Creation of a Deviant
One
July, 2014
More than twenty-five years later, Ashley was still haunted by memories of that babysitter borne of pure evil. He’d never actually told anyone what Misty did to him, just that he didn’t like being babysat by her. It wasn’t until one summer’s eve about a year and a-half after the untimely deaths of a his parents in a car accident that everything came to light.
His grandparents had come home early from a date night of their own to a dead silent house. Worried about him since they knew he was still grieving for his parents, Daniel and Leana Crosswhite searched the house from top to bottom. When his grandmother found him beneath the nineteen-year-old woman, both were nude and her hand was clamped tightly over his mouth. By the way his ever-expressive eyes glistened with unshed tears, Leana had known he didn’t want what was being done to him, that he’d been suffering this humiliating torture for years.
Daniel was called in to pull her off his then-small erection, which he’d promptly covered with his sheet. His grama hugged and tried to comfort him while his grampa dragged Misty downstairs, where he didn’t let her out of his sight while calling the cops. Ashley’d sobbed loudly as he clung to his grama, despite the continued throbbing of his loins as his body begged for relief, glad his silent torture was over. Never again did he want to see the woman who’d wronged and abused him for five long years, and thankfully, after his tearful testimony at her trial that put her away for many years, he didn’t have to.
But even now, at the age of thirty, there were still lingering effects. He drank way too much for a man who seemingly had it all, easily enough to inebriate three or four grown men, on a nightly basis. He refused to let women dominate him, preferring instead to be the dominate party between the sheets. And Ashley damn sure wouldn’t go near a ginger, the soul-less bitches, especially if they had emerald-green eyes.
In fact, despite how much he obviously loved sex now that he was older, he’d actually tuck tail and run from a ginger…especially a green-eyed one.
“Yo, Ash! Ready to go party and get laid?”
Startled from the thoughts he never meant to lapse into, he looked up to see the drummer of the band he’d joined, CC. “Oh, Hell yeah! I could use more than a few shots and a one-night stand right about now!”
“Then what’re ya waiting for?” the hyper man asked him. “Quit playing with your dick and c’mon, Purdy Boy!”
Laughing at his friend’s insanity, Ash hoisted himself off the couch. “I’m coming, I’m coming, Coma!”
“Maybe not right now, but you will be before the night’s over!” CC responded.
* * *
Sure enough, by sunrise, he was drunker than ten thousand Indians and thoroughly satisfied. His crotch might be sore, especially his now raw cock, and he might have a killer hangover tomorrow, but he didn’t care. Forgetting everything that’d ever bothered him and dominating four different women in one night always made it worth it.
By the time he and CC got back to his apartment, he was a giggling, exhausted mess. It was almost like he’d had a few too many drinks, then took a few hits off a bowl, too. Then again, considering how many times he’d gotten his rocks off over the course of the night, it was no wonder he was seemingly sky-high. The amount of alcohol he’d consumed kept the natural high of orgasm from wearing off as fast as it usually did. That was why he was leaning so heavily on his partner in crime, both of them knowing that if he didn’t, he’d be sprawled out on the ground, kissing the concrete.
Thankfully, the drummer hadn’t gotten nearly as drunk since he knew this would happen from partying with him many a time over the past few years. He gladly took his friend’s keys, smiling as he let the giggling mess of a man lean against him as he unlocked his front door. Whenever he wasn’t horny and banging any chick who’d let him, Ash was incredibly giggly and, at times, a bit clingy. Although no one but his grandparents knew what’d happened to him as a child, everyone thought his cuddly side was cute.
Once inside the apartment, the slightly younger man kicked the door shut and locked it while still supporting his friend and laying his keys on an end table just inside it. They made it only halfway to the bassist’s room when he felt him go limp against him. Knowing he was either drifting in and out of consciousness or completely out for the night, CC gently picked him up bridal-style. Due to working out combined with the fervor he pounded his kit, not to mention his friend being fairly light, he had little trouble getting him to his room. In all honesty, he had more trouble trying to get him to let go so he could settle him into bed, a fight he ultimately lost to the living teddy bear.
“D-Daddy,” the bassist whimpered, sounding scared as tears welled in his eyes.
“Shhh, Ash,” he said, still trying to free himself. “It’s time for bed.”
“D-Don’t leave me, D-Daddy!” Ash begged, now openly crying as he tightened his grip. “N-No wanna be w-watched by M-Misty!”
“Okay, okay…just calm down, Ash.” Sensing his friend’s distress, CC hugged him close as he clung tightly, wondering just how drunk he actually was.
“N-No want D-Daddy t-to leave me w-with M-Misty…no like wh-when sh-she touches…t-touches m-my privates.”
Having no idea if that was drunken chatter or not, the drummer held his friend tighter as he soothed him into a deep sleep.
More than twenty-five years later, Ashley was still haunted by memories of that babysitter borne of pure evil. He’d never actually told anyone what Misty did to him, just that he didn’t like being babysat by her. It wasn’t until one summer’s eve about a year and a-half after the untimely deaths of a his parents in a car accident that everything came to light.
His grandparents had come home early from a date night of their own to a dead silent house. Worried about him since they knew he was still grieving for his parents, Daniel and Leana Crosswhite searched the house from top to bottom. When his grandmother found him beneath the nineteen-year-old woman, both were nude and her hand was clamped tightly over his mouth. By the way his ever-expressive eyes glistened with unshed tears, Leana had known he didn’t want what was being done to him, that he’d been suffering this humiliating torture for years.
Daniel was called in to pull her off his then-small erection, which he’d promptly covered with his sheet. His grama hugged and tried to comfort him while his grampa dragged Misty downstairs, where he didn’t let her out of his sight while calling the cops. Ashley’d sobbed loudly as he clung to his grama, despite the continued throbbing of his loins as his body begged for relief, glad his silent torture was over. Never again did he want to see the woman who’d wronged and abused him for five long years, and thankfully, after his tearful testimony at her trial that put her away for many years, he didn’t have to.
But even now, at the age of thirty, there were still lingering effects. He drank way too much for a man who seemingly had it all, easily enough to inebriate three or four grown men, on a nightly basis. He refused to let women dominate him, preferring instead to be the dominate party between the sheets. And Ashley damn sure wouldn’t go near a ginger, the soul-less bitches, especially if they had emerald-green eyes.
In fact, despite how much he obviously loved sex now that he was older, he’d actually tuck tail and run from a ginger…especially a green-eyed one.
“Yo, Ash! Ready to go party and get laid?”
Startled from the thoughts he never meant to lapse into, he looked up to see the drummer of the band he’d joined, CC. “Oh, Hell yeah! I could use more than a few shots and a one-night stand right about now!”
“Then what’re ya waiting for?” the hyper man asked him. “Quit playing with your dick and c’mon, Purdy Boy!”
Laughing at his friend’s insanity, Ash hoisted himself off the couch. “I’m coming, I’m coming, Coma!”
“Maybe not right now, but you will be before the night’s over!” CC responded.
* * *
Sure enough, by sunrise, he was drunker than ten thousand Indians and thoroughly satisfied. His crotch might be sore, especially his now raw cock, and he might have a killer hangover tomorrow, but he didn’t care. Forgetting everything that’d ever bothered him and dominating four different women in one night always made it worth it.
By the time he and CC got back to his apartment, he was a giggling, exhausted mess. It was almost like he’d had a few too many drinks, then took a few hits off a bowl, too. Then again, considering how many times he’d gotten his rocks off over the course of the night, it was no wonder he was seemingly sky-high. The amount of alcohol he’d consumed kept the natural high of orgasm from wearing off as fast as it usually did. That was why he was leaning so heavily on his partner in crime, both of them knowing that if he didn’t, he’d be sprawled out on the ground, kissing the concrete.
Thankfully, the drummer hadn’t gotten nearly as drunk since he knew this would happen from partying with him many a time over the past few years. He gladly took his friend’s keys, smiling as he let the giggling mess of a man lean against him as he unlocked his front door. Whenever he wasn’t horny and banging any chick who’d let him, Ash was incredibly giggly and, at times, a bit clingy. Although no one but his grandparents knew what’d happened to him as a child, everyone thought his cuddly side was cute.
Once inside the apartment, the slightly younger man kicked the door shut and locked it while still supporting his friend and laying his keys on an end table just inside it. They made it only halfway to the bassist’s room when he felt him go limp against him. Knowing he was either drifting in and out of consciousness or completely out for the night, CC gently picked him up bridal-style. Due to working out combined with the fervor he pounded his kit, not to mention his friend being fairly light, he had little trouble getting him to his room. In all honesty, he had more trouble trying to get him to let go so he could settle him into bed, a fight he ultimately lost to the living teddy bear.
“D-Daddy,” the bassist whimpered, sounding scared as tears welled in his eyes.
“Shhh, Ash,” he said, still trying to free himself. “It’s time for bed.”
“D-Don’t leave me, D-Daddy!” Ash begged, now openly crying as he tightened his grip. “N-No wanna be w-watched by M-Misty!”
“Okay, okay…just calm down, Ash.” Sensing his friend’s distress, CC hugged him close as he clung tightly, wondering just how drunk he actually was.
“N-No want D-Daddy t-to leave me w-with M-Misty…no like wh-when sh-she touches…t-touches m-my privates.”
Having no idea if that was drunken chatter or not, the drummer held his friend tighter as he soothed him into a deep sleep.
@ThatBVBFan
The unexpected, or rather...expected, in my world, is what keeps the readers coming back for more because they read one part which may or may not be kinda boring... Then the next thing they know, the next update is an unholy unprotected mind-fuck straight from Hell, and they're screaming in their heads or devices of choice, "Unholy shit! I've gotta find out what happens next!"
As for being polite about something, you don't have to make that request of me, sugar. Trust me, unless you say or do something to piss me off, even if I don't like any stories you write, I'm not gonna be overly mean about it. Anything I say might be a bit mean (and have the potential to be held against me...LOL!), but it's generally not intended as such. Case in point...some of the earliest comments on my story Dark Magick. That's really the best example that I can give ya.
~Cyn
9/6/15