Date: Fri, 17 Apr 2009 16:56:59 -0500
From: Andy West <andyoutwest@live.com>
Subject: Asleep On the Beach Chapter 30
Asleep on the Beach
Chapter 30 Lenny
Disclaimer: Please be advised that under aged youths are advised to not
read this material, and indeed doing so may be illegal where you are -- so
check your local laws first as there are sexual encounters ahead by
youngsters in this story. If this offends you, perhaps you should not have
read this far, and I certainly would not advise continuing further.
Everyone else is welcome.
Any comments are welcome: prompt and courteous replies from:
andyoutwest@live.com
Chapter 30 Lenny
Warmth woke me. Luxurious, radiating warmth. Last thing I
remember was me shivering cold...ever since that gross old man took me and
brought me to this filthy barn I have been freezing cold. But now, I am
warm; I don't understand. Vaguely I recall some of the brutality. His
cock. His gnarly old man's cock; I can never ever forget that. It was
gross. Big, menacing, impossibly huge and...so straight I thought it must
be fake at first. How did that fit inside of me?
Why? Why me? I still don't know why he did this.
Me and Brant were just kissing...OMG! Brant!
Now I'm awake...only I can't see. What the...?
"DADDY!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream...only I can't scream. It didn't come
out as a scream.
Hands. I feel hands on my arms, pressing me down...I can't see
them...they aren't the same rough and mean hands of that old creep who hurt
me...but still it terrifies me. I'm screaming and fighting...Why can't I
see?
What? I hear a woman's voice. I think I am in a bed, but I don't
understand. I can feel the bed is warm and ...and clean. I am not in the
barn anymore. God. Where am I? What happened to me? Am I dead? Why
can't I see? Where is my Daddy? Where is Brant?
I start crying. I hate to cry. I never cry. When Momma died, I
cried all my tears. I don't cry anymore. Only. Only, when he was poking
that huge dick up inside me...I did cried. I screamed. I prayed. Nothing
helped. No one helped. He was going to kill me. I knew it. He knew it.
But he wouldn't just do it. No. He had to keep porking me. Over and over
and over and over. My hands were tied. The mattress he put me on was on
the floor, and it smelled of piss. Some of it was mine. And shit...yes,
even mine. And there was his filthy smell. He smelled of old sour sweat,
and dirty butt, and old sex smells. He smelled dirty...just like his
actual self; filthy -- inside and outside.
Who is this woman pulling and pushing on me? I am so confused. Why
can't I see anything? I can't hear right either. Those hands
again...pressing on me, pushing me down. Her voice...what is she saying?
I want my Daddy! Where the fuck is Daddy?
~~00~~0~~00~~
I guess I blacked out again. I think I had a panic attack. Barely
opening my eyes...a trick I mastered trying to fake out that pervo in the
barn...I can see I'm in a hospital bed, in a busy room. There are lots of
people around me, all of them doing all sorts of stuff. There are machines
I never have seen before all over the place. I bet they are all expensive.
They look it. They are the kind of stuff us kids get yelled at all the
time to "leave that alone! ...I told you not to touch that! ...Look with
your eyes, not with your hands!" Good grief.
Only, I think they strapped me to the bed. I'm barely opening my
eyes though...I want to make sure I'm really safe. I still smell the piss
from that barn and mattress. I bet they haven't even bathed me since I got
here to this place. Who brought me here? Who rescued me? I know I've
been rescued because everything is white and clean. I'm up off the floor,
there aren't any spiders, and hay, and splinters...no piss filled
mattresses. There don't seem to be any rats scurrying about.
That thought made me shiver.
Rats.
In the barn I was afraid they would eat me. I saw so many of them.
They made me scream and cry. Only he hit me until I shut up. I think the
rats got mad at him for that...because they never did eat me. I don't
think they did anyway.
An old woman in a blue cotton-candy colored gown with Curious George
all over it came over when she saw me shiver just now. Her hand is warm,
her smile lets me know she is some kid's grandma. I don't know how I know
that...but I do. She makes me feel warm and safe already. I'm glad she's
here to take care of me. I want to ask her about my Daddy...about
Brant...only I am afraid to talk.
I know, you think that is a stupid way to think. I'm in a
hospital...right? Only...it isn't easy to make my brain believe THIS is
real. I keep thinking I am going to get kicked in the ribs again if I make
eye contact, or if I whimper. Sometimes he kicks me if I just move because
my arms or legs are going numb because of the cramped positions he leaves
me.
The kindly old woman leans in and whispers to me, "It's okay , Baby.
It's okay. You are safe now. Your friends rescued you, Honey. No one is
going to hurt you." Her words are as warm as her hands. She knows how to
make a boy feel safe and...well...loved I guess is what I mean. She don't
know me...but she cares about me. I can tell it about her.
"Can you open your eye for me Darling?" she asks softly. I feel her
touching me lots of places to check me out. Her hand on my face is soft,
barely there...but just enough for me to know it's a woman's hand, a gentle
touch. She knows I have a fever...I see that in her eyes. There is brave
love there...in her eyes...but also sorrow. Looking at me makes her sad.
She wants to cry. But she wont. Nurses don't cry. Nurses see all kinds
of bad stuff. But they don't cry. I wonder if they go home and cry? Does
it mean I am in terrible shape if she is about to cry? I feel panic rising
again.
Eye. She said EYE. Is that why I can't see good? Is there
something wrong with my eyes? Why did she say EYE? If she would turn my
hands loose I would touch myself, my face, my eyes. I think I have
bandages all over my head. That must be it. That is why I can't see. I'm
bandaged up. Did something happen to my eye? I can't remember. I don't
think I got hit in the eye...I mean...not in a way that would poke it out
or something.
What happened? ... ... ... ... ...
Thinking is hard; remembering even harder. What happened? Come on,
dang it Lenny...THINK!!!
Okay -- I can do this. Focus. Think. Remember. Harder... Think
harder...
Well...okay...I think...no...I know I was getting fucked...again...
Wait...I think it was like the fifth or sixth time. I tried to keep
count...no...I don't know why...I just did. Somehow, he had pushed so hard
that my head was completely off the piss-laden mattress. My face was
getting pounded into the wooden floor. Each time he thrust his creepy dick
inside, he pushed my whole body hard forward and made my face scrape on the
floor. I couldn't lift my face, because my hands were tied and I was
laying on top of them. That is when I felt a sharp stinging in my eye...my
left eye.
OMG
The left eye is the one not opening now! The left eye is dark. I
didn't realize it until now. I can see light and movement with my right
eye. But, when I close my right eye...blackness. I'm blind. Shit for
luck. Man. How will I play baseball with one freakin eye? Fuck.
~~00~~0~~00~~
"Lenny," she reads my mind. "You were very seriously hurt, Baby.
But we're going to get you all put back together again...you are going to
be okay now." She pats the hollow of my shoulder...her touch makes me
wince in pain.
Put back together...am I broken it two? Have I lost pieces of
myself?
I try to open my eyes wider...something is bad wrong because it
hurts like holy fuck to open them...and something else is fucking wrong
too...because I don't think one of my eyes is working. My ears burn
because of my own choice of words...even though I only said them in my
head. More panic. I remember...my left eye is not working. Did they take
it out? Or, will I have one of those gross looking "dead" looking eyes all
white and pukie looking
"Shit," I say.
The nurse only pats me, my language don't even make her blink.
"Your Daddy went for coffee, Darling," she reads my mind again.
"When he gets here we'll take these bindings off and we'll tell you what we
know about what has happened to you." I'm glad she reads minds. I wonder
if all nurses do this? Or just mine?
~~00~~0~~00~~
Daddy came into the room. My heart turned upside down.
~~00~~0~~00~~
Okay, so now I understand what was happening to me, why I was
freaking out when I woke up...Daddy said that was yesterday. My right eye
is so badly damaged that I won't ever be able to see out of it. I'm blind
in my right eye. I've never been blind before. I don't know what this
means...Daddy says that it will just feel like I'm in a tunnel...like
something is blocking my view. I asked him if everything will be blurry,
but he said he didn't think so. He said my "good" eye'll get tired easier
until I get used to things. I don't know I'll ever get used to one eye.
When I asked him about how it looks, Daddy cried. That scared me.
Remember that I told you before how I used to lie in my bed nights and
listen to him cry after my Momma died. Him crying now made me think I
might die because of all that has happened to me. That made me cry.
"Daddy," I whispered. Daddy was sitting beside me at first, but now
somehow was his face in my lap as he cries. I feel his shoulders
shuddering, and his warm breath and the dampness of his tears on my lap.
They untied me from the bed already...so I reach out and touch him now.
Touch his shoulders; his hair feels dirty...it has been a couple of days
since he's had a bath, and his whiskers are days old too. I think he was
afraid for me.
This is a big change. He is always my comfort. He is the one who
holds me when I cry. Can I really comfort my own Daddy? How does this
work? What do I do?
I feel dampness on my face. I'm crying too. "Daddy, am I going to
die?" My voice sounds weird. It is really low and gravelly. More than
normal.
"No," Daddy says sitting back up and trying to re-gain his
composure. "No, Baby, you aren't going to die...why did you ask, Buddy? "
"Y..you cried like this when Momma..." Dad wiped his face, sniffed
up, and kinda smiled at me while he got himself under control.
"No, Buddy," he said finally through his sniffles and wipes. "You
don't miss much, little Buddy. No. I was crying because I came so close
to losing you, Len. I was crying because you got hurt so badly." He had
moved around and now had me hugged up. I realized that everywhere he was
touching me I was all sore and hurting. But, having him hold me made
things seem so much better. All those tears, all those prayer...this is
what I wanted. I wanted my Daddy. I wanted to be right here in his arms.
"Somehow , we'll find a way to get past the hurting Len. Your eye
won't be the same...but you're here. You made it past the very worst, Son.
Tomorrow will be better. The day after that will be a tiny bit better than
tomorrow. We'll take it all a day at a time. We'll do it together."
~~00~~0~~00~~
At some point I must have went back to sleep, because I woke up and
I was in a room...a different room. Daddy was sitting over to my left side
in an uncomfortable looking chair. My mind raced back to our living room
and Momma's big comfortable green over-stuffed chair. Daddy needs that
chair up here. He would be more comfy. Thinking it makes me smile. I can
see him and Liam's Daddy putting it in the back of the truck ad diving it
up here, dragging it in the elevator. If I was with them I'd sit in it
while the elevator moved. Getting off the elevator Dad would send Larry
(Liam's Daddy) to distract the nurse so he could get the dang thin in my
room! Ha!
I lay in the bed with my eye open, yet otherwise motionless. I take
a mental survey of everything I feel. My knees hurt. Like when I fell off
my bike when those moron dogs chased me and I hit the curb. Skinned the
hide off `em...that's what the feel like now. My face hurts. A flash
memory of a hard fist hitting me in the face, and a harsh backhand against
my cheeks...okay...my face is bruised. I wonder if he broke anything on
me? That nurse said I was broken to pieces...is that what she said?
No...she said they would "put you back together."
My wrists hurt. I feel the rawness. Memories of blood, of plastic
zip-ties, of rope burns. But is it more than that...My right wrist hurt's
like a deep dull ache...but not a small dull ache...a BIG dull ache. I
have to look at it. I lift my hand and twist my head down just a tiny bit
so I can see better. Shit. It hurts to move either my hand, or my neck.
Fuck.
There is a cast on my arm. I guess it's broken then. Damn.
Breathing is weird. I feel a sharp pain in my middle...any movement
makes me think a knife is poking in me. Ribs. I bet the fucker broke my
ribs. Well ain't this lovely? Good grief. I draw a deep breath...but I
can't do it fast..or very deep. Hurts too much. I sigh, exhaling slowly.
Daddy is waking. Good.
When Dad looks over at me a huge smile spreads over his face.
Stretching as he rises, he come over to me and leans in to kiss me. I
expect a kiss on the forehead, but he kisses me on the lips. I liked that.
"How ya feeling Buddy?" he asks quietly, but with genuine brightness and
expectancy.
"With my fingers," I say, grinning the tiniest amount as I lift my
left hand and wriggle my fingers at him.
Dad smiled broadly. Momma said that to me almost every day. I had
forgotten I knew to say it. Saying it makes me feel good. I smile.
Smiling hurts, but I do it anyway. I am glad Daddy is here.
"Daddy...?" I asked softly. He smiled at me as he waited for me to
form my questions.
"What happened?" My lips quivered as I fought my emotions. I
didn't want to cry...I was determined to not cry. "W..why did that man
hurt m..me? Why did he hurt Brant? Is Brant...is he? Is he dead? Did he
get away?"
"Shhhhh...," Daddy moved over and stroked my hair. "Honey, Brant
was found. He is okay. You saved his life, Baby." Dad, looked over at the
chair, then he surprised me. He reached under me an lifted me effortlessly
completely out of the bed. I had an IV in my arm, but I was holding it so
that it came along with us easily. As all that was on the same side as the
chair, it really wasn't too big of a hassle. Dad sat down in the chair and
pulled me to his lap. I wished it was Momma's chair. After making sure I
was all covered up and snuggled in...the blankets were scooped up with me
off the bed...he settled in with his chin lightly on my head, my face
nestled to his warm chest. I could hear his heart thumping beneath his
shirt. His voice was somehow distant ant tinny. Still..this was perfect.
He held me, stroked my shoulders, back, and bottom as he very quietly and
tenderly re-told the whole story of what happened. He started with Liam's
memories of me and Brant on the beach back when Jared began tricking us
into following him; he told me of finding Brant naked on the beach; he
talked about Brant telling them how I kicked that bastard in the balls and
helped Brant escape; he spoke of the search for me everywhere, of the
police and community all coming together to try to find out what happened;
he talked about the fight Liam and Jason got into at school, and then how
they remembered what Brant told them about the computer; he told me about
how Big Jim and Officer Hauk followed and connected dots until they
discovered the ranch house...and the barn behind the ranch house.
The parts of the story about Ray getting shot, and Liam getting
shot, and Jason getting smashed in the face were horrid. My heart raced
with the excitement of what they did, but my stomach nearly wretched when
he said Ray and Liam got shot. He told me how brave they were...that only
minutes more would have meant the difference of me dying or living. Daddy
told me Ray stepped into manhood with a single brave decision. He said he
was afraid Ray would be very sick for a very long time. There was talk of
him being moved to the Mayo-Clinic (whatever the heck that is, and where
the devil is it??) so they can re-habilitate him and perform all the brain
surgeries he will need to get back to normal. Daddy said he thought Ray
was going to be fine...but that it would take a very long time, and Ray
would have to be as brave about his own recovery as he was about rescuing a
friend. I smiled at that. I still hurts to smile.
After a very long time of listening to the story, and Daddy rocking
me gently in his arms I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was still in
Daddy's arms, and we were still in the chair. But it was now dark
outside...Daddy was asleep too.
I needed to pee. BAD! I didn't have a boner. I bet I won't get
another boner until I'm a hundred.
"Daddy," I whispered. Daddy chortled or made some wake-up noises.
He pulled me closer to him in a mild hug.
"Mhmmm," he mumbled as he nuzzled his face into my hair.
"I gotta take a whiz," I whispered. I don't know why I was
whispering...maybe because we were in a hospital, or because we both just
woke up...I don't know.
"Okay..." he said, but his voice trailed off as he slipped back to
sleep.
Looking around the room, I spied what I hoped was a bathroom. This
was a weird hospital room. The first place I woke had curtain dividers,
and lots of people...lots of noises. This room has an outside window with
blinds built into the glass, and glass walls at the other end. Curtains on
the glass wall looked like they could be drawn shut or open...they were
open now. Just outside the room was a big work thingy with computers and
three nurses sitting doing paperwork stuff. I think they call that a
nurses station. I was trying to decide if I could get up and make it to
the bathroom by myself. I don't remember the last time I stood up on my
feet under my own power.
Just as I made up my mind to try...or risk pissing on my Daddy...a
nurse stuck her head into the room. Thank goodness for nurses. I like
nurses...so far. This one was younger than that nice old lady in the other
room. But she was a sweet smile and looked like she really cared about me.
She was looking at me sitting bundled up in my Daddy's lap, and him asleep,
like we was a painting in museum somewhere...not like we were real people.
Lifting my small hand up I motioned her over with my one index finger in
the universal sign for getting one's attention. She perked up and stepped
into the room and over to me.
"Hey, Sweetie!" she half whispered. "How are you feeling?"
I resisted to give her Momma's line about fingers, and just
shrugged. Dang. That hurt. I motioned her closer with my finger though.
She leaned in conspiratorially towards me. I cupped my had to her ear and
told her my problem. She straightened up and patted my thigh and swiftly
stepped out of the room. Dang it. I gotta GOOOO!!
In like two seconds she re-appeared with a wheelchair. Cool.
With seasoned skill, she extricated me from Daddy's lap and had me
in the wheel chair in no time. Even a girl can pick me u with no problem.
Dang. But...I can't worry about that right now...I'm seriously gonna piss
on myself! Hurry!
Nurse Lowe (I read her nametag) wheeled me out after putting the IV
stand thingy in front of me. She had me push it ahead of us as we rolled
down to the end of a corridor. It looked to me like this was one huge
square room, with a big open area in the middle that had all the nurses
stuff, and the outside was ringed by tiny glass-fronted rooms like mine.
I'm not totally sure. I am kinda short and was sitting down. But that's
what I guessed anyway.
Down at the end of the corridor was a bathroom. She stopped me,
locked the wheels, then moved to open the door.
"Let me help you stand up, Sweetie," she said kindly. I nodded and
she lifted me from the chair by placing her arms firmly under my armpits
and stepping backwards slowly. Like a pop-up book figure, I rose slowly
from the chair, my knees still bent as if I was sitting down. When I felt
the weight of myself upon my knees and feet I knew I was going to be able
to at least stand up...so I did.
That was when I realized my butt was shining through the open gown
they had put on me. Before I could turn red, Nurse Lowe reached behind me
and held the flaps shut, protecting my privacy. I didn't even have to ask.
So, I took baby steps forward to the door. Somehow in my mind I knew there
was a crisis looming. How was this really going to work?
But, Nurse Lowe had done this before I guess. She took my left hand
and put it on the IV rolling thingy, and with her one hand resting on my
hip holding my gown together, she guided me slowly through the doorway and
helped me turn and sit on the pot. I don't think she saw anything but my
skinny ass, but she pretended to give me privacy and let eh gown cover my
front. I put my hand under the gown and reached for my business to make
sure I was going to really piss in the pot and not on the floor. When I
actually touched my dick I screamed. Not a little scream ether.
Nurse Lowe jumped, as my scream scared the shit outta her. She
closed the gap between us in a nanosecond and just as swiftly lifted the
gown to see what I was screaming about.
What I saw when she lifted the flaps nearly made me pass out.
Somehow I managed to stop screaming...I was so shocked. My dick and pubic
mound was swollen and had an orangey, yellowish crap all over me...like
someone actually painted my dick orange-yellow. There was prolly twenty
cuts and scrapes all over my private area. My balls were swollen twice
their normal size...and what made me scream in the first place was a huge
scab right on my disk. It hurt like hell to touch it.
Relieved that my Dick hadn't fallen off in the toilet, Nurse Lowe
told me I was okay. She said the wounds were treated by the emergency room
doctors. She said the paint wasn't paint but as some sort of medicine.
She called it by name, danged if I can tell you what she said. I was still
in shock over my dick. I didn't even know it was hurt like that. She told
me she thought it would still work fine, but that I needed to tell her if
anything burned, hurt, or felt bad when I actually could pee. I realized
there was some sort of cup thingy inside the toilet that was going to hold
my pee. I guess they keep that for some reason. She kept watching this
time until I pissed in the cup thingy. It was embarrassing, but hey...what
can a guy do? The relief of letting the pressure in my bladder empty was
worth having a girl watch me do it. Once she was sure I was done, she took
a piece of tissue and handed it to me...wtf was I supposed to do with this?
I guess girls wipe themselves after they piss. I took it from her and
wiped the end of my dick off. She smiled approvingly at me as I looked for
someplace to toss the dumb thing. I stood up by myself, and tossed it into
the toilet behind that cup thingy. I guess that was the ticket. She
helped me back to the chair and took me back to the room.
On the way, she explained that I first woke up in the emergency room
triage station...that they had bandaged my whole head. That must have been
why I freaked out three. Then, she said they brought me up here to the ICU
for observation after they set my wrist in a cast.
Oh.
She said that later they would move me to a real room after they had
a chance to evaluate me and make sure I didn't need constant watching. I
don't know how they can figure that one out. I suppose that is what
doctors and nurses get paid to know.
When we wheeled back into the room, Daddy was waking up. He
stretched and yawned loudly, making the nurse and me giggle a little bit.
Daddy got up and helped me back into the bed, and carefully arranged my
blankets. While I was out, I guess another nurse had come in and changed
the sheets and made the bed. There was no sign of my other blankets and
these were nice and warm.
The clean bedding made me realize I still smelled of piss and vomit.
It was still in my nostrils.
"Daddy," I said as he leant over me to kiss me on the lips again. I
waited till he pulled back and was looking me straight in the
eyes...eye...sorry. "I stink. I still smell like the piss and puke from
that man." I blinked...Daddy had no expression on his face. "He would
stand over me and piss on me...after...after he..." my voice trailed off.
I could tell Daddy was straining to not be angry...he wasn't getting
all ugly...but I could tell he was pissed.
"Son. I promise we'll get you bathed properly as soon as we get you
to a room. Okay?" I nodded. "Tell you what. Wait right here...don't go
anywhere!" Ha! Like that's gonna happen. He stood and went to the nurses
thingy and I saw him pointing to me while talking to the Nurse Lowe. She
smiled and said something...couldn't read her lips though. She nodded and
Daddy came back into the room. I had a questioning look on my face.
"Your nurse will be in here to help clean some of that up for you
Buddy. She said that maybe by morning you can have a proper shower."
Just then, Nurse Lowe came in and she was pushing a cart. On it was
two small tubs. I found out both had warm water. Shit.
Yup. Can we say sponge bath? Ever have one? Damn-it. I can
honestly say I have, now. Doh!
Well...just thinking of it made me want to die ten thousand times
over. But, I realized she'd already seen my skinny ass, and scabby dick.
What else was there to be afraid for her to see? Still...I was
embarrassed. But, she jus hummed a nice catchy little song...I don't
remember the tune, but I know I have heard it before...I bet it was blasted
Mother Goose shit. She better not start singing it if that is the case.
She didn't. She was kind and gentle, not lingering too long where I would
be most embarrassed of, and yet knowing also which areas hurt most, and
which needed a bit more TLC. No boners. I was half afraid I'd bone up.;
but, also I feared I may never ever bone up again. I don't know if I even
WANT to ever bone up again. *Sigh*
While she worked questions crowded forward in my mind...I resisted
them, tried to force them back to where they came...but then they just
popped in there anyways...questions like: What happened to the bastard who
hurt us all? Daddy didn't tell me. What happened to Jared? When will I
see my boys? Will they hate me because I got them into this mess? Will
the hate me because of how much it cost them to free me? What if...oh
shit...I can't think all this stuff...I just can't do it now. I'll ask
when I wake up. When will I see Brant? Will Liam come see me here in the
hospital? I bet Jason thinks I'm a dumbass and won't ever talk to me
again. A million questions...but I kept them inside, fearing the answers.
Nurse Lowe was sweet and patient, I think she sensed my
inner-turmoil, but she kept working and soothing me more and more. She
used plenty of soap, and kept the water warm in the sponge. When she got
to my face...it was sooooo good to feel the warm water and smell soap. I
felt like a rag doll when she finished and covered me. As she left, Daddy
told me to go on and let sleep come. He said he'd go find me something to
eat when I woke up.
I barely remember him sitting back in his chair.
The piss smell was less noticeable...though faintly I could still
smell it. But, the vomit smell was gone.
Sleep came over me like a welcomed friend; warm, inviting, kind, and
gentle. I slept solidly for the first time in days.
Okay...half of you agreed with my politics, half hated hearing my
point of view...I suppose that is about how the last six elections have
gone, huh? Anyways, thanks for all the prayers and kind wishes about my
job situation. I have great confidence things will be alright. As for
Washington...I fear no one ought depend on that lot for real help
(regardless of who resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue).
Also, I am considering beginning a blog. The sheer volume of email
from this story has prompted me to realize that there are many topics that
we all care deeply about, and yet we come from such varied backgrounds,
geographic locales, and economic situations. I'm guessing there is a lot
we have in common and perhaps a blog would be a good place to give those
things a whirl. I'd love to hear from some of you what you think of that
idea, and what topics you might feel worth discussing in that sort of
forum. Thanks so much for all your kind and generous support of this
story, and me personally. I am very indebted to each of you.
I anxiously await your comments as always! ~ Andy
andyoutwest@live.com http://weststories.altervista.org