Lucian Ch. 02

"Are you afraid of me, Lucian?" she asked. "I took you in my mouth, remember? I wasn't afraid. I swallowed your sperm."

He stared into her dancing pupils, feeling a heat rise up his throat. Was it shame, embarrassment? She'd comforted him. She'd let him cry out his misery.

Was he asshole enough to refuse her now?

"I'm sorry," he muttered, giving up his resistance. "I feel so confused."

Her face relaxed at once; her eyebrows rose and her lips pouted.

"Yes," she said. "I guess they're being very hard on you."

His palm rested on the knob now; it felt hot and slick and it seemed to pulse. He looked up to find her flushed face.

"Tell me about you, Drew," he said. "Did you go through the same thing?"

"No, I guess I had it easier," she said, covering his hand with both of hers as she slowly squirmed against his palm. Her voice was soft, slightly trembling. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip.

"You see, Lucian," she went on, reopening her eyes. "We are all a bit the same here, and a lot different. For you this school may feel like a prison where you've been dumped, expecting nothing but horrible things. For me it was, well... freedom."

She gyrated faster, pushing herself more intensely against his hand as she softly moaned. He kept watching her eyes; they'd closed again. Her pink tongue moistened her lips. Then she shuddered, mewling like a kitten. Both her hands squeezed his as her thighs became a vice. Her body tensed up for a second; then she relaxed again.

Opening her eyes, she smiled. 'Thank you,' she mimed.

When he pulled back there were strands of clear, sticky stuff stretching between her crotch and his hand. She took his hand again and brought it to her mouth, licking the slime off his palm. She smiled, watching him.

"You look shocked," she said with a giggle.

"Why is it different for you -- freedom even?" he asked, ignoring her remark. She shrugged and stretched herself next to him, not bothering to get dressed. Resting the back of her head on her hands, she looked at the ceiling.

"My parents died when I was 6," she began. "I have hardly any close kin, so I ended up in a foster family, and then another foster family. After a third try I was 10 and miserable and abused and lonely. I guess I was like the boy in the French novel 'Nobody's Boy.' I maybe read it a million times, you know it?"

"Go on," he said. She muttered.

"Anyway," she went on. "When this third family didn't work, I ended up in a boarding school -- not this one, but one like it, a junior high. I was 12 by then." She paused. "You have to know I was a queer kid," she went on. Lucian snorted.

"Let me guess," he said. "You hated sports, ran away from fights and still got beaten all the time."

"Yes," she said. "I guess you know the routine. But I got beaten up by girls. I wanted to be with them, be like them, ever since I can remember. I guess I wanted to be one of them, but they chased me off and ridiculed me -- sometimes sending boys after me to beat me up."

Lucian felt her shiver against him. He tried to move an awkward arm around her, but the pillow was in the way.

"Boarding school was different," Drew resumed, after pushing her body closer to his. "I mean: different from my other schools. There was tolerance for boys like me. Teachers pointed out they wouldn't accept bullying. I guess most boys there were homo's in the making anyway, and the girls let me play with them, even wear their clothes."

Lucian raised his hand and let it float over her crotch.

"And this?" he asked. "Did they do that to you there?"

Drew faked not understanding what he meant. She looked at him, at his dangling hand and then at her little fat knob. At last she chuckled.

"Ah, you mean my pipi?" she said. "I prefer to call it my clit and no, it has always been like this -- maybe it grew a bit fatter in my puberty. Don't you love it? I do, I think it's beautiful."

She took it between her thumb and forefinger, causing a drop of clear fluid to well from the exposed slit. She rubbed a finger over it and brought it to his lips.

"Wanna taste?" she asked. When he shook his head 'no,' she shrugged and licked it off herself. "Mmmm," she said. "I taste good, you know?"

"I told you they circumcised me here without asking," he said after a moment of silence. "I guess you knew already; you were there to look after me. But did you know they injected my balls too, when I was out?"

He watched her closely. She shrugged again.

"I knew you were circumcised," she said. "Nothing special there."

He looked away.

"Have you been castrated?" he then asked. Drew inhaled sharply.

"God no!" she exclaimed as the air left her again. "What do you think I just licked off your hand?"

Lucian looked pointedly at her smooth crotch.

"No balls," he said. She followed his gaze, then smiled.

"Ah, I see," she said. "But I do have them, don't worry. They just never came out. Sometimes that happens."

She took his hand and moved it where her balls should have been. The skin felt soft, but tight.

"They're inside," she repeated. "Alive and kicking." Her skin was smooth like cream; no hair, not even a telltale speckling of shaven follicles.

"I'm beautiful, don't you think, Lucian?" she whispered, squeezing his hand. "Tell me I am." He knew he agreed she was. But he could not say it. He just could not make his mouth say it.

A slight shadow of disappointment darkened her face.

"What about the other girls?" he asked, but she kept silent. He looked up and saw moisture on her cheeks. He rose on his elbow.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You are beautiful; as a girl, I mean."

She moved her face away.

"I'm not a girl, stupid," she muttered into her pillow. Then she returned her face to him. "You are stupid, like everybody out there. You see me as a girl, so you think my clit makes me an ugly freak!"

She slapped her crotch as she said it. When she raised her hand again, he grabbed it. Her eyes flew his way -- dark and angry.

"I'm sorry," he said. "And I lied. You are beautiful... it is beautiful."

"Prove it!" she said, squeezing his hand.

"Prove what?"

"Take it in your mouth."

He felt the heat of a blush. Time passed. Her angry eyes closed; she shook her head slowly.

"I knew it," she whispered.

Lucian brought his head closer to her crotch. He smelled the sweet perfume of her skin, and a deeper, muskier scent when he was right over her drooling button.

He felt her hand on his hair, pulling him further down.

He gulped and opened his lips. His head was in turmoil. A steady buzz overwhelmed his screaming panic as the round, rubbery object slid past his parting teeth, just about touching his tongue. She was in, and getting deeper in as she pulled his face into the creamy flesh of her lower body.

"Suck," she said, her voice drowning in the buzz. He closed his lips around the tiny, fat penis. It felt hot to his tongue and the soft insides of his lips.

"Harder."

She tasted sweet; it must be the soap and lotion from her showering. But there also was a slightly tangy edge to it that increased as he sucked harder.

The girl started bumping into his face as she repeated her instruction to suck harder. But her words got scrambled from fast breathing and high-pitched moaning. Both her hands were clasped over his skull now and she pulled him into a faster rhythm. He gasped to find air whenever he could.

"My ass!" he heard; it almost sounded like a sob. "Fuck my ass!"

She raised her lower body, folding her long legs backward and holding them in place with her hands clutching her ankles. His head free now, Lucian raised it. Letting go of her penis he watched the flushed, shining mess of her crotch.

"Do it!" she cried. "Put a finger in."

Her hands left the ankles and clutched her ass cheeks, pulling them apart. Lucian saw the tight entrance of her anus. It seemed to gasp -- like a little child's mouth opening and closing. He touched it with a forefinger. Drew shivered.

Then she pushed forward, making the finger slide in.

"Oh God," she groaned and pushed again. The finger disappeared to the knuckle. The soft flesh burned around it like a tiny oven, sucking on it like he had sucked on her penis.

"Fuck me, dammit," she hissed, "and suck my cock."

Lucian went back to her penis, taking it in as he started to fuck her anus slowly, afraid to hurt her. The tang was more pronounced now, almost tart -- and she was very wet.

"Harder, fuck me harder!"

He did.

"Two fingers!"

He pulled out and added a second finger, stretching her glowing sphincter. He also increased his sucking.

"Yes! Yes!" Her voice broke as she pushed back into his prodding.

"Deeper! Find it -- deeper! Turn... up, up. No, yes, yes."

Maybe he found what she begged for; he had no idea, but Drew started to buck and arch her body as he massaged her inner bowels as deep as he could get -- twisting, searching with the tips of his fingers. She got suddenly quiet, holding her body stiff, only resting on her head and heels. No voice, no breathing --

And then she exploded into an orgy of spasms.

Gush after gush of hot, salty-bitter liquid flushed the back of his tongue, pooling against his throat, backing up and seeping out again past the plug of her throbbing penis. Through the roaring of his own blood he heard her scream and scream again. Her fingers clawed into his scalp, her thighs squeezed his head until she just as suddenly fell back on the bed, limp and panting -- a tremor rippling her skin.

She seemed unconscious, but her body kept shaking with little spasms. Her lashes fluttered, showing the white of her eyes; and she mumbled -- not words, just sounds.

Drew had come in his mouth and Lucian had swallowed the first load before realizing what he did. And when he did realize, he gagged. He couldn't help it. It made bile and sperm flow back into his mouth, causing him to gag even more.

He felt sick -- and he felt guilty for feeling sick. Drew had swallowed his sperm gladly, why couldn't he?

Lucian watched the semi-conscious girl for another minute -- seeing the sweat on her flushed skin, the fluttering eyes, and the twitching legs. Then he crawled off the bed and went into his tiny bathroom where he drank water and gargled to clean his mouth.

When he returned, Drew knelt on the bed.

"You spit it out," she said. Her voice was a monotone. There was no accusation, just the stating of fact.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It made me gag. I've never before..."

Drew knee-walked towards him. When she was at the edge of the bed, she took Lucian's face in her hands. She pulled him to her and kissed him with her weak, wide-open lips, effectively cutting off his words.

"I understand," she said when she finally let go. "Don't feel sorry -- ever. You just took me to heaven."

Lucian felt clumsy.

The girl knew so much more than he did; not just about lovemaking, just... everything... how to be a person, a nice human being, open, friendly; how to smile and joke.

How to accept who she was -- or he, or whatever.

Lucian sat down on the bed. Drew slid beside him, her arm around his shoulders.

"Now tell me about you," she asked. He shrugged.

"No story," he said. "I just don't want to be here; I want to run away."

He felt her stiffen.

"But why, Lucian?" Her voice was a whisper.

"I don't belong here," he said.

She slid off the bed and knelt in front of him, reaching for his face. Her thumbs removed the curls from his brow.

"Don't leave, Lucian!" she insisted. "It'll be such a shame. You can be the very best this school ever had, you know? The most beautiful and the fastest and cleverest and sweetest, and successfulest. Where else would you go? Who'll give you the chances you get here?"

He leaned back to get away from her hands.

"Sounds like Kurtz," he said. "Did she tell you to go to me and say that?" She blushed.

"Of course not!" She sounded indignant.

"But she did talk to you about me." Drew blushed deeper.

"I thought so."

She got hold of his hands, bringing them up and kissing them.

"It isn't as you think, Lucian," she said softly, holding his gaze. "Yes, she asked me to go see you; but what I did tell you were my thoughts, my wishes. Don't leave, Lucian. Not this school, not me... Stay. It'll all get so much better."

'Not me, she said,' he thought. She said he shouldn't leave her.

"Why did you say that?" he asked. She looked confused.

"What?" she asked, eyes wide. "About you not running off?"

"No," he answered, retracting his hands. "About me not leaving you. What do you mean?"

Drew's blush returned with a vengeance.

"Nothing," she mumbled. "Just don't leave me, Lucian."

"Then come with me," he proposed. "Let's run off together."

She didn't respond to that. What she did do was turn away and pick up her silk panties. She stepped into them and pulled them up over her smooth legs, her crotch and ass. The little red knob pushed its small but still swollen presence into the shiny material, like a fat nipple. Then Drew picked up her shorts and top and shirt, donning them.

Bending over for her shoes Lucian admired her supple, slender body. She was a dancer and a runner. She was beautiful. And she'd asked him not to leave her. His hand reached out, almost touching her shining curves.

Then she rose again and the moment passed.

She stood in front of him, slightly taller. The white ballet shoes dangled from her hand. She didn't smile.

"Don't go, Lucian," she said and gave his nose a peck with her pouting lips. "Promise."

Then she turned and was gone.

***

I guess it is a female thing to meddle with other people's lives, wanting to save them from themselves.

Mother knows best, and all that.

When evening came, Lucian started feeling weak from hunger.

He'd stayed in bed after Drew left, naked, thinking -- and recalling his first experiences of real sex with a live, soft body. A girl? He couldn't bring himself to think of her as that. She'd sucked him; he'd sucked her and fucked her with his fingers. In his memories he called her a she, but maybe that was just because if he didn't, what would that make of him?

His mind objected to what he did, but his penis swelled and rose from its soft little bed, twitching. Girl or not, Drew excited and aroused him whenever he thought of her... him... it?

There was a constant buzz in his head, and it distracted him from what he should really be thinking about: escape.

But then again, if escape really was what he wanted, why did he have to force himself to keep it top of mind? He sighed and once more touched his penis. It didn't really get hard, it just... swelled. It pulsed and once in a while a drop of clear liquid escaped its slit.

Lucian was a boy, even younger than his age. Young boys aren't philosophers. They move and react before they think. They don't know how to reflect on things happening inside them -- like wondering why the buzz in his head had the exact same frequency as the ebbing and flooding of his tingling penis.

He shrugged and let go of the small, hot member, trying to return to his haphazard plotting.

To get out successfully he needed his old clothes. He knew that, but he didn't know where they were and how to get to them. He also needed transport. He recalled how far his mother had driven through an almost empty landscape of rolling hills.

Would there even be enough cars passing by to hitch hike?

He remembered seeing a movie where inmates hid in laundry baskets to get out. But as far as he knew, the school was entirely self-supporting. Maybe he could hide in waste bins? Only pondering it made him gag.

And then his stomach growled.

Damn, his tiny alarm clock said it was almost eight. He scrambled off the bed, grabbing his shorts and shirt. The laces of his ballet shoes got hopelessly entangled, so he threw them away and ran barefoot through the corridors.

Two girls in long aprons were busy putting the chairs on the empty tables, and mopping the tiled floor of the big dining hall. One of them was the Asian girl who had been serving him at the late dinner he had with Parker and Kurtz. What was her name again? Nico.

"Oh my God," he said. "I'm late." He stood panting, feeling awkward.

The girl Nico put down a chair and turned to check him out -- the wrinkled clothes, the bare feet and his messy hair. She grinned.

"Oversleeping for dinner," she said. "That's a first."

The other girl chuckled. She was a tall redhead, thin as a reed, her face all smiles.

"You're Lucian, aren't you?" Nico went on. "I remember your hair. Weren't you eating with Parker and Kurtz?"

He nodded.

"Sorry," he said. "I guess all the food is gone?"

Nico frowned as if thinking hard. She turned to the other girl and they started the age-old game of teasing someone entirely in their power.

"Poor boy," Nico said.

"Poor boy," the red head agreed. "I can hear his tummy growl from here."

They giggled. Nico got closer, prodding his stomach with a hard finger.

"We shouldn't fatten them up, our little Bob puppies, eh, Sandy?" she said, grinning.

"You're right," the girl Sandy responded. "They're getting chubbier by the day."

They both laughed out loud now.

Lucian knew they were just joking, but the hunger, the weakness and the terror of the day made him collapse. Tears sprang from his eyes and he turned around to leave.

A hand stopped him.

"Oh my, honey," the Asian girl said, wrapping an arm around him. "Don't cry. Of course we have some food left for you. Come, sit down here, Sandy will get you a bite."

She led Lucian to a small table in a corner, cleaning it with a rag after he sat down. Then she got him a big glass of fruit juice and joined him on another chair. He shook himself, trying to stop the sobbing. Her hand rested on his forearm.

Why had they all to be so damn friendly?

"Drink," she said. He took a long, deep draft. He had no idea what fruit was in it. It tasted tangy, maybe grapefruit.

"Drew told me your mom dumped you here," Nico said. "And that you had your pipi clipped against your will. I can see how that would make me feel."

Lucian took another gulp and didn't answer.

He just studied the girl; her perfectly oval face, the dark slanted eyes, the short blue-black hair. It was hard to not see her as a girl, even more so than Drew. She looked soft and smooth all over -- her bare arms, her dainty fingers, and whatever skin the low-cut apron showed. And yet she wasn't. There was this tiny sperm-spewing thing in her panties, and it was all he could think of now.

He finished the glass.

As he put it down, he missed the table by an inch, but he never heard it shatter on the floor. Soft female arms stopped him before he slid off his chair.

***

Things were all white again, and out of focus. He knew where he was, even before really looking. Maybe it was the smell, or the feel of the place.

"Lucian?"

He knew the voice too, even before seeing the crookedly smiling mouth it came from.

"Go away," he tried to say from a parched throat.

He turned his face away. His balls throbbed in a familiar way. His head ached. He never felt as alone as he did right now.

A hand touched his shoulder; he shrugged to shake it off, but it returned -- warm and insisting.

"Leave me alone," he said; the words came out garbled.

"Don't be mad, please, Lucian," the good doctor said. "It is all for the best, believe me."

That was when he cried a mighty cry; or he thought so. Maybe it was just a groan -- or worse: a whine. Trying to sit up took him two tries. He just felt too tired.