bro. Listen, I made it home. Our parents are asleep. Where do I
need to go? I want this to be over."

"Well, you have to get to a sage living couple blocks down. Corner of Baker
Street and Tanner Road."

"And he can help me?"

"Probably. I called him and he said he knew what to do if you showed up. It
takes a certain ritual and the curse is broken. My girlfriend says that
checks out."

"Who is that girlfriend even?"

James hesitated. "The daughter of the crazy witch that cursed you. That
witch doesn't like me dating the chick."

"I'm going through this because you couldn't keep it in your pants?!" Felix
whispered loudly.

"Sorry, bro. Now, be on your way. That sage won't stay up waiting for you
forever."

"No, I want an explanation and an apology, you fucking-"

"Bye."

James hung up.

After quietly raging for a minute, Felix walked upstairs – extra quietly
because his parents slept right under his room – and looked through his
closet.

He could wear things he already owned. That should make it a lot easier to
get around. With his ankles tied to each other he had no way of putting on
pants. He pulled out his jockstrap and put it on by sliding it over his
head and down his slender, sweaty torso.

The jock strap covered his dick but did nothing to hide his erection. It
would have to do. Next he was going to work on the pants situation.

Obviously he could just cut one apart, put it on and tucker it back
together. Who would know the difference in the darkness of night?

Felix went down to get scissors. There was a new black thing. It had been
created from his dad's phone. Even though the boy had only borrowed it,
that still counted as taking what wasn't his.

And it had stopped raining so he really had to hurry to get away. With his
ankles tied he was barely faster than the creeping black monsters.

The boy walked out the front door and closed it to delay the creature. He
had taken the key inside with him, which meant he was now locked out until
his parents woke up.

Felix hobbled along the road. The street corner James had
mentioned... Where was it? Baker Street – that one was nearby. A
commercial street. There would be people even at this time.

Where was Tanner Road? His brain was slow after the exhausting event and
three beers, but eventually it dawned on him. He had to walk through half
the town. James had exaggerated how close the place was.

He had to get there anyway.

Felix began his march. Now that the rain had stopped his sweating took over
again.

He walked briskly. There was almost nobody in the streets but he did see a
few people in the distance. Because it was a small town, the likelihood of
anyone knowing him was high. Felix did his best to avoid drawing attention
by stepping into side alleys and waiting until the people had passed by.

He felt pretty lucky to see very few people. The absence of the usual
bar-goers and loiterers was almost suspicious.

About halfway down the Baker Street he felt the itch again. His hands were
pulled back and the wrist cuffs snapped together through rings that hadn't
been there before. They weren't even shoulder wide apart like his ankles,
no, they were directly connected. He was a lot more restrained now. He was
so surprised that he forgot to keep his guard up.

A car driving by hollered at him and he got nasty looks from the driver who
noticed his attire, but nothing terrible happened. After that evening,
Felix considered that a success.

In a shop window he saw – with some twisting – what tattoo had
appeared. There was one letter on each of his fingers. Eight letters
together spelling out "DUMB FUCK". Should he consider himself lucky that
his thumbs were still unmarred?

He made it to the corner eventually.

Unable to use his tied hands, he rang the bell with his shoulder and
waited. The door opened and the sage greeted him with a smile. It was the
tractor guy.

The teen swallowed hard.