Original Fiction: Broken [13/14]
Title: Original Fiction: Broken [13/14]
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Warning: Mention of bloodplay and D/S.
POV: 1st, Nate
Summary: Chance, 18 years old and the main character, has multiple mental disorders, all of which are either undiagnosed or untreated, and lives with his best friend, Nate. Nate, 17, is mostly sane and logical, but tends to be oblivious to the hell going on around him. Megan, Nate's troubled 16 year old girlfriend, has problems with her mother because of her issues with men and dated Chance a few years prior. This is their story.
Word Count: 579 [this part]; 8,753 [total]
Author Notes: Based on semi-realistic events that happened to either myself or my friends.
Ch. 1 : Ch. 2 : Ch. 3 : Ch. 4 : Ch. 5 : Ch. 6 : Ch. 7
Ch. 8 : Ch. 9 : Ch. 10 : Ch. 11 : Ch. 12 : Ch. 14
I was kicking myself when Chance didn't come back. I knew what he was doing. I knew what Megan was doing. I knew what THEY were doing.
But I couldn't back out now. I had allowed it. As we sat on the couch earlier we talked. She had told me about the drunken kiss. I told her about him acting strange. Somehow the talk ended up about sex.
Her. With him.
She claimed to know that he wanted her. That she knew he had been harboring feelings for her for a long time. She told me that if he didn't get what he didn't realize he wanted, he would take it. Again, without realizing he was taking it.
I didn't like it, and as I sat there, actively KNOWING it was happening, I felt cold and alone.
Deserted. Betrayed. Cheated. Fooled.
I sat there for what I thought was enough time for them to finish, dress, and Megan to leave. I then crushed my cigarette and slowly walked back.
When I came in the door, Chance was sitting on his bed in the living room cross-legged in only his boxers, his head in his hand. He looked up at me briefly as I entered, then quickly returned his face to the safety of his hand.
"You know, don't you?"
I nodded before I remembered he wasn't looking at me. "Yeah."
"You knew... and you still let her... let me... US..."
He sniffled and looked back up at me. It was then that I realized he was crying. About what, I wasn't sure yet.
"How could you let me? How?"
I shook my head. Personally, I wasn't too sure about the answer to that question myself. "She asked me. She never questioned me when I kissed Nikki and Jesus. I guess it was just... me returning the favor."
He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and I realized he was hiding his left hand.
"Chance... What did you do to yourself?"
He smiled weakly and removed his hand. "I didn't do it this time."
His hand was covered in blood, but that wasn't the problem. His right hip was where the blood had come from, where an engraving into his skin was just beginning to scab over.
Mine.
"Megan?"
He nodded and his smile turned wistful. It looked strange on him.
"She... she wanted to own me. She wanted... to be my master. And I let her."
Bewildered, I stumbled over to the couch and sat down. My Megan... my sweet, innocent little Megan... dominant? It couldn't be. It was impossible. But the bright red "MINE" carved into Chance's skin said otherwise.
She had never shown any interest in being dominant with me. She was perfectly content with me being the scary rapist, and her the innocent school girl. Perfectly content with me tying her up and making her scream in defiance. She loved it every time I took her like a virgin.
But now that I thought about it, I remembered that gleam in her half-blind eyes as she rode me, pinning me down with whatever strength she could muster. The little half laugh she would let out every time I made a sound. How she was always the first to make a move.
Was it suppressed fantasies? Or was it just Chance? Did she feel that I wouldn't like being submissive? Or does Chance give her something I can't?
Was I losing her?
-----------------------------------------
A/N: More of my work here.
Author: meiloslyther
Rating: R
Warning: Mention of bloodplay and D/S.
POV: 1st, Nate
Summary: Chance, 18 years old and the main character, has multiple mental disorders, all of which are either undiagnosed or untreated, and lives with his best friend, Nate. Nate, 17, is mostly sane and logical, but tends to be oblivious to the hell going on around him. Megan, Nate's troubled 16 year old girlfriend, has problems with her mother because of her issues with men and dated Chance a few years prior. This is their story.
Word Count: 579 [this part]; 8,753 [total]
Author Notes: Based on semi-realistic events that happened to either myself or my friends.
Ch. 1 : Ch. 2 : Ch. 3 : Ch. 4 : Ch. 5 : Ch. 6 : Ch. 7
Ch. 8 : Ch. 9 : Ch. 10 : Ch. 11 : Ch. 12 : Ch. 14
I was kicking myself when Chance didn't come back. I knew what he was doing. I knew what Megan was doing. I knew what THEY were doing.
But I couldn't back out now. I had allowed it. As we sat on the couch earlier we talked. She had told me about the drunken kiss. I told her about him acting strange. Somehow the talk ended up about sex.
Her. With him.
She claimed to know that he wanted her. That she knew he had been harboring feelings for her for a long time. She told me that if he didn't get what he didn't realize he wanted, he would take it. Again, without realizing he was taking it.
I didn't like it, and as I sat there, actively KNOWING it was happening, I felt cold and alone.
Deserted. Betrayed. Cheated. Fooled.
I sat there for what I thought was enough time for them to finish, dress, and Megan to leave. I then crushed my cigarette and slowly walked back.
When I came in the door, Chance was sitting on his bed in the living room cross-legged in only his boxers, his head in his hand. He looked up at me briefly as I entered, then quickly returned his face to the safety of his hand.
"You know, don't you?"
I nodded before I remembered he wasn't looking at me. "Yeah."
"You knew... and you still let her... let me... US..."
He sniffled and looked back up at me. It was then that I realized he was crying. About what, I wasn't sure yet.
"How could you let me? How?"
I shook my head. Personally, I wasn't too sure about the answer to that question myself. "She asked me. She never questioned me when I kissed Nikki and Jesus. I guess it was just... me returning the favor."
He wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and I realized he was hiding his left hand.
"Chance... What did you do to yourself?"
He smiled weakly and removed his hand. "I didn't do it this time."
His hand was covered in blood, but that wasn't the problem. His right hip was where the blood had come from, where an engraving into his skin was just beginning to scab over.
Mine.
"Megan?"
He nodded and his smile turned wistful. It looked strange on him.
"She... she wanted to own me. She wanted... to be my master. And I let her."
Bewildered, I stumbled over to the couch and sat down. My Megan... my sweet, innocent little Megan... dominant? It couldn't be. It was impossible. But the bright red "MINE" carved into Chance's skin said otherwise.
She had never shown any interest in being dominant with me. She was perfectly content with me being the scary rapist, and her the innocent school girl. Perfectly content with me tying her up and making her scream in defiance. She loved it every time I took her like a virgin.
But now that I thought about it, I remembered that gleam in her half-blind eyes as she rode me, pinning me down with whatever strength she could muster. The little half laugh she would let out every time I made a sound. How she was always the first to make a move.
Was it suppressed fantasies? Or was it just Chance? Did she feel that I wouldn't like being submissive? Or does Chance give her something I can't?
Was I losing her?
-----------------------------------------
A/N: More of my work here.