CHAPTER 8: Dry bones make bad pickings
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts
To tell him how much he hurt you
And how he made you hurt another
Cause it makes me sad
---Poe "That Day"
"Ow...stop..."
Mama was wheezing in the background. Pops was upsetting her. But he didn't see that. All he could see was that I'd been fighting with my older sister. She shoved me. I knocked over one of mama's favorite vases. Or should I say, her only vase, a pretty piece of ceramic, with flowers painted on it.
Mama was sort of mad, but when Pops found out, he made a big deal about it. He always made big deals about any mistake I made. If my sister had broken it, he might've scolded her. But me...he was pounding me like I was a punching bag. I could feel bruises already rising on my back and my arms.
My mama was sitting on the couch. Pops drove me back against the wall. I had my arms crossed in front of me like a shield; through the space between Pop's arm and his body I could see mama slumped on the couch. Tears shone on her face, but she wouldn't speak out for me. She never did. Maybe she was afraid Pop's rage would transfer to her. I don't believe it would; he practically worshiped her, but she took no chances. I can't say I blamed her...but it made something in my heart twist...it hurt me almost as much as Pops...
Pops drew his fist back. I threw my arm up. His punch came down, striking my arm right on the elbow...my arm bent the way it wasn't supposed to. I screamed loud. Mama huddled down on the couch, her arms clasped on her head, her arms covering her ears.
"MAMA HELP ME!!" I begged her, but she just pressed her arms tighter. Willing my voice away. How could she do this to me...how could she just ignore me...her son for God's sake...
Another punch came down. It jarred my entire body, bent my ribs inwards until one cracked. The room vibrated from the force of my screams.
"SHUT UP!" Pops screamed. "YOU FUCKIN' BABY! SHUT UP!" He grabbed me by my t-shirt collar, yanking me close to him. I sobbed and leaned my head against his chest.
He yanked my head back up, my thick hair making a good handhold. "You should be ASHAMED of yourself," he sneered. "Listen to you. Carrying on like a baby! Like a little baby girl! You little bastard...you aren't my kid, no way, no way did an embarrassment like you come from me..."
His eyes bored into mine, and I stared back, my mouth dropped open. He couldn't mean it. "Pops...please..."
"SHUT UP!" His breath blasted my face. He threw me down and I howled again.
"You don't deserve a real name," he scoffed down at me. "You deserve a name that fits you. Baby, maybe. Whiner." He kicked me and I tried hard to bite back a scream, but I couldn't help it. It hurt so bad, so bad I thought I'd die, and my voice reflected that.
"Little bastard, you little craven...sniveler..." He smiled suddenly. "I like that one, huh...Sniveler. How 'bout I call you that from now on? Would you like it? You would, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, yes I would!" I sobbed. Anything to calm him down. Anything to get him away from me.
"Puh...knew you would." My mama made a small sound and he looked over at her. "Look what you did to her," he growled. He left me and cradled her in his arms. I saw her stiffen. Pops stroked her hair and mummered at her. Over her head, he glared at me.
'You did it', I wanted to scream at him. 'You HURT her. Not me.' But I was afraid to. I gazed at the back of my mama's head. She had thick reddish-brown hair. It fell a little past her shoulders.
At first glance, it looked like the head of a young woman. Her body did too, small hips and breasts. But a quick glance at her face showed she was aged. It was a false impression; she wasn't as old as she looked. But cancer will do that to you...
She whimpered and pressed her face into his chest. His arms tightened around her. I saw concern on his face. For a brief second, I felt some emotion flaring over the pain...jealously. Extreme jealousy, so intense I could almost see my skin turning green. I was so jealous of his love for her. Why couldn't I get a little piece of that love? Then he raised his eyes to mine again, and scowled.
"You still here, Sniveler? Get the fuck outta here."
Brightness hit my eyelids and I blinked. I opened them. My cruddy living room faded out and was replaced with my jail cell. It was strangely comforting. How I hated my dreams. They were either nightmares, or memories that I didn't want to remember.
Everybody's called me a coward. Pops, Julian. Julian especially. The Freedom Fighters all scoffed at me. It's true, I am a coward. But I can't help it. They don't know that Julian was a coward too. He can't face up. At least I can. I can face my past. I can forget, but I can't forgive. But he can't do either...
He was a big fool, if you ask me, in more ways than one. He thought he could rule the world. He thought he, one man (one very fat ugly man) could dominant an entire planet, but it was foolishness.
I'm stupid too, I suppose, because his dreams were mine. I wanted to rule too. I wanted the power, because I'm powerless...and I've always been. But it wasn't just the power for him...it was the hate...the pain...the fear. I would be content with someone calling me 'sir', but he wants them to hurt so bad that they won't go against him. He wants them down on their knees, humiliated.
Julian was a coward because he couldn't face his past. Not realistically. Oh no...he made up big fancy stories and taped them over the dirty stain that was his childhood. I guess he was worse off then I. Maybe. I had it bad. I don't know for sure. I'm younger than Julian by far, I wasn't around when he was a kid, but still, I know he was lying when he said his childhood was sparkling and clean and merry and all that shit.
I've got a sixth sense for detecting suffering. I can feel it, like a tremble in my mind, because I've been there. 'Been there, done that,', that's one of the 'cool' phrases now, isn't it? Well it holds true to me. When it comes to suffering, I've experienced my share.
"Look at them tits. You think they're fake, or they run in the family, eh?" Flying Frog held out his magazine towards me, but I ignored him.
Runs in the family, puh, that phrase certainly applies to mine. What runs in it, hmmm? Insanity perhaps? Delusionists? A love of alcohol? Pain...? Yes. The last certainly applies. I hated my father, but I must admit, it was his father that made him that way. Mean. Cruel. Disregarding his kids, just like his father before him. It's the gift that keeps giving, I suppose. If I ever had kids, I would've probably beaten them too...
I closed my eyes tight, feeling the pressure of my eyelids against my eyes. If I closed them tight enough, would my eyelids crush my eyes? No, of course not.
I'm thinking incoherently now. I'm sliding down, I can feel myself dropping into that pit of darkness. When one memory is stirred up, others usually follow. Instead of just living, just being, I start analyzing myself. Looking deep within. That's not a good thing. I know what's there, and it isn't good.
I'm a very hate filled being...honestly. People, they think I'm harmless, and they think I'm on the wrong side. Like I should be on the good side instead. But that's bull. I couldn't be good. I don't have any left.
My hatred didn't start with Robotnik, obviously. He just made me worse. It all started with my father...
Ah...my Pops. What can be said about him that hasn't already been said? Nothing. But my mind wouldn't let go. I had to relive his image, his actions.
Beau was my father's name, and unlike the French word, he wasn't handsome. He lived on some ranch or something when he was a kid, raising horses. He was still pretty well-built, though his muscles started turning soft when he was older.
Beau was a shitty father. I say 'was' because he's dead, good riddance. I don't say that lightly, either.
To my siblings and my two live-in cousins, Beau was kind. He joked with them. He wrestled with them. My older brother was muscular and into football, so maybe that's why. And Beau was never mean to females...so my sister and cousins got off easy.
But to me...he was anything but kind. I was small and scrawny, apathetic in school, not into sports... he hated me, and I him.
And to show his hatred for me, he put bruises on my body, and breaks in my bones, and cracks in my sanity...
It was a long time ago...I was around 12 years old. I got up early that morning. The floor was cold through my thin socks and I shivered, standing in my underwear. Saturday. Great. I didn't like Saturdays...but then again, I didn't like any day.
Devon peered in the doorway, and then sidled into the room. "Hey."
"Get out."
She looked hurt. "I'm just saying hi."
"Well, hi then."
Her eyes moved to my underwear, and she smiled.
I scowled.
"You need help gettin' dressed?" she asked, moving closer.
"NO!" I jumped backwards as her fingers touched the white cotton.
"AWWWWW...c'mon, Snivvy!!"
"Devon, knock it off." I was shivering hard now, goosebumps rising up on my bare arms. "Get out of here."
She snorted and moved closer. That's when I grabbed her by the wrists and tried to shove her away. She ended up tripping, falling to her knees, and I reached down to help her up...
That's when Pops walked in. And from his point of view, with her on her knees, and my hand reaching down towards her arm...it must've looked obscene to him.
"Devon. Out." He growled. Even though he never struck the girls, when he commanded, you obeyed. Devon rose to her feet and slunk from the room, though I suspected she hovered around my door to eavesdrop.
Pops reached behind him and shut the door. It clicked shut, and I felt my heart jump with that click. I backed away, feeling sweat beading up on my freezing skin.
"What were you doing to your cousin?" he demanded.
"Nothing," I squeaked. "I wasn't doing anything. I told her to leave so I could get dressed. But she wouldn't, so I pushed her, and she fell."
"You were trying to make her blow you, weren't you?"
At that time, I wasn't fully aware of all sex terms, so I just stared blankly at him.
"You were, weren't you? Little fucker, I'll teach you to force women..."
"I didn't do anything!" I whined.
"Making your cousin blow you, that's something all right. Something that needs punishment."
"What's blow?!" I asked in confusion, feeling nearly frantic. Oh God, I didn't need this today.
"It means you were trying to make her suck your dick!" he bellowed. "And don't tell me you weren't. Horny at your age, I know, but that doesn't call for that. You don't force women. They give it if they want. But you don't fucking force them."
"I wasn't forcing her to do anything!" I nearly screamed. His nostrils flared and he lunged at me. I scrambled over my bed, but there was nowhere to go. I pressed myself into the corner and slid down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chest for protection.
"Get up."
I remained on the floor.
"I said get up."
I started to whine, and then to cry, because I was afraid to obey him and afraid not to. He sneered upon seeing my tears.
"Get up and take your punishment like a man," he growled. "If you can think about fucking a girl, then you're a man. So get up."
I didn't want to be a man. I wanted him to go away. I wanted to be dead. I wanted anything but the pain he was going to dish out.
"Please," I said. "Please, I didn't do anything!"
"Get up."
I blinked. Wetness streamed down over my cheeks. My dad's face contorted hideously, and I tried to push myself through the wall. I wanted to disappear, to die right then. Oh God...when he made that face...he was angry, so angry.
I slowly pushed myself up to a standing position, my legs shaking badly. He just stood and looked steadily at me, his eyes blazing with intense rage. I sobbed helplessly and felt a warm trickle of liquid down my leg.
He kept looking at me.
I kept sobbing.
He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down. Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and shoved my face agaisnt his crotch. I struggled, but couldn't even budge.
"You like that?" He drew me away.
"No!"
He shoved my face to his crotch again. "Do you think Devon liked it?!"
"I didn't..."
He pulled my hair hard. "No," I said. "No, I'm sorry."
He shoved me away. "Now you know how it feels," he growled. "And if I ever EVER catch you doing anything like that again, I'll kill you." He glared at me one more time, and left.
Suffice to say...that experience screwed up my first time having sex. I was shocked on that day. The incident haunted me. Pops was obsessed with treating women good. I think his mother had taught him that. Maybe even beaten it into him. Pops might've just been scared of women.
So I started treating girls the way he taught me. I acted like they were china dolls. If I bumped into one too hard in the crowded school hallway, I would apologize profusely. It earned me some contemptful looks and 'damn, cool it, will you?'
Eventually, when I got older, I realized women weren't fragile. I stopped being so nice to them. Oh sure, I was nice if they deserved it, but I didn't fawn all over women that passed me by.
Still, that incident with Pops stayed with me, buried deep into my subconscious.
Hmmm...I remember the night I lost my virginity. I know amazing, I'm actually not a virgin. I was cute as a kid, I guess.
The girl was not exactly top-notch. She had curly black hair, cut short. From the back, she was sometimes mistaken as a boy. From the front however, she was definitely female. Her face was slender, with hard, clean cut features. Her eyes were narrow and dark, always glittering with light. She wasn't ugly. But she was somewhat of a slut.
We were in the classic sex place...her hover-car. We were on a hilltop (imagine that), looking down over the small city we lived in. It was the haven for us Overlanders.
"Pretty boy, pretty man...how would you like to soar to the stars tonight?" Her voice rasped at me.
I was tapping my fingers to a tune on the radio, and looking at the view of the city. "Hmmm?" I looked over at her.
"You silly little thing," she laughed, and put her hand to my face, curling her fingers around a lock of my hair.
"How about I put it more simply?" She reached her fingers up to her black zip-up vest and pulled the zipper down. I felt something within tighten at the sight of her bra. Black, the color she always wore. She threw the vest into the backseat.
"Go on," she urged. I nodded, feeling a bit awkward. She knew what she was doing...I didn't. My hands trembled as she leaned forward to kiss me. Her tongue danced in my mouth, and she snuggled into my chest. I reached around her, unclasping the bra.
She leaned forward, and it dropped into her lap. Her breasts were nice...maybe not as pretty as Devon's, but still pretty. Devon's breasts were tipped with pink, this girl had brown. But whatever color, they were still quite attractive, and quite thrilling. I ran my fingers along them; the feel of the smooth flesh was very arousing.
My heart was thudding in my chest as I pinched her nipples between my fingers, rolled them around. She sighed a little and leaned her head back against the window. I gathered up my courage and leaned forward, kissing the curve of her neck, then her collarbone, and finally, her breasts. My lips closed around the nipple and I felt something jolt down my spine...electricity, lightning...something tingling and wild.
She sighed more. Must be doing something right. I moved to the other breast, and she moaned a bit. The left one was more sensitive.
She grew restless finally, and gently pushed me off. She ran her hands up my thighs, and clinked her mauve fingernails against my zipper. Her eyes meant mine, still sparkling, even though there was barely any light. She smiled; must've seen the pleading look in my eyes.
She unzipped my pants, and pulled them off with a throaty laugh. "Does my pretty man have a pretty cock too?" she crooned. She ran her hands through my hair, dragged her nails gently down the sides of my face.
I just smiled at her, slightly dreamy. She was beautiful tonight. She was a goddess tonight.
She rubbed her palm over the bulge in my underwear. It felt so nice, I just leaned back and sighed, much like she had. Then she tugged at them. I let her take them off, feeling no shame.
I closed my eyes, feeling her fingers gently exploring. A sudden wetness made me jump and I looked down. I saw the top of her head buried in my lap, felt her tongue moving over me. "OohhhGod."
I whimpered a little. It was so incredible...so beyond anything I'd felt before. I had the urge to shove her head down further, but I resisted. She knew what she was doing.
She was making slurping noises, which just turned me on more. I laced my fingers through her hair.
A voice flashed through my head. Now...now you know how it feels... I ignored it at first, but it kept getting louder.
You don't force them...you don't force them...
I shook my head, trying to shake it out. The loud growl...I recognized it as Pops.
"I'm not forcing her," I mummered. My fingers tightened in her hair.
YOU DON'T FORCE THEM!
YOU LITTLE BASTARD...
KILL YOU IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN...
I felt frantic suddenly. A feeling was building up in my belly...an explosive feeling. I knew what that was...climax, orgasm, whatever you want to call it... But something else was there. Raw terror. I started gasping, staring down at her head. At my hands curled in the hair of her head. Oh God...was I hurting her...was I making her...
Something in my throat trembled, and I started sobbing suddenly. Every breath I took in came out wheezy and scared.
She looked up, a little frown on her face. It turned to a smile. "You really like this, don't you?"
Her head went back down. My body jerked and a weird cry came from my mouth. I was swept away by a fierce and wild sensation.
She raised her head up again.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"Of course, little man." She licked her lips. "You did dribble on my seats a little. Nothing to worry about. Not like it hasn't happened before." She closed her eye in a lewd wink.
She reached her hands down to her black skirt, and unzipped it. It fell onto the seat. Her panties, also black, followed quickly.
I gawked a little, which made her laugh heartily. Then she sprawled out, as if displaying herself for my wittle virgin eyes.
"Fuck me good and hard, my pretty man," she rasped. My, she always had a way with words.
I was already hard again, imagine that. STAY OUT OF MY HEAD, I ordered that nasty voice of my pops.
I wanted to poke around a little, explore her female bits first, but she looked impatient. I realized she'd gotten me off, but I hadn't done much for her yet.
I jabbed my finger at her first. She snarled at me. "Not your hands, my anemic little boy...your cock."
"All right, all right," I said, giving in happily.
I crawled over the seat until I was above her. I looked down at her face, feeling a bit awkward. She'd done it so many times...how could I satisfy her?
I missed at first. She laughed her head off. "Do you need me to guide you?" she asked.
"No," I snapped, feeling heat seep into my cheeks. I moved more carefully, and knew I was right this time. I felt myself ease into her. She blew her breath out, looking contended.
"I do love the feel of a cock in me."
I wasn't as nonchalant, gasping and panting. We weren't even moving yet, and I felt like I was going to explode. The feel of her was incredible.
"You gonna just lay there or what?" Her voice nipped at me.
"Ummm...all right," I mummered. I tried to think of what to do. You know what to do! A voice shouted at me. Thrust. In and out.
So I did. It felt awkward at first. But I got into it, and she started moving with me. It was going great until she started making noise.
"YESSSS!" She screeched. "HARDER! Come on, yes...that's it." Her hips moved against me. I was grinning like a fool, but it was pretty amazing. I heard somebody say one time that sex was overrated, but for me it wasn't. It felt pretty damn good.
Her cries were turning into shrieking, primal desperate screaming. I slowed down a little, my forehead wrinkling worriedly.
LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER, YOU BASTARD! YOU HURT HER!! I cringed suddenly, imagining Pop's fist.
"Noooo, please, not now."
She screamed louder, her hands clutching at me.
I felt my lungs panic, and refuse to take in air. Shit...I felt dizzy, and now I was hyperventilating... I felt the pleasure seep out. All I could hear was her screaming...and Pops hollering at me...and mama crying...
"NO!" I wailed. "STOP!"
I wasn't excited anymore. I was frightened and suddenly vulnerable.
"What the hell?" She wiggled out from under me. "You're limp as a worm, little boy. You didn't cum, I would've felt it."
I leaned my head back against the window, my eyes wide in panic. I couldn't breathe...
She slapped me hard. "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I whined. "I can't do it anymore."
"Goddamn, this is what I get for boning a virgin." She rubbed her hand over her forehead, looking pissed. "You can't get up again?"
I knew I couldn't, so I didn't lie. "No, I'm sorry."
She reached over me and opened the car door. I nearly fell out, and she helped me along, shoving me out.
"Wait!" I cried, but the car whirred to life and she left me alone on the hilltop.
I sat there, half-naked. My pants and skivvies were in her car...DAMN. My shirt wasn't long enough to cover anything.
The grass was itchy under my bare ass, not to mention cold with night dew.
"DAMN YOU!" I screamed suddenly. "DAMN YOU!!!!" I realized that I was screaming it at my father.
He was the reason I was here.
My second try, with a different girl, was better. No nasty voice of Pops whispering what a bad boy I was. I was satisfied with it, but the girl obviously wasn't; she dumped me soon after.
After that, I didn't think of sex so much. Or rather, didn't pursue it. Especially after I started working for Julian. We were always working on something, so I was busy, and even busier when he started on his plan to overthrow the king.
My thoughts wandered to a girl with hair of fire, eyes the color of ocean water, green and blue. Devon. Why did any thoughts of women always come back to her?
Because you're in love, a squeaky little voice said, but I ignored it.
I remember the last time I saw her...
She came to Robotropolis with her sister. I hadn't seen Devon in a long time. Last time I saw her, she was a preteen. When she came to Robotropolis and we saw each other again, she was twenty-two.
I hid it well, but when I first saw her, I was astonished. Her little girl body had filled out. She had the full hips, slender waist, and all the curves of a good-looking woman. She brought out a feeling I hadn't known for a while; lust.
I didn't let her know that, of course. The girl was still fond of me, even after all these years. I couldn't focus on my work for the time she was there (a few days); all I could think of was her body...most specifically, her long hair, her breasts, those beautiful legs...
That was the only time since school that I really thought of sex. A lot. If Devon just brushed up against me, I was shivering inwardly. I resisted her charms though; nothing happened.
I can't say nothing happened by myself... In the shower, I stood with the hot water beating down on me, my thoughts on her. All I could see was her, sprawled out on my bed, her hair like fire against the black blanket. My thoughts were almost always obscene... I saw her naked, back arched, her hair strewn out like red ribbons around her. Her body was always strangely shining, her nipples sparkling, the curve of her breasts heaving, a lewd smile on her lips. Her feet would twist in the sheets, her hand thrust between her legs, all nestled in among the coppery hairs.
I knew I shouldn't be thinking those thoughts, and my cheeks would get red, not just from the heat of the shower. I couldn't push them away...and my body wouldn't let go either. What happened after that is probably best left unsaid...
Drago's waking yawn jerked me out of my memories. My breathing was coming in heavier than usual. I was aroused again, and lying on my back, I didn't have time to hide it. Drago grinned toothily as he looked over at me.
"Ya want a magazine?" He thrust one through the bars and it landed on my cell floor. "Go on, pick it up. Me and Frog don't mind if you do a little 'banana peelin'."
Flying Frog laughed his usual insane laugh, and I knew my cheeks were flushed.
I sat up and pulled the blanket over my lap. "No thanks."
Drago got up and put a pair of boxer shorts on his head. The frog laughed even more. Drago smiled and began dancing around, what he probably thought was sexy; a lot of hip swinging.
"Hey, a little music here!" bellowed the wolf down the hall. Somebody down there (Ernie, actually) played guitar occasionally. A fast strumming started up. The wolf danced faster.
Flying Frog clapped his hands, laughing his green ass off. I wasn't so amused, but I allowed myself a tiny smile.
Drago twirled around, looking graceful despite his bulkiness. He grinned, eyes closed, and did a few clumsy hops and jumps. His foot landed upon one of his magazines, and he slipped, landing in a pile on the floor. The frog screamed with laughter.
"It isn't that funny," I said, but I couldn't help laughing a little.
The wolf got up. "I'm good, eh?"
"I'm better," said the frog. He stood up on his skinny green legs and twirled around like a ballerina dancer. Drago started his hip wiggling again. Ernie was playing some fast flamenco-type song now.
The wolf clapped while he danced, and winked at me. "C'mon cueball, join in!"
"I don't dance," I said, remaining on the bed.
"Aw, c'mon."
"No," I said stubbornly.
He shrugged.
They continued to dance until Ernie stopped playing, which was about ten minutes later.
I laid back on the bed, still tapping my foot to Ernie's tune. It was funny, in a way. This place was a prison, and it was more amusing than Robotropolis had ever been. What does that say about Robotropolis?
It says I'm going to have to spice up the place a little when I get back.
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts
To tell him how much he hurt you
And how he made you hurt another
Cause it makes me sad
---Poe "That Day"
"Ow...stop..."
Mama was wheezing in the background. Pops was upsetting her. But he didn't see that. All he could see was that I'd been fighting with my older sister. She shoved me. I knocked over one of mama's favorite vases. Or should I say, her only vase, a pretty piece of ceramic, with flowers painted on it.
Mama was sort of mad, but when Pops found out, he made a big deal about it. He always made big deals about any mistake I made. If my sister had broken it, he might've scolded her. But me...he was pounding me like I was a punching bag. I could feel bruises already rising on my back and my arms.
My mama was sitting on the couch. Pops drove me back against the wall. I had my arms crossed in front of me like a shield; through the space between Pop's arm and his body I could see mama slumped on the couch. Tears shone on her face, but she wouldn't speak out for me. She never did. Maybe she was afraid Pop's rage would transfer to her. I don't believe it would; he practically worshiped her, but she took no chances. I can't say I blamed her...but it made something in my heart twist...it hurt me almost as much as Pops...
Pops drew his fist back. I threw my arm up. His punch came down, striking my arm right on the elbow...my arm bent the way it wasn't supposed to. I screamed loud. Mama huddled down on the couch, her arms clasped on her head, her arms covering her ears.
"MAMA HELP ME!!" I begged her, but she just pressed her arms tighter. Willing my voice away. How could she do this to me...how could she just ignore me...her son for God's sake...
Another punch came down. It jarred my entire body, bent my ribs inwards until one cracked. The room vibrated from the force of my screams.
"SHUT UP!" Pops screamed. "YOU FUCKIN' BABY! SHUT UP!" He grabbed me by my t-shirt collar, yanking me close to him. I sobbed and leaned my head against his chest.
He yanked my head back up, my thick hair making a good handhold. "You should be ASHAMED of yourself," he sneered. "Listen to you. Carrying on like a baby! Like a little baby girl! You little bastard...you aren't my kid, no way, no way did an embarrassment like you come from me..."
His eyes bored into mine, and I stared back, my mouth dropped open. He couldn't mean it. "Pops...please..."
"SHUT UP!" His breath blasted my face. He threw me down and I howled again.
"You don't deserve a real name," he scoffed down at me. "You deserve a name that fits you. Baby, maybe. Whiner." He kicked me and I tried hard to bite back a scream, but I couldn't help it. It hurt so bad, so bad I thought I'd die, and my voice reflected that.
"Little bastard, you little craven...sniveler..." He smiled suddenly. "I like that one, huh...Sniveler. How 'bout I call you that from now on? Would you like it? You would, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, yes I would!" I sobbed. Anything to calm him down. Anything to get him away from me.
"Puh...knew you would." My mama made a small sound and he looked over at her. "Look what you did to her," he growled. He left me and cradled her in his arms. I saw her stiffen. Pops stroked her hair and mummered at her. Over her head, he glared at me.
'You did it', I wanted to scream at him. 'You HURT her. Not me.' But I was afraid to. I gazed at the back of my mama's head. She had thick reddish-brown hair. It fell a little past her shoulders.
At first glance, it looked like the head of a young woman. Her body did too, small hips and breasts. But a quick glance at her face showed she was aged. It was a false impression; she wasn't as old as she looked. But cancer will do that to you...
She whimpered and pressed her face into his chest. His arms tightened around her. I saw concern on his face. For a brief second, I felt some emotion flaring over the pain...jealously. Extreme jealousy, so intense I could almost see my skin turning green. I was so jealous of his love for her. Why couldn't I get a little piece of that love? Then he raised his eyes to mine again, and scowled.
"You still here, Sniveler? Get the fuck outta here."
Brightness hit my eyelids and I blinked. I opened them. My cruddy living room faded out and was replaced with my jail cell. It was strangely comforting. How I hated my dreams. They were either nightmares, or memories that I didn't want to remember.
Everybody's called me a coward. Pops, Julian. Julian especially. The Freedom Fighters all scoffed at me. It's true, I am a coward. But I can't help it. They don't know that Julian was a coward too. He can't face up. At least I can. I can face my past. I can forget, but I can't forgive. But he can't do either...
He was a big fool, if you ask me, in more ways than one. He thought he could rule the world. He thought he, one man (one very fat ugly man) could dominant an entire planet, but it was foolishness.
I'm stupid too, I suppose, because his dreams were mine. I wanted to rule too. I wanted the power, because I'm powerless...and I've always been. But it wasn't just the power for him...it was the hate...the pain...the fear. I would be content with someone calling me 'sir', but he wants them to hurt so bad that they won't go against him. He wants them down on their knees, humiliated.
Julian was a coward because he couldn't face his past. Not realistically. Oh no...he made up big fancy stories and taped them over the dirty stain that was his childhood. I guess he was worse off then I. Maybe. I had it bad. I don't know for sure. I'm younger than Julian by far, I wasn't around when he was a kid, but still, I know he was lying when he said his childhood was sparkling and clean and merry and all that shit.
I've got a sixth sense for detecting suffering. I can feel it, like a tremble in my mind, because I've been there. 'Been there, done that,', that's one of the 'cool' phrases now, isn't it? Well it holds true to me. When it comes to suffering, I've experienced my share.
"Look at them tits. You think they're fake, or they run in the family, eh?" Flying Frog held out his magazine towards me, but I ignored him.
Runs in the family, puh, that phrase certainly applies to mine. What runs in it, hmmm? Insanity perhaps? Delusionists? A love of alcohol? Pain...? Yes. The last certainly applies. I hated my father, but I must admit, it was his father that made him that way. Mean. Cruel. Disregarding his kids, just like his father before him. It's the gift that keeps giving, I suppose. If I ever had kids, I would've probably beaten them too...
I closed my eyes tight, feeling the pressure of my eyelids against my eyes. If I closed them tight enough, would my eyelids crush my eyes? No, of course not.
I'm thinking incoherently now. I'm sliding down, I can feel myself dropping into that pit of darkness. When one memory is stirred up, others usually follow. Instead of just living, just being, I start analyzing myself. Looking deep within. That's not a good thing. I know what's there, and it isn't good.
I'm a very hate filled being...honestly. People, they think I'm harmless, and they think I'm on the wrong side. Like I should be on the good side instead. But that's bull. I couldn't be good. I don't have any left.
My hatred didn't start with Robotnik, obviously. He just made me worse. It all started with my father...
Ah...my Pops. What can be said about him that hasn't already been said? Nothing. But my mind wouldn't let go. I had to relive his image, his actions.
Beau was my father's name, and unlike the French word, he wasn't handsome. He lived on some ranch or something when he was a kid, raising horses. He was still pretty well-built, though his muscles started turning soft when he was older.
Beau was a shitty father. I say 'was' because he's dead, good riddance. I don't say that lightly, either.
To my siblings and my two live-in cousins, Beau was kind. He joked with them. He wrestled with them. My older brother was muscular and into football, so maybe that's why. And Beau was never mean to females...so my sister and cousins got off easy.
But to me...he was anything but kind. I was small and scrawny, apathetic in school, not into sports... he hated me, and I him.
And to show his hatred for me, he put bruises on my body, and breaks in my bones, and cracks in my sanity...
It was a long time ago...I was around 12 years old. I got up early that morning. The floor was cold through my thin socks and I shivered, standing in my underwear. Saturday. Great. I didn't like Saturdays...but then again, I didn't like any day.
Devon peered in the doorway, and then sidled into the room. "Hey."
"Get out."
She looked hurt. "I'm just saying hi."
"Well, hi then."
Her eyes moved to my underwear, and she smiled.
I scowled.
"You need help gettin' dressed?" she asked, moving closer.
"NO!" I jumped backwards as her fingers touched the white cotton.
"AWWWWW...c'mon, Snivvy!!"
"Devon, knock it off." I was shivering hard now, goosebumps rising up on my bare arms. "Get out of here."
She snorted and moved closer. That's when I grabbed her by the wrists and tried to shove her away. She ended up tripping, falling to her knees, and I reached down to help her up...
That's when Pops walked in. And from his point of view, with her on her knees, and my hand reaching down towards her arm...it must've looked obscene to him.
"Devon. Out." He growled. Even though he never struck the girls, when he commanded, you obeyed. Devon rose to her feet and slunk from the room, though I suspected she hovered around my door to eavesdrop.
Pops reached behind him and shut the door. It clicked shut, and I felt my heart jump with that click. I backed away, feeling sweat beading up on my freezing skin.
"What were you doing to your cousin?" he demanded.
"Nothing," I squeaked. "I wasn't doing anything. I told her to leave so I could get dressed. But she wouldn't, so I pushed her, and she fell."
"You were trying to make her blow you, weren't you?"
At that time, I wasn't fully aware of all sex terms, so I just stared blankly at him.
"You were, weren't you? Little fucker, I'll teach you to force women..."
"I didn't do anything!" I whined.
"Making your cousin blow you, that's something all right. Something that needs punishment."
"What's blow?!" I asked in confusion, feeling nearly frantic. Oh God, I didn't need this today.
"It means you were trying to make her suck your dick!" he bellowed. "And don't tell me you weren't. Horny at your age, I know, but that doesn't call for that. You don't force women. They give it if they want. But you don't fucking force them."
"I wasn't forcing her to do anything!" I nearly screamed. His nostrils flared and he lunged at me. I scrambled over my bed, but there was nowhere to go. I pressed myself into the corner and slid down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chest for protection.
"Get up."
I remained on the floor.
"I said get up."
I started to whine, and then to cry, because I was afraid to obey him and afraid not to. He sneered upon seeing my tears.
"Get up and take your punishment like a man," he growled. "If you can think about fucking a girl, then you're a man. So get up."
I didn't want to be a man. I wanted him to go away. I wanted to be dead. I wanted anything but the pain he was going to dish out.
"Please," I said. "Please, I didn't do anything!"
"Get up."
I blinked. Wetness streamed down over my cheeks. My dad's face contorted hideously, and I tried to push myself through the wall. I wanted to disappear, to die right then. Oh God...when he made that face...he was angry, so angry.
I slowly pushed myself up to a standing position, my legs shaking badly. He just stood and looked steadily at me, his eyes blazing with intense rage. I sobbed helplessly and felt a warm trickle of liquid down my leg.
He kept looking at me.
I kept sobbing.
He grabbed my shoulder and pushed me down. Then he grabbed a handful of my hair and shoved my face agaisnt his crotch. I struggled, but couldn't even budge.
"You like that?" He drew me away.
"No!"
He shoved my face to his crotch again. "Do you think Devon liked it?!"
"I didn't..."
He pulled my hair hard. "No," I said. "No, I'm sorry."
He shoved me away. "Now you know how it feels," he growled. "And if I ever EVER catch you doing anything like that again, I'll kill you." He glared at me one more time, and left.
Suffice to say...that experience screwed up my first time having sex. I was shocked on that day. The incident haunted me. Pops was obsessed with treating women good. I think his mother had taught him that. Maybe even beaten it into him. Pops might've just been scared of women.
So I started treating girls the way he taught me. I acted like they were china dolls. If I bumped into one too hard in the crowded school hallway, I would apologize profusely. It earned me some contemptful looks and 'damn, cool it, will you?'
Eventually, when I got older, I realized women weren't fragile. I stopped being so nice to them. Oh sure, I was nice if they deserved it, but I didn't fawn all over women that passed me by.
Still, that incident with Pops stayed with me, buried deep into my subconscious.
Hmmm...I remember the night I lost my virginity. I know amazing, I'm actually not a virgin. I was cute as a kid, I guess.
The girl was not exactly top-notch. She had curly black hair, cut short. From the back, she was sometimes mistaken as a boy. From the front however, she was definitely female. Her face was slender, with hard, clean cut features. Her eyes were narrow and dark, always glittering with light. She wasn't ugly. But she was somewhat of a slut.
We were in the classic sex place...her hover-car. We were on a hilltop (imagine that), looking down over the small city we lived in. It was the haven for us Overlanders.
"Pretty boy, pretty man...how would you like to soar to the stars tonight?" Her voice rasped at me.
I was tapping my fingers to a tune on the radio, and looking at the view of the city. "Hmmm?" I looked over at her.
"You silly little thing," she laughed, and put her hand to my face, curling her fingers around a lock of my hair.
"How about I put it more simply?" She reached her fingers up to her black zip-up vest and pulled the zipper down. I felt something within tighten at the sight of her bra. Black, the color she always wore. She threw the vest into the backseat.
"Go on," she urged. I nodded, feeling a bit awkward. She knew what she was doing...I didn't. My hands trembled as she leaned forward to kiss me. Her tongue danced in my mouth, and she snuggled into my chest. I reached around her, unclasping the bra.
She leaned forward, and it dropped into her lap. Her breasts were nice...maybe not as pretty as Devon's, but still pretty. Devon's breasts were tipped with pink, this girl had brown. But whatever color, they were still quite attractive, and quite thrilling. I ran my fingers along them; the feel of the smooth flesh was very arousing.
My heart was thudding in my chest as I pinched her nipples between my fingers, rolled them around. She sighed a little and leaned her head back against the window. I gathered up my courage and leaned forward, kissing the curve of her neck, then her collarbone, and finally, her breasts. My lips closed around the nipple and I felt something jolt down my spine...electricity, lightning...something tingling and wild.
She sighed more. Must be doing something right. I moved to the other breast, and she moaned a bit. The left one was more sensitive.
She grew restless finally, and gently pushed me off. She ran her hands up my thighs, and clinked her mauve fingernails against my zipper. Her eyes meant mine, still sparkling, even though there was barely any light. She smiled; must've seen the pleading look in my eyes.
She unzipped my pants, and pulled them off with a throaty laugh. "Does my pretty man have a pretty cock too?" she crooned. She ran her hands through my hair, dragged her nails gently down the sides of my face.
I just smiled at her, slightly dreamy. She was beautiful tonight. She was a goddess tonight.
She rubbed her palm over the bulge in my underwear. It felt so nice, I just leaned back and sighed, much like she had. Then she tugged at them. I let her take them off, feeling no shame.
I closed my eyes, feeling her fingers gently exploring. A sudden wetness made me jump and I looked down. I saw the top of her head buried in my lap, felt her tongue moving over me. "OohhhGod."
I whimpered a little. It was so incredible...so beyond anything I'd felt before. I had the urge to shove her head down further, but I resisted. She knew what she was doing.
She was making slurping noises, which just turned me on more. I laced my fingers through her hair.
A voice flashed through my head. Now...now you know how it feels... I ignored it at first, but it kept getting louder.
You don't force them...you don't force them...
I shook my head, trying to shake it out. The loud growl...I recognized it as Pops.
"I'm not forcing her," I mummered. My fingers tightened in her hair.
YOU DON'T FORCE THEM!
YOU LITTLE BASTARD...
KILL YOU IF YOU DO THAT AGAIN...
I felt frantic suddenly. A feeling was building up in my belly...an explosive feeling. I knew what that was...climax, orgasm, whatever you want to call it... But something else was there. Raw terror. I started gasping, staring down at her head. At my hands curled in the hair of her head. Oh God...was I hurting her...was I making her...
Something in my throat trembled, and I started sobbing suddenly. Every breath I took in came out wheezy and scared.
She looked up, a little frown on her face. It turned to a smile. "You really like this, don't you?"
Her head went back down. My body jerked and a weird cry came from my mouth. I was swept away by a fierce and wild sensation.
She raised her head up again.
"Are you all right?" I asked.
"Of course, little man." She licked her lips. "You did dribble on my seats a little. Nothing to worry about. Not like it hasn't happened before." She closed her eye in a lewd wink.
She reached her hands down to her black skirt, and unzipped it. It fell onto the seat. Her panties, also black, followed quickly.
I gawked a little, which made her laugh heartily. Then she sprawled out, as if displaying herself for my wittle virgin eyes.
"Fuck me good and hard, my pretty man," she rasped. My, she always had a way with words.
I was already hard again, imagine that. STAY OUT OF MY HEAD, I ordered that nasty voice of my pops.
I wanted to poke around a little, explore her female bits first, but she looked impatient. I realized she'd gotten me off, but I hadn't done much for her yet.
I jabbed my finger at her first. She snarled at me. "Not your hands, my anemic little boy...your cock."
"All right, all right," I said, giving in happily.
I crawled over the seat until I was above her. I looked down at her face, feeling a bit awkward. She'd done it so many times...how could I satisfy her?
I missed at first. She laughed her head off. "Do you need me to guide you?" she asked.
"No," I snapped, feeling heat seep into my cheeks. I moved more carefully, and knew I was right this time. I felt myself ease into her. She blew her breath out, looking contended.
"I do love the feel of a cock in me."
I wasn't as nonchalant, gasping and panting. We weren't even moving yet, and I felt like I was going to explode. The feel of her was incredible.
"You gonna just lay there or what?" Her voice nipped at me.
"Ummm...all right," I mummered. I tried to think of what to do. You know what to do! A voice shouted at me. Thrust. In and out.
So I did. It felt awkward at first. But I got into it, and she started moving with me. It was going great until she started making noise.
"YESSSS!" She screeched. "HARDER! Come on, yes...that's it." Her hips moved against me. I was grinning like a fool, but it was pretty amazing. I heard somebody say one time that sex was overrated, but for me it wasn't. It felt pretty damn good.
Her cries were turning into shrieking, primal desperate screaming. I slowed down a little, my forehead wrinkling worriedly.
LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER, YOU BASTARD! YOU HURT HER!! I cringed suddenly, imagining Pop's fist.
"Noooo, please, not now."
She screamed louder, her hands clutching at me.
I felt my lungs panic, and refuse to take in air. Shit...I felt dizzy, and now I was hyperventilating... I felt the pleasure seep out. All I could hear was her screaming...and Pops hollering at me...and mama crying...
"NO!" I wailed. "STOP!"
I wasn't excited anymore. I was frightened and suddenly vulnerable.
"What the hell?" She wiggled out from under me. "You're limp as a worm, little boy. You didn't cum, I would've felt it."
I leaned my head back against the window, my eyes wide in panic. I couldn't breathe...
She slapped me hard. "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I whined. "I can't do it anymore."
"Goddamn, this is what I get for boning a virgin." She rubbed her hand over her forehead, looking pissed. "You can't get up again?"
I knew I couldn't, so I didn't lie. "No, I'm sorry."
She reached over me and opened the car door. I nearly fell out, and she helped me along, shoving me out.
"Wait!" I cried, but the car whirred to life and she left me alone on the hilltop.
I sat there, half-naked. My pants and skivvies were in her car...DAMN. My shirt wasn't long enough to cover anything.
The grass was itchy under my bare ass, not to mention cold with night dew.
"DAMN YOU!" I screamed suddenly. "DAMN YOU!!!!" I realized that I was screaming it at my father.
He was the reason I was here.
My second try, with a different girl, was better. No nasty voice of Pops whispering what a bad boy I was. I was satisfied with it, but the girl obviously wasn't; she dumped me soon after.
After that, I didn't think of sex so much. Or rather, didn't pursue it. Especially after I started working for Julian. We were always working on something, so I was busy, and even busier when he started on his plan to overthrow the king.
My thoughts wandered to a girl with hair of fire, eyes the color of ocean water, green and blue. Devon. Why did any thoughts of women always come back to her?
Because you're in love, a squeaky little voice said, but I ignored it.
I remember the last time I saw her...
She came to Robotropolis with her sister. I hadn't seen Devon in a long time. Last time I saw her, she was a preteen. When she came to Robotropolis and we saw each other again, she was twenty-two.
I hid it well, but when I first saw her, I was astonished. Her little girl body had filled out. She had the full hips, slender waist, and all the curves of a good-looking woman. She brought out a feeling I hadn't known for a while; lust.
I didn't let her know that, of course. The girl was still fond of me, even after all these years. I couldn't focus on my work for the time she was there (a few days); all I could think of was her body...most specifically, her long hair, her breasts, those beautiful legs...
That was the only time since school that I really thought of sex. A lot. If Devon just brushed up against me, I was shivering inwardly. I resisted her charms though; nothing happened.
I can't say nothing happened by myself... In the shower, I stood with the hot water beating down on me, my thoughts on her. All I could see was her, sprawled out on my bed, her hair like fire against the black blanket. My thoughts were almost always obscene... I saw her naked, back arched, her hair strewn out like red ribbons around her. Her body was always strangely shining, her nipples sparkling, the curve of her breasts heaving, a lewd smile on her lips. Her feet would twist in the sheets, her hand thrust between her legs, all nestled in among the coppery hairs.
I knew I shouldn't be thinking those thoughts, and my cheeks would get red, not just from the heat of the shower. I couldn't push them away...and my body wouldn't let go either. What happened after that is probably best left unsaid...
Drago's waking yawn jerked me out of my memories. My breathing was coming in heavier than usual. I was aroused again, and lying on my back, I didn't have time to hide it. Drago grinned toothily as he looked over at me.
"Ya want a magazine?" He thrust one through the bars and it landed on my cell floor. "Go on, pick it up. Me and Frog don't mind if you do a little 'banana peelin'."
Flying Frog laughed his usual insane laugh, and I knew my cheeks were flushed.
I sat up and pulled the blanket over my lap. "No thanks."
Drago got up and put a pair of boxer shorts on his head. The frog laughed even more. Drago smiled and began dancing around, what he probably thought was sexy; a lot of hip swinging.
"Hey, a little music here!" bellowed the wolf down the hall. Somebody down there (Ernie, actually) played guitar occasionally. A fast strumming started up. The wolf danced faster.
Flying Frog clapped his hands, laughing his green ass off. I wasn't so amused, but I allowed myself a tiny smile.
Drago twirled around, looking graceful despite his bulkiness. He grinned, eyes closed, and did a few clumsy hops and jumps. His foot landed upon one of his magazines, and he slipped, landing in a pile on the floor. The frog screamed with laughter.
"It isn't that funny," I said, but I couldn't help laughing a little.
The wolf got up. "I'm good, eh?"
"I'm better," said the frog. He stood up on his skinny green legs and twirled around like a ballerina dancer. Drago started his hip wiggling again. Ernie was playing some fast flamenco-type song now.
The wolf clapped while he danced, and winked at me. "C'mon cueball, join in!"
"I don't dance," I said, remaining on the bed.
"Aw, c'mon."
"No," I said stubbornly.
He shrugged.
They continued to dance until Ernie stopped playing, which was about ten minutes later.
I laid back on the bed, still tapping my foot to Ernie's tune. It was funny, in a way. This place was a prison, and it was more amusing than Robotropolis had ever been. What does that say about Robotropolis?
It says I'm going to have to spice up the place a little when I get back.