Date: Mon, 23 Sep 2002 13:56:13 -0400 (EDT)
From: Kai Wailbone <wailbone@excite.com>
Subject: Second Toughest in the Infants - Chapter Twelve-B
SECOND TOUGHEST IN THE INFANTS
by Kai Wailbone
Author's note: IMPORTANT - SO YOU UNDERSTAND, this particular
chapter is written from the FIRST PERSON PERSPECTIVE. This is the
first time I'm doing this in the story, but it might not be the
last. I'm just trying to see how well it goes...
WARNING - This chapter contains sexual situations which are
explicitly an abuse of power, namely between an older man and
younger (but of majority age) boy. Those of you with issues are
forewarned.
For Andrew, if you're still reading this - drop me a line, cool?
DISCLAIMER FOR CHAPTER TWELVE-B
This is a work of fiction. The characters are fictional,
though their names and descriptions are similar to real people.
These real people are depicted with character traits, past
histories, and sexualities that ARE NOT MEANT TO IMPLY ANYTHING
about their real-life counterparts.
Do not take this (the story) seriously. Please.
The title is from the Underworld album "Second Toughest in the
Infants." The chapter headings are from lyrics and song names.
Second Toughest in the Infants
Chapter Twelve - Resonator (Part 3.2)
___________________________________
"In my place
with lines that I couldn't change
I was lost..."
- Coldplay, "In my place"
___________________________________
Erik never believed me. Not that I can blame him - Erik always
thought of himself as more an outsider, anyway. Which, when I think
about it, is probably why I made sure to make him feel welcome and
included - a feeling of mutual exclusion.
It's all bullshit, I know, but... it helps to rationalize
these kinds of things, sometimes.
Anyway, Erik didn't believe me. And Aaron, Keith, and Paul...
we had a secret. It was an imperfect secret, since everyone knew,
but everyone kept it, too. Everyone but Erik, who didn't know and
was in complete denial.
It was about a week and a half into the final auditioning.
Every day another guy was called in with a private appointment with
Lou, presumably so he could get to know us better. Which, in a way,
was true...
He was always such a nice guy to us, coming over with
presents, laughing at our jokes, and always poking fun at the
industry that he himself helped to create. At first, it was like
having a long-lost rich grandfather who wanted to make up for all
the birthdays and Christmases he'd missed. Sometimes, out of the
blue, he'd pick a random bunch of guys (later, I'd learn we weren't
so "random") and take us out to a bar, or a club, and everything
was paid. Or we'd go out shopping, and he'd let us get whatever we
wanted. It really was great, and after my own initial guilty
feelings, I really enjoyed it.
So when he told me he wanted to see me on a Wednesday just
before lunch, I thought nothing about it. I was even kind of
looking forward to it, because... well, back then he and I hung out
all the time. You remember that? Probably not, I didn't know you
very well back then... but yeah, this was the guy who listened to
all my dreams about becoming a big star, and instead of laughing,
he really paid attention, and made some suggestions of what I could
do along the way. It was as if he cared, and wanted to see all my
dreams come true, too.
So that Wednesday I got into the car waiting for me - a black,
shiney Lincoln limo. Not a stretch limo, but still enough room to
relax, and a little divider between me and the driver. I had my
discman with me, and was grooving to Korn's "Life is peachy" while
we went down the road.
I remember to this day the first time I saw Lou's mansion.
I've been to Washington, and got to see the White House, and I
swear, Lou's house is bigger. It was one of those classic mansion
houses, where you own not only your yard but the whole
neighborhood. It was like walking onto the compound of some
important dignitary. There were security cameras over the door, an
an ID-card slot reader for the security guy to let me in... now I
wonder about a guy who needs so much standing between him and some
ambiguous threat, but then I just thought it was really cool.
About the first inkling I had that something was wrong was
when I was called up to a second-floor patio, where Lou was sitting
eating brunch, dressed in a dark red and black silk robe. The man
in a suit who had led me to the room closed the door behind me, and
I heard a lock being turned. Of course, paranoia hadn't even
entered into my head yet, so I thought little of it at the time,
and sat down quite calmly when Lou waved to the chair across from
him.
It was getting close to the time I normally had lunch, so of
course I was a bit hungry, and I accepted when he offered me
something to eat. There were these French pancake-things with jam
and syrup, egg sandwiches and sausages, delicate-looking pastries,
and about four kinds of juice. I was piling my plate high with
sandwiches and sausages when he started talking, but I was only
half-listening since it was mostly what he'd said before.
I think that was the last time I was that hungry. I sort of
lost my appetite completely after that.
He talked on and on about how great he thought someone as
naturally talented and motivated as I was had come into this
business, and under his supervision. And how he would like to see
me become a success, at least as big as I wanted to become, if not
more. And on, and on, and on... I can't remember everything he
said, and quite frankly, I have tried to forget. But... I can't
forget...
Sorry, I just...
It was hot in Florida... always is. Not that I'm not used to
it, but... I was wearing my black Creed t-shirt and a pair of
shorts. And sometimes, under the table, his bare leg would touch
mine...
He said I would need to learn how to bargain with people. That
it wasn't always about money. And that... that...
* * * * *
Sorry.
I don't like talking about this.
It's not that it was so bad... I guess... pretty much that
first time all he did was...
He told me there were... OTHER considerations in the look of
the band, and that he was going to be the sole judge of that. I...
I don't know when you first picked up on it, but I sort of figured
Lou was gay from the beginning, and the way he looked at us as we
walked by, you could tell he liked the young guys. So when he said
he wanted guys who were...
He wanted to make sure I had the right look. He had me take
off my shirt, and... he asked first, of course, but I let him rub
my stomach and chest... God, I remember thinking it wasn't so bad,
that he just wanted to make sure...
Sorry, I can't....
******************
It was my ass he liked. He was obsessed with it. He would sort
of... rub it while he jerked off, with me bent over the couch or
laying on the table or something. And I had to hear his breathing,
getting faster, and no matter how tightly I shut my eyes and
thought about something else, I couldn't shut out the sound of him
getting louder and louder, until... well, you know.
Not that he didn't touch me anywhere else. In fact, most of
the times he called me in, he would just have me sit on his desk,
pants down around my ankles while he jerked me off, or, if he had
the time, he would take off his glasses and...
Really, I think it would have been better if he had just been
quiet. But his moans and breathing were always so loud...
He never asked me to touch him. No, well, he asked. But...
* * * * *
Yes, I touched him. Not that I wanted to. I...
He made it clear what would happen if I didn't. And I...
Dammit, I didn't want to! I still feel sick every time...
* * * * *
If you asked me... If you told me...
I don't know. If I had it all to live over, knowing what would
be... ASKED of me...
Dammit, that asshole. He asked every time. I was twenty years
old, I knew what was going on. He can never say he forced me to do
anything. Shit, knowing him, he probably had video cameras
somewhere recording the whole thing. Perfect alibi.
But seriously. Dealing with it? Hah, yeah right. Do you know
how many times I've tried to just forget about it, to pretend it
never happened? I swear, if it was a physical part of me, no matter
how painful I would have slaughed it off a LONG time ago.
No, no, I never really contemplated suicide. I mean, not
REALLY. Briefly, and in a sort of fanciful way, but... no. It
didn't help that everyone seemed to know exactly what was going on,
but wasn't doing a damned thing about it. As if everyone was in on
the secret, but still didn't tell anyone. Even Jeremy knew, even
though he was very insensitive about it at first... remember that?
No, you probably don't...
I can't deal with it. Talking helped, that's for sure. I
talked to Jeremy about it. And Trevor... Erik never believed me.
* * * * *
I remember once, he had me sitting on his desk, naked except
for a basketball jersey, while he was on the phone. It was so...
President-Clinton-and-Monica-sex-scandal type thing, y'know? As if
he'd read about it and wanted to try it. There he was, making a
deal for a balloon ride or something, jerking me off, and making
these faces at me like we were just a couple of friends laughing at
some idiot on the phone. It was actually kind of funny...
And the pictures. God, the pictures... it was as if he needed
me half-in and half-out of every outfit known to man. And some of
them... he had me looking like I was twelve years old in some of
these things. Fucking pervert...
He never did threaten me with them. He joked occasionally
about them leaking onto the internet and stuff, but that wasn't
really a threat. Not that I think he went around showing people. I
don't think so, at least. Heh... for all I know, he could be
peddling them for thousands even as we speak.
His favorite was this baseball outfit, with the button-up
pants. I swear, either he had it made for me or it was just really
small, because it fit like... it left very little to the
imagination. Sometimes he'd have me wear this jockey support strap,
mainly because it had no real back to it, just two straps on either
side of...
* * * * *
I know Jeremy says... well, he didn't SAY, but he very
strongly hinted that Lou's done something like this with the
Backstreet Boys, and that had something to do with their problems.
I don't know... though it wouldn't surprise me.
What? No, he didn't force me. Not exactly. Jeremy said it was
an abuse of power, and that's all that matters. I'm not so sure. I
can't help wondering, you know, what was it about me that made him
think he could do this to me. As if I radiated some kind of...
energy or aura. Because I don't remember him calling many guys back
for repeat sessions the way he called for me. Of course, that could
be just me trying to be special, but... I remember all these guys
going, and suddenly... it was just me.
It creeps me out to no end to think that he chose me for the
band because he wanted to keep doing this. But it's been a while.
Since that day he wanted to fuck me.
Shit... don't get me started on this. I don't want to talk
about it.
* * * * *
Those damned cameras. In the shower. In the bedrooms. In the
dressing rooms. He actually showed me a couple of his tapes. Asked
me my opinion on some of them. I think he knew I was gay before I
told anyone, even Jeremy.
He would talk to me, joke with me, about things I did in the
shower... or the clothes I was picking out in the morning. He asked
me to... do things... in the shower. Which I did. All the time
knowing what he was doing at the same time...
How many times I just wanted to tear his eyes out, those pale,
beady things as emotionless as the cameras watching. I swear, if I
didn't know better than I ever wanted to know that he was human, I
would say he was a machine himself.
* * * * *
Sometimes I think Lou is so rich, he not only knows God's
unlisted phone number, but he paid Him off to look the other way a
few times. Because God sure as hell didn't stop him from doing what
he did.
I'm sorry, I... really am not handling this quite well at all.
You want to know the worst part about it? The part that makes
me wake up in the middle of the night, only to dive deep under the
covers? The part that makes me convulse in revulsion and shame?
There were times when I actually LIKED it.
I mean REALLY liked it.
Because... when it comes down to it, it's sex. And more than
that, it's sex with a guy. The first time I ever had sex with
another guy. And, in a way, it was kinda... exciting, you know? And
for a while, I even wondered what it would be like, to sorta date
him or whatever, and get everything when he died. Like a sugar
daddy or something, right?
But then... it was that one night...
Remember that weekend when Lou came over to visit, and he sort
of disappeared for a couple of hours, claiming he was talking to
the producers? He was with me. In Brian's room. I remember because
there was a picture of his mother that had gotten knocked off the
dresser, on the floor right in front of me, and I stared at it the
whole time.
Lou was on top of me, sucking on my balls, jerking off like
mad. I swear, the bed was creaking and I was half-praying for
someone to just walk in and catch us, and half-hoping he wouldn't
stop because...
Then he says, "I want to fuck you." He said it all gurgly, as
if he had his mouth full of something. And, in spite of that, I was
so hot I might actually have let him. Then he says, "I want to
break you in, boy. Turn you into a man."
Strange how your childhood ethics come back to haunt you at
the most inopportune and ironic of times.
I was brought up Christian, with the ideal that you don't have
sex... you know, lose your virginity... until you get married. Or
at the very least, until you find the person you want to spend the
rest of your life with. And... I guess for guys, getting fucked up
the ass pretty solidly says you're not a virgin anymore. And, quite
honestly, losing my virginity, even if it was going to be with a
guy, it wasn't going to with be Lou.
So, quite out of the blue, I said no.
It was... strange. He didn't get mad, at least at first. He
was all like, "Okay, okay," and didn't do it. And when he was done
and cleaned up, we went back down to join everyone again.
But things changed after that.
* * * * *
I can hate him sometimes. For making me... for ASKING me to do
the things that I did. For manipulating me with my dreams and
desires, telling me lie after lie after lie...
But most of all, for implying I wouldn't get chosen for the
band, that I would never make it in the music industry, because of
the one time I told him no.
I almost let him do it, that's how much I wanted this. I
remember telling Jeremy about it, and he actually flew down -
remember that? No... you weren't here, that's right. He flew down,
scaring the living shit out of Jay when he showed up at the door,
and refused to listen to anyone until after he'd spoken to me.
I'm not sure what happened. Jeremy... spoke to Lou, or
something. All I know is that things changed, Lou stopped bugging
me so much. No... he stopped talking to me altogether. I ignored
him, he ignored me. Which was better than what it was before. In
front of the cameras we barely managed civility, and I remember
watching one of the finished episodes, how I managed to hug him in
the old-granny style, with only my arms and shoulders touching him
at any time.
To this day Jeremy won't tell me what he did. Even when he
took me up to his place for a couple weeks. It must have been
something big, because... I made the band, obviously. Lou left me
alone... but Lou always hated Jeremy, even more than he normally
did, after that.
* * * * *
Lies, lies, lies... that's all he told me. Messing with my
head. Asking. Pushing. Prodding. And I let him. I guess I really am
a bit of a pushover. And I...
I let him.
No matter how much he hurt me, I let him...
* * * * *
The past can be very difficult to face. Sometimes it's easier
to pretend something else happened. Or that it didn't happen at
all. Sometimes it's easier to believe a fairy tale.
That's what I'd like to do. To believe a story, a beautiful
story, where that didn't happen. Where I... where we... didn't have
to do stuff like that.
_____________________________________
Okay, that wasn't as rough as I at first feared it would be. No, I
didn't get into explicit detail because, after all, this is Jacob
telling the story, and... well, from personal experience, you don't
go into detail about these kinds of things if you can help it. Yes,
this was modeled after a similar conversation that I experienced
first hand. Part vindictive, part self-blaming, part regretful...
to those of you who have never been abused, you may not quite
understand every twist and turn and need to tell certain parts, but
hopefully it's realistic enough for you.
-- Kai Wailbone wailbone@excite.com
____________________________________
Coming soon...
Second Toughest in the Infants
Chapter 12-C - Resonator (part 3.3)