The room was spinning, my eyelids felt heavy. I could hear someone pacing in the room.
“Who is in my room?” I asked lazily. My voice sounded like a drowsy whisper to my ears. Ugh, my mum needs to learn to respect my privacy. Honestly! I thought wrathfully as I strived to get my faculties in order.
I made to sit up, and instantly regretted it. Every muscle in my body screamed when I moved too fast, my chest was hurting the most. I struggled to open my eyes, wincing at the intrusion of light on my retinas. I blinked, slowly and tortuously getting my sight to focus.
And there he was, smiling at me uncertainly.
“Oh Lord. I’m not home…” I groaned.
Still struggling to organize my chaotic mind, I moved my head slowly left and right to survey the scattered room. My head wailed again in protestation. I stopped moving it and lowered it into my hands. I mumbled to myself, “No more moving.”
“Are you…alright?” I heard him ask, his voice sagged with hesitation.
“No,” I said huskily. “I need water and air and a new body and maybe a new head. This one hurts too much.”
There was a stir in the room as Harry, no doubt, left to do my bidding. Just the request for water, of course. After a few moments, when my mind had been lulled into a sense of wellness, I decided to move again, to take stock of my environment in a bid to figure out how and why I was here. As I lifted myself up from the bed, a dull pain shot through my posterior. It was leaden, an ache that throbbed through my anus, but the unexpectedness of it had me gasping sharply as I dropped back onto the bed. My ass was on fire. Tears stung my eyes as I sat still, bracing myself against the unheralded pain.
Harry must have heard my sound of discomfort, because he came bustling into the room with an air of panic. “Are you alright… What is wrong…” His eyes flew over me, taking in my distressed countenance and watching me as I glanced down on the sheets upon which I was sitting.
There were crimson patches, startling against the milky material of the bed sheet. I had bled too. What had I been up to last night? I thought as a crush of emotions weighed down on my insides. My eyes had begun to well up even faster, and when I blinked, beads of tears dropped through my lashes. Confusion gnawed at my mind, undoubtedly etched itself on my face. Synapses began to fire in my head as I tried to remember something, something that was suddenly very important.
“Here’s your water, Jeremy,” Harry said, hovering over me with a glass of water.
I recoiled slightly away from him. Suddenly, the thought of letting anything in through my mouth filled with a huge wave of nausea. I laid back down on the bed, still trying to clutch at the elusive thought teasing the very edges of my mind. I had to remember. I stretched mentally, stretched and finally caught it. I grabbed it, felt it, poked through it. And a shiver ran through my spine as bits and pieces of the panorama that was yesterday began to filter through.
The shiver began to gain prominence and before long, I was trembling visibly on the bed.
“Don’t talk to me…” I croaked.
Count to ten and maybe it will go away, a voice within me soothed. But it didn’t go away. It had already happened.
Last night, I’d agreed to meet him. He had said it was urgent and so I decided to meet him up at my estate gate. It was 10 o’clock and I’d been waiting for fifteen minutes already. I’d known Harry for two months. He was a sweetheart who I met at a New Year’s party. But he made me extremely uncertain, the kind of unpredictable guys I usually stayed away from. But I liked him anyway, and he was also nice, evidently into me.
From my vantage spot at the estate gateway, I squinted at the light traffic plying the main road traversing the neighborhood’s entranceway, hoping to spot a familiar red car. I was starting to lose my patience, and I didn’t like the odd looks the security men were giving me from their post or the presence of the suya seller beside me; the dusky-skinned Northerner was starting to give me the creeps.
“Where the fuck are you, Harry?” I muttered wrathfully to myself, promising that I’d wait an extra five minutes and that was it. I’d get back inside and shun him should he eventually get to the gate and ask me to come meet him.
Just then however, there was a flash of headlights as a car pulled up a short distance away from the gate. Before I could ascertain the colour, the car honked. The light inside flickered on and then off, but the brief illumination was enough to reveal Harry as the driver.
I blew out an irritated breath as I walked over to get inside the car. “Two more minutes and I’d have left.” My voice was stern enough to convey my seriousness.
“I’m sorry. There was a bit of traffic.” He was smiling.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked with a scowl.
“How are you?” he asked, still smiling, clearly unfazed by my sour mood.
“I’m okay. How was work?”
“Stressful… Hey, want a drink?” He pointed at a Pepsi bottle anchored in the compartment between our seats.
“No, I don’t want a drink.” As an afterthought, I added, “Thanks.”
He nodded and glanced out the window. He’d parked in a very secluded corner, made so by the trees whose branches shielded us from the glare of the streetlights with their branches. Then he picked up his phone and began moving his thumb over the keypad.
“You wanted to talk?” I inquired, lifting my brows at him. Was he seriously about to ping after asking me out this late in the night?
“Not really. Do I need a reason to see you?” He stopped typing to look at me.
“At past 10 pm? Yes, Harry. You need a very good reason,” I retorted, very exasperated.
He didn’t reply. He just blinked at me.
“Sure you don’t want a drink?” he finally said, after a taking a sip himself.
“Is there gold in there?” I snapped. “You’ve asked me that like a zillion times already.”
He chuckled. “You’re always so hot, Jeremy. Feisty and everything. That’s why I like you. But you seem on edge today.”
What? Is this dude kidding? I thought, widening my eyes as my irritation fountained. How in the hell am I on edge? You’re the one that got me out this late and kept me waiting!
I was about to voice my aggravation when I suddenly pedaled backward, belatedly noticing the bite in every word I’d said to him since he got here. I expelled a heavy breath.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day. And you know I hate waiting.” I eyed the Pepsi. “Maybe I do need a drink.”
Harry watched every gulp that sluiced down my throat as I drank, surprised at my own thirst. I nearly finished the bottle in that one swig and then looked back at him, seeing him stare. I belched.
“What? You’re the one who’s been asking me to take a drink.” I lifted finger quotes on the last three words. “Well, it’s mine now.” I hugged the bottle playfully to my chest, before taking a few more sips.
“What did you do today?” Harry asked in a conversational tone.
“Nothing much. I watched a lot of TV though.”
“Hmm.” He did that a lot, I’d come to notice, especially when something was on his mind. “Can I kiss you?”
Clearly that was what was on his mind.
I let out a surprised laugh. “Well, that’s random.”
“Yeah. So can I?” he asked again with a directness I wasn’t sure I had seen before. He seemed almost certain I wouldn’t say no, which was surprising considering how faithfully I’d turned down his propositions of sex in the two months we’d known each other. You’d think he’d come to expect my refusals.
I decided to tease him. “No. You cannot kiss me.” I said this with a coy smile.
“Okay,” he said simply.
I laughed again and shook my head. “You big child,” I said and leaned toward him to place my lips on his.
We kissed for a while. I was hit by surprise on two counts, that I’d taken the initiative to do this and that I was enjoying the kiss very much. I pulled back.
“Hmmm,” he went again.
I was trying to catch my breath as I gathered back my wits which the kiss that winnowed away. I felt mindless from the kiss. Mindless? After just a few seconds of a kiss? Puhleeze! I gave a shrug, attempting to ward off any effect Harry’s kiss had had on me, real or imagined.
“That was great,” he murmured.
I looked at him, saw the lust in his eyes and suddenly, the naked emotion seemed to ping something off of me. An instant surge of hunger coursed through me, and I felt my adrenaline begin to spike and my breath quicken as I stared back at him. I felt hot and then hotter and then cold. I was suddenly horny – absolutely very horny.
“What the hell?” I gasped.
Fire continued to rage through me as shivers of desire ran up my spine. I could feel my penis lengthening and hardening in a matter of seconds within the confines of my pants. My breathing escalated and I glanced at Harry, who was still focused on my face and was apparently oblivious to how flustered I was feeling.
Or was he? I couldn’t tell.
I closed my eyes and felt something shut off in me.
And now that I was thinking about it, I realized it was my common sense. Yes! It had to be. Harry and I had discussed sex before, tirelessly. But it had been a big ‘NO’ from me, because I hadn’t had sex in almost two years. I was practicing some celibacy and the power that gave me over my lustful inclinations helped fortify my decision not to want to get intimate with Harry.
But right then, celibacy was the last thing on my mind as I moved my hands up to Harry, one grabbing at his neck and the other clutching the front of his shirt. I hated the fabric separating me from his skin, as my hand curled down into his jeans, and then past his zipper into his briefs. I felt his penis quickly grow in my hand. My breath hitched. Oh! I wanted him really bad. I needed him.
I moved out of my seat, sliding my body neatly past the compartment separating our seats and dropped myself on his laps. He grunted. I didn’t care. I was totally and utterly in lust with this man. Not for the first time, yes, but in the past two years, I had attained a powerful level of restraint that the pope would be proud of. But where was that now?
I captured his lips with mine, tasting his tongue. He retreated from our kiss. He seemed startled by my take-charge attitude. I groaned, hinting at a protestation. I grasped his head to me and devoured him once more. He kissed me back hesitantly at first, evidently surprised for someone who’d been hoping to rip my chastity belt right off since we met.
“Wait…” he breathed out. “Just wait…” He was observing me with a puzzled, almost guilty gaze. Then something was turned off behind his gaze and he flashed a smile, one which filled my dick the more. “Let’s go to my place,” he murmured.
“Why?” I could hear the whimper in my voice, the desperation. I had forgotten that I was in a car, a few yards away from the security post, and at God-knows-what-time.
Stop. Get yourself in order, I heard something within me admonish. I tried to obey but my body seemed to be kicking me off the decision-making council. I moved my hands back to his jeans.
He stayed the adventure with his own hand. “Patience, babe,” he whispered, and then transferred me back to my seat before turning his ignition.
And just then, right there, a blackness swallowed my recollection of last night, a hole was punctured in my mind right after Harry turned his ignition. I lay on his bed and I couldn’t remember what happened next. There was a gap in my memory threatening to stay permanently deleted.
What I suddenly recollected was us being at his home, in his bedroom, on his bed. He was seated and I was on top of him, nestled on the intersection between his thighs and his crotch. We were grinding against each other, the connection of my derriere on his groin matching the rhythm of our interlocked lips.
I groaned then, despising our clothes again. Why did everyone have to wear so much? I thought wrathfully. It was all so unnecessary. I pulled away from him and began taking off my shirt.
“Hold on,” he said in the sexiest, roughest way I had ever heard him speak.
I paused. He pulled my shirt off himself, gently, using his fingers to make motions on my skin. I writhed on top of him. He squeezed my ass tight with his palms. I moaned.
“I want you. Now!” I panted.
I bit my lip and watched him mimic my lip movement with an impious grin. He bent my head for his tongue to run all over my neck. I was on a new kind of high then. He moved my arms behind me, holding them in place with one hand tight enough that the joints on my shoulders began to hurt. He squeezed my butt again, his fingers digging hard into the cheeks. I moaned again, and his countenance fired up with passion. He seemed to be getting rough but I didn’t care. I threw my head back and –
Another hole yawned in my mind, swallowing chunks of my memory into nothingness. I blinked, tense on the bed, reaching forward, anxious to remember. The shards that floated back to me only afforded me glimpses…
My hands were bound by what I couldn’t tell. My movement seemed limited. I was having trouble focusing on anything. There was pain but it was far away. There was no safe word for this red room…
And then, my hands were unbound.
“Don’t. Not yet.” His voice was commanding as he swatted my hands away from my body. I gave a whimper of frustration. I didn’t want him to tell me what to do. I hated it. I simply wanted relief, something to quench these fires raging in me. I needed relief. And I was going to have it…
Everything seemed to whirl in a kaleidoscope of colours and sounds, of pounding activity and quick intermissions, an endless whorl that strung hours together to mean nothing. Nothing meant anything, nothing except the rush to have and be had.
“Give it to me!” I said in a near-hiss as he pounded me from behind.
And then he paused, pulled out of me and with one swift move, spun me over and pulled me back against him. My back landed hard on the bed, causing some air to be knocked out of me. My head throbbed. I put my palm over my face, as I clasped the other hand over his sweat-slick back. He panted hotly against the side of my head as he heaved on top of me.
My mind twisted and turned. My vision blurred again and again. I could hear my heart pounding. I felt sweat trickle down my face, and my perspiration drenched my body, meshing with his. My skin was on fire. I was breathing hard.
And then, tiny holes of light began to pierce the darkness, specks that let rays slice through my murky mind. Sanity began to creep in. What time was it? Where was I? I felt incredibly sick. I was beset my emotions – confusion, uncertainty, fear. My stomach heaved.
“I think I’m going to be sick…” I groaned.
But he was too focused on his journey to know that the fun was over for me.
“Fuck, Harry! Stop!” I raged.
“Don’t touch me!” I hissed. There was no strength in my voice, but it bore enough intensity to convey the ferociousness of my demand.
His hand withdrew from me.
I’d remembered enough. I clenched my fist, immediately wincing at the bruise on my wrist. I remained lying there, barely covered, staring furiously at the ceiling, feeling tears slide from my eyes to moisten the pillow beneath my head.
Harry left the room and soon returned with some pills. The glass of water was still in his hand.
“You have to take these,” he said almost pleadingly.
I turned my head and looked at the pills. Then in spite of my aching head, I let out a hysterical laugh. It wasn’t funny. Nothing was at the moment. And yet I laughed.
He looked at the pills too and winced.
I stopped laughing then, and my expression shuttered. My voice was arctic when I said, “I want to hear you say it.”
“Jeremy, it’s not what you think.”
I shook my head. “Just say it, Harry.”
“I-I drugged you.” To his credit, he looked away from me, his face bearing too much shame for him to meet my cutting stare.
“The gold in the Pepsi,” I stated with a sardonic smile, watching him, trying to stay calm.
“I’m sorry. He said it would make you softer, more agreeable…”
“Softer? More agreeable? So it’s my fault. I was too hard, too difficult. Therefore I deserved to be drugged?” I didn’t want to, but with each word, I could see myself losing it.
I needed to get out of here. Determinedly, I began to sit up again. Ignoring all the ways every part of my body protested against the movement, I stood up, nearly regretting it as my knees wobbled. But I kept moving. With my teeth clenched and my eyes teary, I could feel how ‘agreeable’ I’d been last night. Every sore spot on my body was evidential. My arms trembled by my sides.
I felt violated. I felt naked. I looked into his eyes and saw his unsaid apologies. He knew last night wasn’t me.
Or was it?
I dressed up, ignoring him as he blabbered, profuse with his apologies. His voice receded to a far away corner of my mind as I canceled every noise. I walked past him, found the door. I was ready to walk out of this, whatever this was.
The pain ravaging my body was nothing compared to the battle my mind was fighting. How was I to feel? I hadn’t wanted this, and yet I had done it. I knew I’d been drugged, but was there any part of me that participated in all that debauchery willingly? I remembered the moaned pleas, my want, my burning desire – but were they mine? A drug had taken my decisions away, all of my self-control. It took away my mind. It made me more willing, susceptible. I broke a two-year restraint without hesitation, with much desperation.
I turned the doorknob, and my mind churned as I stepped out into the calm early morning. “Was this all me,” I whispered to myself, blinking back furious tears, “or was I raped?”
Written by Abrams T.