Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people, places or events is unintentional.
Content warning: This story explores themes of internalised homophobia and mortality.
Authors note: Nightmares Before Chris' Mass is a sequel to last years' Nightmares on Fig Leaf Street and continues, in true horror sequel fashion, with a whole new cast, returning character and some gratuitous cameos. Enjoy.
Nightmares Before Chris' Mass Chapter I
SATURDAY
MADE GROTESQUE BY TERROR
In the dimly lit room, with hues of red and orange dancing around its edges that flickered like candlelight, Chris knelt in a spotlight of bright white light. He was dressed in a sky blue speedo, but kneeling and bending over was stretching the fabric to the max. Chris was worried that at any moment, the swimming trunks would burst and his bare ass would be exposed to everyone.
Chris hated the spotlight.
The spotlight was too bright to see beyond the circle and the dim, red tinted light was too gloomy to illuminate anything beyond vague shapes. Chris could only see one thing beyond the circle of light; a red door the colour of old blood, with olive green panels that gave it the effect of being striped. However, Chris wasn't alone in the circle. There were three other young men with him and they were naked.
Chris was eighteen, but he guessed the other three were all a few years older. He had seen these three before – in his dreams. There was a time when Chris hadn't known when he was dreaming, so the climax of a scenario brought an end to his dread yet sustained it with the promise of another.
Over time, Chris had become accustomed to the dreaming; to the nightmares and to the dread. With that, Chris was able to know he was dreaming, which should have been reassuring. To know he was dreaming meant he didn't need to be scared of exposure or being outed or any of those other things...
Yet, Chris was not reassured.
Because knowing he was dreaming meant Chris knew something else – he was trapped.
Chris had been trapped in his dreams by a dead man who believed in magic. Twenty years ago, Fredrick Summer had been a high school football coach who had abused students and evaded justice, but was subsequently killed. No, not killed... murdered. Fredrick Summer had been murdered by five students who had been his victims; those students went on to have sons and two months ago those sons had been haunted and hunted in their dreams by Mr Summer.
Fredrick Summer had cursed the boys who killed him, but then he had been trapped in an unmarked grave. It was only when his grave was disturbed that Mr Summer had unlashed nightmares on the sons of the boys who murdered him. Chris was one of those sons.
Chris, Henry, Andrew, Leroy and Quinn.
The others had escaped, leaving Chris behind. They had escaped because they had faced their fears, something Chris still hadn't done and he feared it was too late. What if he faced his fear, admitted it, and he was still trapped?
The fact the others had escaped left something of a quandary. Who were the three young men with him now? They weren't simply characters populating the dream, they were real people... maybe. Unless it was another trick. Chris knew their names were Dante, Jack and Logan, but how and why were they here? Were they here? Were they real people, or another fabrication?
Chris was on his knees.
His speedo clad ass was so tight, the two globes were visibly divided by his crack.
The spotlight shone on Chris's white skin which was damp from swimming despite no water anywhere in this scenario. Inconsistences were just a part of the nightmares that Chris had come to accept.
Chris was kneeling in front of Dante who was perched on the edge of a bench with his legs stretched out in front of him. Kneeling on the bench to Dante's left was Jack. Jack was rubbing Dante's shoulder reassuringly, like a birthing partner. Kneeling on Dante's right (Chris' left) was Logan.
Chris leaned in and kissed the head of Dante's cock. Dante had brown eyes and bronzed skin. His hair was black with scribbles on his top lip and chin. Dante had the build of a football player. His physique was outstanding with black hair scattered across his pectorals and down to his abdomen; the bush above his cock was substantial. Dante's cock was big – at least seven inches.
It tasted sweet. Chris could still taste the jewel or precum on his lips as he put out his tongue to lick it and kiss the head some more.
Jack was tall but thin. His arms, legs and whole body were like that of a matchstick man, but he had some nice definition to his legs and Chris reckoned the young man was a fast runner. Jack's blonde hair was severely short and very fair, his eyebrows were blonde and delicate too. His hair matched his pale skin tone. Where Dante had handsome and rugged facial features, Jack had a cute face with soft features and intensely green eyes. Jack had only a small patch of hair above his cock which sprouted no more than six inches.
Logan looked like a swimmer, which was a physique that obviously appealed to Chris. Logan's ass wasn't wrapped in a speedo though. Logan had tanned skin, medium length hair and blue eyes. His chest and legs were shaved and his cock was six and a half inches.
Chris had wrapped his lips around Dante's cock, sucking the head into his mouth and slurping on the juices. It tasted pretty good. Chris's head bobbed up and down on the dick, swallowing more and more inches of the shaft which was soon slick.
There were no words.
The three young man were mute except for Dante who occasionally moaned with pleasure. Jack was still rubbing Dante's shoulder or running his hand up and down Dante's chest, which swept sweat across his abs. Logan was stroking Dante's thigh and caressing his calves.
Chris was finding it hard to suck because Dante's cock was so big. When Chris came up for air, it was fat and at least eight inches. As Chris watched it, the tumescence grew to nine inches and the girth expanded too. Chris stretched his mouth around the head but felt his lips pressed apart at the edges; when he reared back, Dante's cock plumped up to ten inches and the girth was now unmanageable. If Dante's cock had been in Chris's ass, it would have been like getting fisted.
Dante's scrotum distended too. His ball literally doubled in size; the sac was like a balloon inflating before Chris' eyes. They sagged between Dante's spread legs, but Logan groped them and patted them like a pet.
Chris gripped the cock and stroked it up and down as it grew to the size of a baseball bat. The eye in the centre of the cock blinked out tears of clear precum that lubricated the head and trickled down until it dribbled in an elastic stream that landed on the floor.
Dante's cock grew beyond the already impressive twelve inches (30cm) to nearly two feet (60cm).
Dante didn't appear to be in any discomfort as his cock continued to bloat and distend beyond anything normal. It was grotesque but magnificent and Chris had to shuffle back as the length continued to grow. Dante's scrotum was now so huge that it touched the floor, sitting between his legs like a space hopper or a hoppity hop.
Despite the nightmarish body horror of the modifications happening before his eyes, Chris was exuberant. Dante's cock was at least six feet (1.8m) long now and four foot four inches (1.3m) in circumference. Chris was drawn to the massive fucking head, licking the gooey slit that was big enough to fit his entire head. Chris licked all over the head of the cock, around the edge, and following the rim where it met the shaft.
Chris returned to the centre of the cock, gazing into the sticky slit which seemed to be calling to him. The diameter of the cock was seventeen inches, and as Chris knelt in front of the horribly distended cock, he placed his hands on either side. Chris' hands were shoulder width apart as he leaned in and pressed his head into the slit.
Chris took a deep breath as he was sucked inside the cock he had been sucking. Like a sounding rod, Chris was pressed deeper into the tract running up the centre of Dante's shaft. The already engorged penis stretched to accommodate Chris' swimmers build; his arms flattened against his sides and then the cock pointed up like a cannon Chris' entire body was lifted into the air as the cock pointed up at a forty five degree angle.
Chris's legs flailed as they protruded from the grotesquely engorged and embiggened cock.
Like a reverse cannon, Chris's entire body shot inside the shaft of the massive penis. Chris's speedo didn't meet the entry, falling to the dank floor with a splat. Pulled into the massive erection, Chris found himself spilling, tumbling and sinking deeper into the manhood. Eventually, Chris tumbled nakedly into a pool of hot semen.
On the outside Jack watched in horror as Chris was swallowed by the cock and Logan, who had been patting the cock and stroking the massive balls, stood up. Jack took a step back as Chris disappeared inside Dante's penis. Dante meanwhile sighed with something like relief.
Chris's head broke the surface and his hair and face were dripping with spunk. He was literally swimming in a vat of Dante's spunk. Chris could feel it all around his body with the consistency and temperature unlike any swimming pool he had ever swam in. The warmth of the spunk on his chest and around his genitals and his gently paddling legs was almost indescribable. The jizz jacuzzi of Dante's ball sac was hot and smelled; it was sticky and clung to every pore and every fibre of Chris' hair.
Then the enlargement process began to reverse. Chris looked up and he could see the elastic tube he had pressed through was closing with him inside. Aghast, Chris let put a panicked cry, but it was already too late. The walls of the scrotum pressed in and the semen level rose. At the last moment, Chris took a deep breath and was swallowed by the warm cum.
Dante felt the pressure of his cock subside, his balls reducing in size and his cock deflating back to the size of a baseball bat and then to his normal seven inches. His balls continued to churn, so Dante wanted nothing more than to jerk off and unload them.
Inside Dante's balls, Chris could see nothing and hear nothing. He could feel himself being squeezed.
He could feel himself being squeezed.
Chris tried to wake up.
But, he was trapped.
Chris was not only trapped in Dante's balls; he was trapped in his dreams.
In the nightmares.
Chris was trapped...
A CLASS OF HIS ONANISM
"Fuck me!" Logan complained.
There was no-one in the room so he was just registering a general complaint with the universe. Logan was doused in sweat when he awoke from his nightmare. Thankfully, they didn't happen very often. At least, they didn't use to.
Logan looked at the clock beside his bed. The time was 03:04 so he had to be up in three hours. Logan was working part time as a medical assistant at West Raven Hospital as he studied pre-med. During the holidays, like the impending Christmas break, Logan worked extra shifts, but most weeks he only worked one a week. Saturday day shifts were ok, but Logan liked the night shift. For one thing, it paid better and some of the interns or registrars who managed his rota would take pity on him and give him an extra half hour; sometimes he studied on his break and other times he fell asleep. His dreams were becoming a problem.
For one thing, they weren't just dreams. They were nightmares. He'd just woken from one about a giant cock that swallowed a guy. Logan was no medical expert yet but he was pretty sure that was neither normal nor possible. The nightmare was why he was sweating so bad he could almost swim out of the bed.
Logan yawned, grateful that he was till half asleep. He pulled off his damp t-shirt and tossed it out of bed. It landed on the floor with a splat, it was so saturated with sweat. Logan lay back in bed and started counting back from 100.
Logan closed his eyes.
"Mr Willis?"
Logan snapped to attention, disorientated by his sudden arrival in the small lecture theatre used for his Monday morning classes. His lecturer was a young Professor named Simon Yale.
"Perhaps you'd like to volunteer?" Prof. Yale suggested.
"Uh... yea? Sure," Logan replied.
"Really? Great, come on up here," Prof. Yale said.
Logan worked his way along the row of seats and then down the centre aisle of the lecture theatre until he reached the front of the room. The lecture theatre was full, but the faces of his peers were indistinct. They were just there.
Except for one.
One face was clear.
The face had a wide, hungry grin. The smile nearly split his face. He looked as if he was enjoying himself enormously. The man had dark features – his hair and eyes, but his presence itself felt shrouded and shadowy.
"Ok, Logan. Go ahead and take off your shirt," Prof. Yale prompted.
"My what?" Logan replied with surprise.
"We were just talking about this, Logan. You just volunteered," the man lectured. "Come on, you can't back out now."
Logan wasn't sure that was how volunteering worked.
"You said you weren't sure this was the right course for you. If nothing else, it will help with your engagement," the professor argued.
Prof. Yale tapped into Logan's very real fears. Logan wasn't sure medicine was right for him, but he couldn't back out. He couldn't back out of pre-med any more than he could back out of volunteering; which is to say, he could, but he couldn't.
"Come on Logan," the professor encouraged with enthusiasm. "This is a lesson in anatomy so we need to see your body."
"Right, ok," Logan replied sheepishly.
Logan pulled his t-shirt over his head and looked around for somewhere to put it. Prof. Yale took it from him and tossed it towards the lectern. Logan had been a swimmer all though high school, and still swam competitively for some extra money. Thus, Logan wasn't self-conscious about his appearance but there was a difference between being poolside in nothing but Speedos and standing in the college lecture theatre with his top off. There were some appreciative noises from around the hall, but when Logan looked up he still couldn't discern any facial details from his peers – except for the sinister man in the front row.
"As we can see, Logan has a very nice physique," Prof. Yale complimented. "Can you flex your arms like this?"
The man demonstrated curling his biceps with his elbows pointed out and his fists pointed towards his shoulders. When Logan followed the direction, his biceps popped, but it also exposed his armpits.
"Do you shave, Logan? Or do you have delayed puberty?" Prof. Yale asked.
There was giggling from around the lecture theatre and Logan blushed. Why was the question so demeaning?
"I shave because I'm a swimmer," Logan replied.
"Well, it helps to show off your pectoral muscles very nicely," the Professor complimented. "And your abdominal muscles are exquisite."
"Thanks," Logan replied.
Logan liked the compliment because he was a little vain and had a thing for older guys.
The Professor spent five minutes talking about Logan's chest and abdomen, then his biceps and triceps. Prof. Yale even gave Logan's pecs a squeeze, which felt gratuitous, and his nipples a pinch, which felt unnecessary. Logan was instructed to turn around and his bare back was examined in great detail too. The rhomboid minor, trapezius and latissimus dorsi were all indicated; the professor had a habit of gently stroking each indicated muscle, which tickled and excited Logan.
"And of course there is the erector spinae," Prof. Yale said with an unprofessional snigger.
The class laughed and Logan couldn't help but think it was immature to laugh at the word erector... ok, it was a bit funny. Logan was asked to turn to face the class again, and he was allowed to put his arms back into a relaxed position.
"Ok, now take off your shorts, please," Prof. Yale asked.
"My shorts?" Logan repeated.
"We're studying anatomy," the man replied as if Logan was stupid. "We need to be able to see your thighs."
In the front row the sinister man seemed to laugh. The absurdity was almost distracting. Logan couldn't get a grip on the farcical nature of what this lesson was all about. Wasn't he supposed to be at work today, not class? Wasn't it Saturday? Wasn't he in bed just a few minutes ago?
Logan dutifully unbuttoned his shorts and tugged down the zip. He felt self-conscious, but it also felt as if the feeling was not entirely his own. It was as if there was a spotlight on him to overemphasise the attention. Logan had been in swimwear all though high school, why would it bother him in the lecture hall?
Logan pushed his shorts down to his feet. As he stepped out of them, his sneakers came off too. Logan bent over to pick them all up, but Professor Yale scooped the clothes from Logan's hands and stashed them behind the lectern.
It was as Logan had bent over that he became aware of the cool breath of air conditioning on his buttocks. Logan looked over his shoulders and discovered he wasn't wearing boxers or briefs or even speedo... he was wearing a jock strap.
The professor returned to gesture to his model's anatomy.
"We can return to this in a moment," Prof. Yale declared as he gestured to Logan's covered genitals. "But, as you can all see, Logan's choice of underwear offers scrotal support and some of you may be able to see the outline of his glans which would suggest he is circumcised."
Logan couldn't believe the lecturer was telling all his classmates that his dick was cut. It was humiliating. The sinister man chuckled at Logan's discomfort; it was a laugh that was different to the amusement at Logan's embarrassment that came from the faceless crowd.
"Now, let's talk about Logan's thighs," Prof. Yale moved on.
The man talked about Logan's quadriceps and hamstrings. Professor Yale also asked Logan to spread his legs while he spoke in great detail about his adductors.
"The fact the legs are completely hairless helps to emphasise these muscles," the Professor said as he pointed to Logan's inner thighs.
The lecturers hands massaged the inside of Logan's thighs, coming dangerously close to Logan's genitals.
The man moved on to talk about Logan's lower legs – the tibia and fibula – and then his feet.
"Now, please turn around," Prof. Yale said.
Logan hesitated but did not... could not... refuse.
Displaying his posterior was met with a gasp. His bare back was no surprise, nor was his hamstrings or calves. The surprise was his bare ass.
Most of his bare ass, anyway.
The tanned white skin of Logan's ass cheeks were suspended between the straps of the jock. Logan found the rear of his legs being described in the same detail as the front. The professor merely pointed, but Logan could have sworn he felt a hand cars sing his smooth calves. Logan even looked back to check there was no audience participation; there was not, but the sinister man was staring intently with eyes that flashed up and down Logan's legs in tun to the feathery caress.
"Logan's buttocks are especially interesting," Prof. Yates commented. "The gluteus maximus is a large muscle ideal for penetration... with needles for deep intramuscular injection."
There was a ripple of giggles that felt demeaning.
"We can see that Logan's buttocks are also completely smooth," the lecturer continued. "Logan, can you part your cheeks so we can see between them."
Logan could not believe he was about to expose his anus to his classmates. If being shirtless and then standing in just his jock was bad, this was even worse. Logan gripped his buttocks and parted them.
"Stick a cock in it," a disembodied voice said.
It seemed to emanate from outside... (outside the dream)... but Logan knew the voice wasn't real.
"Bend all the way over, Logan. Bend over so your classmates can see your anus," Prof. Yale instructed.
Logan complied, parting his legs and bending over and pulling his cheeks apart even more. Logan's cheeks (on his face) burned with humiliation.
"His anus is completely hairless, which is unusual in adult males so we can assume your classmate shaves here too," Prof. Yale declared. "This pink, puckered hole is the anal sphincter."
Logan felt the lecturer press a finger into his hole. He let out a yelp, which amused the whole class, but the sinister man in particular enjoyed the reaction.
"A sphincter is a muscular ring that opens and closes a passage within the body," the professor continued to lecture. "There are many internal sphincters, but the anal sphincter permit the expulsion of excrement or the insertion of scopes such as flexible sigmoidoscopies or colonoscopies, fingers to examine the prostate, or sex toys for pleasure."
Was his lecturer really going to discuss anal pleasure while fingering a student in front of all his classmates?
"As you can see, my finger is now completely inside this nineteen year old boy's ass. I can now feel Logan's prostate. It feels smooth and soft and it is a normal size," Prof. Yale told everyone. "Logan, have you ever inserted anything into your anus for sexual pleasure?"
"Yes," Logan admitted.
The class reacted with scandalised "ohhh's" and "ahhh's."
Logan felt the finger pull out.
"Turn and face everyone again, please," the professor prompted.
Face.
Everyone.
A lecture theatre packed with students.
All his peers.
"Now, take off the jock," Prof. Yale encouraged. "Come on. We're studying anatomy. We need to see you naked."
Logan hesitated. He didn't want to be seen naked by everyone in the lecture theatre.
"Like this," Prof. Yale said.
Suddenly the man was behind Logan and with one tug the jock was around Logan's ankles. The class erupted in laughter and the sinister man looked jubilant. There was whistling and cat calling.
There was flashes of cameras.
It was strange that faces were indistinct, but Logan had no difficulty seeing the camera phones that were recording his humiliation.
It was the intense attention of the eyes that bore into Logan and made him feel the most humiliated. The faces were still indistinguishable; like the room was populated with NPC's or CGI background characters.
"Great. Now we can see Logan's entirely naked body," the professor said happily.
Logan's jock had vanished from around his ankles. He assumed they were in the same plie as everything else. But, Logan was naked. Bare naked.
Totally naked. Exposed.
Exhibited.
"As you can all see, your classmate has no clothes on. He is totally naked in front of all of you," Prof. Yale detailed, much to Logan's mortification. "His feet are bare, he's as hairless as a preteen boy, his nipples are nipples are plump and of course, we can see his exposed genitals."
Logan couldn't believe this was happening. How would he ever face his classmates after this?
"Can everyone see his genitals ok?" the professor asked needlessly.
Of course they could all see him!
"Good. As you can all see, this is Logan's pubic area," the man indicated the short hair above Logan's dick. "The hair has been trimmed I assume?"
"Yes," Logan replied sheepishly.
The sinister man chuckled nastily. Yet Logan could tell the man was interested, even invested in his humiliation and in the sexual display. It wasn't Logan's nakedness he was laughing at, but Logan's predicament.
"Suspended underneath, Logan has large testicles. The sac helps to protect the male sexual structures," the lecturer continued clinically. "The scrotum contains the external spermic fascia, the testicles, the epididymis and the spermic cord."
The attention of the class was rapt but Logan doubted it was because they were such keen learners.
"Now, we move onto the penis. As we can see it is circumcised, so the glans, or head, of the penis is exposed," Prof. Yale talked as if it were perfectly normal to discuss a student's penis in class. "On the underside of the penis, you can see the post-surgical artifact of Logan's frenulum."
Fucking hell, this was excruciatingly embarrassing.
Prof. Yale then gripped Logan's dick and stroked it.
Logan was stunned as he popped a boner in front of his classmates.
"Great. Logan has responded normally to sexual stimulation," Prof. Yale beamed. "We can see how the shaft has expanded and the glans has bloated as his penis filled with blood."
The class could see a six and a half inch cock – that's what they could see.
"You're classmate has a perfectly average penis," the man told the lecture hall. "It's not small, but it is certainly not a big erection."
There was a ripple of amusement like canned laughter as Prof. Yale told everyone Logan was average. Average cock humiliation, was that even a thing?
"We even have some pre-seminal fluid," the lecturer told everyone.
He dipped his finger in the slit of Logan's cock and peeled his finger back with a sticky strand of precum attached to it.
"Lovely," the lecturer said. "No, if you could just bring yourself to orgasm?"
Logan looked at the lecturer with trepidation and disbelief.
"You want me to jerk off in front of the whole class?" Logan asked.
"I want you to masturbate..." the professor corrected pompously. "So the class has a demonstration of ejaculation."
Sounded like jerking off to Logan.
Logan was horny though. He gripped his cock and started to stroke it. The attention of his classmates was unrelenting. The sinister man too, was enthralled by Logan's self-pleasure. Jerking himself, Logan closed his eyes and concentrated on the head and then the shaft; offering short and long strokes.
"Feed me, Logan," the sinister man said suddenly.
It was the same voice that had said "stick a cock in it," but Logan still hadn't seen the man's mouth move.
Logan felt like the man was deliberately unsettling. His appearance was a façade. It was a game. The sinister man didn't need to be disquieting, he chose to speak without moving his mouth and he chose to have that smile like a grimace that split his face.
"Feed me, Logan," the man repeated.
Logan jerked harder and faster until he felt his balls churning and then followed the blissful release of cum. Logan's ejaculate blasted across the stage, landing half way between him and the front row. Logan's hand was sticky with cum and he was embarrassed by the mess.
Logan was also humiliated that he had jerked off in front of all his classmates. How had this happened?
"Very good, Logan," the professor said.
"Can I get dressed now?" Logan asked timidly.
"I suppose you should. Class, do you all want to thank Logan for his demonstration?" the professor asked.
There was a round of applause that succeeded in sounding condescending. Logan rushed to get dressed, hiding behind the lectern for modesty, which seemed redundant now that he had masturbated and cum in front of everyone, some of whom had recorded the whole display.
"Are you going to get it up now?" the sinister man asked.
Logan turned to see the man standing very close to him. The man's very presence was disconcerting.
"What?" Logan asked.
"Are you going to get up now?"
The voice wasn't the man's this time and it came from far away.
"Logan!"
Logan woke up to find his dad standing over him.
"I'm not your alarm clock, son," his dad admonished him. "Get up, you don't want to be late for work, do you?"
His dad left the room and Logan didn't move for a moment. No... no... he wouldn't want to be late... would he? The dream had tapped into something. It had danced around the edge of a secret, a fear, Logan had been carrying with him.
Logan groaned and got out of bed. He had enough time to shower and eat before his shift, but he was still tired. The dream lingered, stalking or hunting him like a stain. Like the cum stains in his shorts from the wet dream he'd just had.
BED BATH AND BEYOND
It was half an hour into his shift and Logan was inspecting a young man's arm for a vein to draw blood. The man was thin and pale, he was tachypnoeic, hypotensive and pyrexial. Logan thought the young man looked vaguely familiar.
Logan tried to recall the patient history: Jack Miller, 27 years old, primary non-Hodgkin lymphoma, secondary leukaemia and recurrent sepsis. Logan had drawn blood on him when he was admitted at the start of the week: complete blood count, basic metabolic panel, crossmatch...
The young man made Logan feel sad. Jack was the first patient that Logan had met who he knew was going to die. Logan was only pre-med, but the interns, residents and attending all told him that sometimes "you just know."
"What's the point?" asked a sad voice from the other side of the bed.
Jeremy was Jack's partner and he wore an anguished expression as Logan searched for a vein.
"Bloodwork," Logan shrugged.
"I know what you're doing," Jeremy said solemnly. "I asked, what's the point?"
Logan looked at Jeremy and felt dread. It was a different kind of dread to what he'd felt in his nightmares. This dread writhed around in Logan's guts because he didn't know what to say.
"I don't really know," Logan admitted.
Jeremy nodded and then leaned forward pointed to a spot in Jack's upper right arm.
"The others find that one pretty good," Jeremy offered helpfully.
"The basilic vein," Logan replied.
The other best options for phlebotomy in the antecubital fossa were the cephalic or median cubital vein, before moving on to the dorsal hand. Logan got the vein first time and drew the blood.
"Thanks," Logan mumbled.
"He used to look like you," Jeremy said.
Logan must have looked startled.
"I don't mean a lot like you," Jeremy chuckled. "But when he was your age... eighteen or nineteen? He was fit and healthy."
Jeremy smiled fondly.
"But that was a long time ago," he added.
"I'm sorry," Logan replied.
"Logan? Do us a favour and take care of this insurance form once you're done there?" a rather harried voice said from the doorway. "Morning, Jeremy. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," Jeremy felt as obliged to say as the resident did in asking.
"We'll take a look at Jack's bloodwork and come up with a plan," the doctor promised.
"Thanks," Jeremy replied and he leaned forward to hold Jack's hand.
"I'll just send these off," Logan said after stepping out of the room. "What is the plan?"
The resident looked at Logan, taking time he didn't really have, before patting his shoulder.
"Sometimes you just know," he replied.
Jack was floating.
Or at sea, with the boat rocking gently.
It was like being in a hot tub.
Did he have a temperature again?
"How about this one?" the shop assistant asked.
Shop assistant?
Jack looked around, feeling slightly confused, but recognised the store after a few seconds. It was Cascade Bathtubs & Showers; Jack had visited the store three years ago.
"Or this one? It's big enough for two, if you want to share the bath with your wife..." the shop assistant said with a wink.
"I'm gay," Jack replied.
"...or husband," the assistant corrected seamlessly.
Jack laughed, and it felt nice to laugh. Why?
Why was he here?
Where was Jeremy?
The ground had stopped rocking like a boat. Jack now stood steady on solid ground. He looked at the tub indicated by the shop assistant whose nametag read ANDY. Jack had known a boy called Andy in high school.
Andy's was the first boy's penis Jack ever saw. They were in 9TH grade, not long before the end of the school year. Andy had picked a fight with Jace, a Junior, and punched him in the balls. In retaliation, Jace waited until the halls were packed as students moved between classes; then he sneaked up on Andy, pulled his t-shirt up and over his head so Andy's face was covered but his chest was exposed. While Andy's head and arms were tangled in the t-shirt, Jack had a good look at his chest and abdomen and he wasn't the only one checking Andy out. Andy was in the football team so he was ripped! Then, Jace pulled Andy's shorts down to his ankles and everyone in the hallway saw his dick. Jack thought about that day often for years afterwards. It probably wasn't the first time he'd seen a boy's dick. However, Jack knew it was a dangerous thing to look at boy dicks in the locker room, so he could only sneak peeks. If you got caught looking a guys junk and branded a faggot, your life would be a misery. Two years later, Jack came out in homeroom and everyone looked at him for about five seconds and then said "ok," and that was it. So, maybe he wasted years not looking at boy dick in the locker room. Anyway, Jack was afforded the opportunity to have his first look at a boy dick (terms and conditions apply, may not be actual first dick) because everyone was looking. Everyone was laughing at Andy too. Andy couldn't decide what to do first – cover his exposed penis or uncover his face so he could see what he was doing. He seemed to try to cover up, bend down to pull his shorts up and uncover his face all at once. Which was probably why one good shove by Jace at an opportune moment, sent Andy flat on his back. Thus, Jack had his first look at a boy's taint. This really was the first time he'd seen such a thing and it was fucking beautiful. Andy's balls, and his penis and his taint lived in Jack's memory forever.
It wasn't the same Andy.
Jack's brain had taken a trip down memory lane. It was like...
His life was flashing before his eyes.
The bath store wasn't memory lane though. This was new. It was happening now. Sort of. It felt strange. Jack knew the experience was otherworldly, but couldn't pinpoint why.
"There's this tub too. It's big enough for three," Andy suggested.
"Three?" Jack looked at the young man.
How old was Andy? Twenty-one or twenty-two. At least half a decade younger than Jack anyway. Andy was cute... not high school penis Andy but Cascade Bathtubs & Showers. High school Andy had been cute too though. His penis had been only two and a half inches but he had big balls. Andy in high school had been the tallest kid in 9TH grade. Regardless, Cascade Andy was shorter than Jack but with a muscular chest and narrow waist; his butt was a big bubble and his legs were strong. Andy's body seemed to go out then in then back out again.
"Yea, three. You, your husband... and a friend?" Andy suggested flirtatiously.
Jack laughed appreciatively at the gesture.
"Why don't you try it out?" Andy encouraged.
Jack felt himself drawn to the bathtub. He couldn't explain why he wanted to climb inside. Andy was like a siren, drawing him towards the water.
Except there was no water in the bath.
Jack was about to step into the bath when he was admonished by Andy.
"You can't get in with your shoes on," he said as if it were obvious.
The tone of Andy's voice had slipped. As if words were being put in his mouth.
The only thing that was obvious was that you wouldn't get into a bath at home with shoes on, but in the store? Jack took his shoes off anyway and stood in socked feet. About to step into the bath, he was admonished again.
"It's a bath, Jack," Andy said. "A bath. You need to take your clothes off."
The same tone again. Like Andy was a character reading a script. It was a sinister transition.
Had Jack even told the shop assistant his name? Jack couldn't remember the start of this scenario. It was like he had been dropped into the conversation with: "How about this one?"
Jack pulled off his socks and tugged off his jeans, sitting on the edge of the bath because his balance wasn't what it used to be.
But why was that?
Jack could almost feel the bathwater on his skin. Behind him, the water lapped against the edge of the bath, like a tide at the seaside. Jack always liked the sea. Jack liked baths too.
Jack removed his jacket and pulled his shirt and t-shirt over his head. The moment they passed his face was like blinking. A long drowsy blink. Topless and wearing only his underwear, Jack swung around and slipped into the bath that was suddenly full to the brim with hot water and bubbles. It was lovely. Andy sat on the edge of the bath beside Jack and smiled kindly.
Around them, the store was moderately busy. People passed by and looked at the mad man in the bath in the middle of the store. But, then they moved on to look at a Hydro-Stream water-saving shower head that cost just $25.25.
Or maybe the rubber duck that was the size of an SUV.
That was weird.
"Do you want me to do you?" Andy asked.
Jack looked at the young man, who smiled and the smile spread until it was grotesque. But then... it pulled back in. As if there was a force acting against it. Andy's face returned from macabre to sweet.
"Excuse me?" Jack replied.
"You're back, I mean. Do your back?" Andy offered.
The young man gestured emphatically with an Eco-Sponge organic loofah that only cost $6.93.
Jack leaned forward and allowed his back to be scrubbed. It felt quite nice yielding this activity of daily living to someone else. Jeremy used to do this for him when they were at home. Usually, they used the shower and they would shower together. Jack used a shower stool and Jeremy would work around him. Jeremy's penis would brush against him, so sometimes Jack would giggle childishly. They both giggled. Jeremy would scrub Jack's back, but Jack washed his front and the bits down below. Until the day he was too tired to do it himself. Jack caught Jeremy looking up into the shower sometimes; washing away tears in his eyes that he hoped Jack hadn't noticed. Jack pretended not to.
Now, someone else was washing Jack.
"You still have your underwear on," Andy commented. "Why don't you stand up and we can wash the important bits?"
Jack stood up. His sodden underwear clinging to his skin as he exposed himself to the whole store. His package wasn't very big, but it wasn't tiny. His ass looked good in the water-gripped underpants.
There was a shower mat in the bottom of the bath; the Aqua-Vibe non-slip shower mat was a bargain at $9.70 and was machine washable.
Andy pulled Jack's underwear down. Jack's bare ass felt warm and slippery as the wet fabric moved against it; as his underpants slipped down, Jack's penis was released and jiggled for a few seconds. It was three inches long, but his foreskin accounted for nearly an inch. The first time Jeremy saw Jack naked he'd said he'd never had sex with a guy who was uncut before. Jeremy liked playing with Jack's foreskin and he had fond memories of Jeremy putting a finger or his tongue into it like it was a sleeve.
So many memories were caught up in Jack's mind.
Memories.
Memories, and whatever this was.
The echo of a memory or something adapted from his memory. The shop assistant wasn't the same and the naked in the high street store wasn't the same, but the reminiscences felt familiar and comforting. Jack felt Andy washing his dick for him.
Jack looked down and felt sad about it.
Andy shouldn't have to do that for him, but he felt sad for himself too. Jack shouldn't need someone to wash his penis. How had it come to this?
"Oh god..." Jack thought.
He didn't want to think about how it had come to this... and what it meant...
"It's big enough for two," Andy said softly.
"My penis?" Jack asked.
Andy laughed.
"I was talking about the bath," Andy replied. "Big enough for two or three, remember?"
Jack did remember.
There was no real transition point between Andy reminding Jack and the store assistant slipping into the bath with him, also naked. When had Andy taken off his clothes? Jack was lying in the bath again too. He didn't remember when he had stopped standing up, but he did forget things sometimes now.
Jack felt a foot massaging his balls and cock.
Jack looked at Andy and felt gratitude for the attention, flattered by the interest, excited by the foot wank. As he got harder, Jack became self-conscious. However, even though they were still sitting in the bath, in the middle of the store, the people around them passed them by. Jack and Andy's topless bodies appeared from the surface of the bath, but no-one seemed to think this was even worthy of a glace. Jack always looked at topless guys. The enormous rubber duck turned its head to look at them.
That was very weird.
Jack leaned forward so Andy threw his leg over Jack's thigh. The two men sat facing each other in the bath, thighs touching and feet almost at the other's hips. Jack reached into the water and grasped Andy's cock.
Andy reached forward.
Andy grasped Jack's cock. The movement of time and events were starting to feel disjointed.
Jack felt hard and it was nice to feel hard. It was nice to grip Andy's cock and feel how slippery it was in the water.
Andy pulled Jack's foreskin back and forth. It blinked over his head, the rim around the glans enjoying being rinsed in the submergence of water. Jack meanwhile...
Jack stroked Andy.
Andy had a nice chest and a cute face.
Andy's cock was six inches.
Jack felt himself getting closer to orgasm. It had been a while since he came. It had been a while since Jack had felt aroused at all. Andy jerking him off felt lovely and the only thing that would have made it better is if it was Jeremy stroking him.
The love of... his life.
Jack came in the water, the torrent of spunk mixed with the clear water. The orgasm was more than just a spurt too, it shot long and hard enough to break the surface like a little fountain under water. Then Andy came and a second fountain erupted. The water level in the bath rose. The water over flowed onto the floor and the other customers in the store fled, to avoid getting their feet wet. Also because stepping in gallons of cum was not for everyone.
Jack watched as his spunk mixed with Andy's and the pool spilling all over the floor reached the SUV sized duck. The duck floated, quaked and then swam to the front of the store. Someone opened the door for it and it quacked again as if saying "thank you," but that would have been very odd.
Eventually, the water level in the bath fell. Except, as the water drained, the surface remained untouched. The water level drained up. So Jacks ass was not submerged, but his chest was. When the bath eventually drained, the surface broke and Jack was left slippery and wet in the bath with Andy. Andy looked good covered in goo. They both looked like the victims of extreme bukkake. Jack could feel the cum all over his skin, even in the crack of his ass. Andy's body and face were doused in the spermy goodness... was it goodness... was it goodness that had made this scenario happen?
Jack thought of Andy's sinister smile, like he was a man possessed. And then unpossessed. Was that even a word?
At least the store had emptied out to preserve their dignity. Except for one man, darkly dressed like a Mormon. Fuck, Jack needed that kind of nonsense in his life like he needed terminal cancer.
Jack and Andy were left exposed and naked in the middle of the store. Their bodies remained wet from water and spunk, but the bath was finally drained. Jack felt drained too.
Jack leaned back in the bath and closed his eyes.
"So, do you want to take it or can I show you something else?" Andy asked.
"I'm tired," Jack replied.
"You should go to sleep then," Andy said softly.
"The trouble is... the trouble is..." Jack replied.
"You can't sleep?" Andy asked concernedly.
"I... I can't wake up," Jack replied.
Jack knew he wasn't awake, even if he didn't know he was dreaming. He knew he'd just had a bed bath. He knew he was sick. He was in hospital. If he could wake up, he could say what he had to say. His greatest fear was that he wouldn't get a chance to tell Jeremy.
To tell Jeremy that he...
"I can't wake up," Jack repeated in a murmured.
END OF CHAPTER I
TO BE CONTINUED...
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My stories so far:
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#jforrester
Complete series: School Exhibitionism, The Symposium, The Embarrassment of Riches, Do As You're Told, A Series of Embarrassing Events, and Noah the Embarrassed Nudist.
Also: Anthology, and The SEX Men.
Short stories: Aiden's Accidental Autoerotic Assignment, Jogging Joe's Jaunty Journey and Peter's Past Posing Pictures.