Olympia: Planet of Men (Bonus Chapter)

Chapter ?? | Perspective

Eeee Eeee Eeee Eeee!

The high pitched squeal of the cheap digital alarm clock assaulted my ears. 

In my delirious state I reached out and fumbled for the button that would shut it up. 

I rolled over on my twin sized bed, wishing I had more time to sleep. I wanted to slip back into the dream I was having. It started out as a nightmare where I was being chased by the hook wielding killer from ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’. When I ran into the character Ray, aka Freddie Prinze Jr., things took a turn. I had forgotten all about the slashing murderer that pursued me and became entirely focused on this hunk. 

I struggled with accepting this part of myself normally, but in my dreams I lost those inhibitions. In no time I found myself caressing Freddie’s smooth chest and making out with him. I’d never actually kissed anyone but my ex girlfriend, but somehow in my dreams this felt very much appropriate to me. 

It wasn’t long before I was on my knees undoing his jeans and trying to pull out his cock. I could feel excitement building within me, it felt all too real. As soon as I freed his throbbing member I looked up at him.

My stomach lurched. Instead of my celebrity crush, I was looking up at the face of one of my classmates. I felt a horrid mixture of emotions. The most prominent was guilt, but underneath was surprise, and most bizarrely was lust. 

“I- … I-I- …”, I fell backwards and stuttered.

That’s when my alarm rang in my ears. 

I felt conflicted as I recalled my dream. This wasn’t the first time he made an appearance. Admittedly I’ve gotten much further before being interrupted. Each time I’d wake up feeling guilty, but also very much aroused. 

I drug myself out of bed and walked across the room to the bathroom. My bedroom was in the walkout basement of our house. I had a full bathroom to myself. I really appreciated the privacy, since my parents were assholes. There were some days that I never saw them at all. 

In the shower I found myself trying to relive the Freddie dream while stroking my soapy cock. I leaned forward onto the tile and let the warm water pour over me. I could almost remember the way his lips felt against mine, and the way his perfectly chiseled pecs filled my large hands. I thought about how I had shoved a hand down his pants as we flicked our tongues together and gripped his thick meat. 

The fantasies were doing the trick, I felt myself getting close. I added more body wash to my hands and pumped even faster. I imagined how his perfect dick would taste and the climax came. Just as it began I saw his face again. I couldn’t help it. In my moment of orgasm I pictured myself on my knees with Damon’s cock down my throat. 

…

The post nut guilt washed over me. I never really understood why he’d make appearances in my sexual fantasies. He wasn’t the only classmate that would appear, but probably the most common. In school I never found him particularly alluring. He seemed to dislike me, not that I could blame him. The guys who stuck around me were complete assholes, especially to anybody who didn’t fit a particular mold. If I wasn’t athletic I’m sure I’d have been alienated as well. 

It could have been that I was just impressed by him. We were in the same lab group in biology and if it weren’t for him I’d have probably failed it that year. I never had any art classes with him, but Mrs. Brighton would always gush over his work. 

I shook my head as if to try and fling the thoughts from my mind. I needed to finish showering quickly. My parents can hear it running and I don’t want them banging on the basement door demanding I pay the water bill. 

I got ready quickly, threw on some clothes, and ran out the basement door that led to our backyard. Our house was on a hillside and in the morning I was occasionally greeted with some gorgeous views. This morning was no exception. There was a light fog in the small Ozark Mountain valley. It felt like I was standing close to the shore of a wispy white lake. I loved these spring mornings. 

After briefly admiring the view I jumped into my ‘89 Firebird. It was in piss poor shape, but my dad bought it for me before homecoming in my junior year. He insisted that it was “a man’s car” and that it would be a “pussy magnet”. 

In the school parking lot Brett was waiting for me with his girlfriend Alisson. I didn’t really care for him but he considered me a friend and I never bothered to correct it. Alisson was ok, she was pretty smart in her own way, and she seemed to be the only person that could cool Brett’s anger issues. 

Cody, the other tool that insisted on hanging out with me, and Alan were already at the school. We ran into them by their lockers. 

“Hey look, it’s the queers!”, Cody shouted, interrupting Alan who was sharing the highlights of the date he went on the night before. 

I laughed, I always did. 

The sad part is, when I was younger, I did find it funny. That was before I had slowly started to discover my own sexual interests. 

When I laughed then, it came from a dark place. It was a facade I put up when I was in that school. I hated myself for it. 

Damon and Andrew ignored the comment and kept walking. Brett, being an angry brute, decided to shove Andrew as they passed. Again, more laughs from the assholes, and me following suit. 

Damon shot an angry look in our direction while helping Anthony, it did nothing but further amuse my company. I, however, felt a sharp sting, as if he had pierced my chest with a long thin rapier. It was the same guilt I felt this morning, but much more keen. I’m pretty sure the facade cracked a little in that moment. 

“Fuckin’ faggots.”, Cody uttered while laughing.

I’m not sure what it was, but for the rest of the day I couldn’t shake that incident. As much as I tried to hide it, and sometimes deny it, I knew I was gay. I didn’t know anyone else who was. Despite the accusations Cody frequently made, there was no evidence that anyone else at school was. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was projecting a little. 

I spent a lot of the day distracted, and thinking about my future. I wondered if I’d force myself to marry some girl and stay in the south, or if I would find some way to move somewhere more accepting. Travis, my dad, would probably kick my ass if I did. 

I’d been told by my coach I’d probably be given a scholarship to play football for one of Arkansas’s smaller universities. The city it’s in wasn’t the most open minded, and as good as I was at playing, I didn’t really enjoy it. The thought of spending the next four years busting ass to prove I deserve the scholarship money was disheartening. 

After baseball practice I took the long way home. I didn’t like spending much time there. The sun had already set but you could see the faint orange glow over the hills in the distance. Half the sky was a brilliant purple with feathery pink clouds. The other half was already lightly dusted with stars. It was one of my favorite parts about living in such a rural area. Sometimes, at night, I’d sit on the small concrete porch connected to my bedroom door and stare out at the cosmos. 

Unfortunately, tonight wasn’t gonna be one of those nights. As I pulled up the gravel driveway to our house I could hear a George Strait song coming from inside. This meant that my parents were drinking, again.

My dad was ex-military. He was dishonorably discharged for selling meth at the base he was stationed at. He’s found Jesus since then, but that doesn’t stop him from going on frequent alcohol induced benders.

I usually turn my headlights off so they wouldn’t notice me getting home. It wouldn’t have mattered this time. Patty, my mom, was already on the porch. I could see the pinpoint orange glowing embers from her lit cigarette.

When she noticed me she popped her head in through the cracked screen door, I assumed to notify my dad.

Sure enough, seconds later he came bounding out of the house. He seemed to be in a good mood, which gave me momentary relief. Maybe tonight was gonna be one of the nights where he was a happy drunk. 

“Therrrrrre’s ma boooeeehhhh!”, he hollered sloppily, spreading his arms in the air in a show machismo.

“Wooooo!!!!”, he continued once I stepped out of my car. 

“What’s going’ on?”, I asked as I walked up toward the porch. 

“Youuu got s’m mail t’day while you wuz at school.”, he grinned and poked my chest. 

“Oh yea?”, I laughed nervously, I knew where this was going. I pretended to be ignorant.

“From Tech.”, he added, putting a little extra emphasis on the last word. 

“You opened it already?”, I asked, trying not to sound annoyed at the invasion of privacy.

“We couldn’t help ourselves, sorry hun.”, mom answered with a mixture of guilt and giddiness.

She usually meant well, but she was spineless when it came to parenting. 

“Ahh, he’ll git over it, won’t ya boy? Come on, les git you uh cold beer.”, dad draped his arm over my neck and pulled me in tight. Travis was always overly aggressive, so gestures like this, in which any normal parent would use restraint, were painful. I could feel intense pressure in my eyes and head as he squeezed my neck.

Thankfully he let go rather quickly.

“I dunno man, I’m pretty beat from practice. It’s also Monday.”, I protested with a fake grin while rubbing my neck.

“I don’t wunna hear excuses, we’re celebratin’”

Mom just smiled and shook her head in agreement. 

“Your dad grilled some burgers, you hungry?”, she asked. 

I figured there was no use protesting. I joined them in the kitchen where they had set up the food. Dad shoved a can of beer onto my chest and popped the tab on one of his own. He proceeded to tap it against my unopened can and toast “to football!”. 

I followed suit.

Nights like this were usually good nights. They were difficult to stomach, but I would always try to stay civil. When dad’s a happy drunk he wouldn’t get physical. On nights where he was depressed, which were far more common, he would lash out at anyone. I was his favorite target for some reason. 

If I wasn’t around he’d get into screaming matches with mom. I’d feel bad for her if she didn’t completely enable his abusive habits. 

“You know how yer daddy gets when he’s drinking’”

“If you didn’t run your mouth at him like that, he wouldn’t get so angry.”

She never stood up for me. 

“Running my mouth”, was me defending my baseball coach’s decision to move me from pitching to shortstop. 

Dinner was uneventful enough, my dad badgered me with questions about the scholarship. When I was gonna accept, if I was excited about all the college girls, what position I saw myself in.

“They’re dumb as a box of rocks if they don’t make you qb…”, he declared between gulps of his cheap ass beer. 

“Do ya know what’cher gonna major in, hun?”, my mom interjected.

“Dunno yet, I was thinkin’ mechanical engineering? Seems kinda cool, robots ‘n’ stuff.”

“Engineering?”, Travis jeered. “You can’t do that. You gotta focus on the game! Do sumthin’ easy like business er sum shit.”

I probably should’ve just let his comment slide but after the self-reflection I did that day… I couldn’t help myself.

“I wanna focus on getting a good degree man, I don’t really care about football”

The night might’ve gone differently had I not added that last part. It wasn’t the first time I said it. 

“Got-damnit son! … ”, he slammed his beer down. “Why you gotta be like this? Football’s always been yer thang…”

“Trav-“, mom muttered softly.

“What?! He’s always fuckin’ like this! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slackin’ off… you coulda been a Razorback! …”

I stared at my half empty beer. I had lit the fuse. 

“Since when did you stop caring? You turnin’ into some sorta queer?!”

I didn’t say a word. I just kept staring at the label on the can in my hand, gripping it tighter.

“ANSWER ME! …. you a fucking faggot?!”, he stood up.

That word. I heard it so much at school. It was pretty much every asshole’s favorite insult. If you’re not some masculine pussy obsessed macho man hyped up on testosterone, you’re a faggot. I fucking hated that word. Travis was the only person to ever use it on me, it felt like he could see right through me. 

It happened so fast.

The day’s events culminated in one swift emotional outburst on my part. 

“Yes! …fuck”, I clenched both hands as I muttered through gritted teeth. Without intending it, the remaining beer spilled out onto me and the table. 

The foamy liquid leaking onto my hand distracted me for a split second, but I was suddenly torn away as a flying fist made contact with my right cheek bone and pressed hard into my eye. 

My vision flashed white then black and more pain as the back of my head hit the tile floor. 

Before I could recover, Travis was standing over me.

“Git out… git the fuck outta my house.”, he was trembling with anger. 

I looked over at my mother.

She wasn’t looking at me.

She had a hand over her mouth and her eyes tightly shut. She was fighting back tears. 

I scrambled backwards and got to my feet. 

“I mean it…”, he continued. His voice cracking a little.

I said nothing. I just turned and went straight down to my room. 

My mind was swimming. I had no idea what to do. 

I grabbed my gym bag and stuffed it with clean clothes. I grabbed my backpack and my car keys. I couldn’t think of anywhere to go until I stepped out and slammed the back door. I could see our shed where we stored a bunch of junk. I threw open the door and grabbed the camping tent and supplies I kept in it.

After I piled everything into my car, I peeled out of the driveway and headed straight for my favorite camping spot nearby. I wasn’t about to head to one of my “friends’” houses. I just knew I wanted to be away from everyone. 

I set up the tent and laid down inside with my head near the opening. 

After what had just happened, this was my happy place. Staring up at the canopy of stars briefly set my mind at ease. 

I imagined how great it would be to be out there, away from all the bullshit I was surrounded by. 

I had no idea what I was gonna do. I wasn’t sure if I was even gonna show my face at school the next day. I couldn’t see Travis telling anyone else what I said. My mother might end up spreading the rumor. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was on the phone right then with some church pastor. 

I tried to clear my mind of the concern and think of nothing while staring into the starlit abyss. As I laid there slowly drifting to sleep I couldn’t help but think about Damon.

I thought of the dream I had this morning…

And fell into a new one.

I was at our school’s football stadium, standing in the center of the field alone.

The stands were full of people. It felt like an actual game with people and cheerleaders cheering and our school band playing our fight song. 

Initially I felt good, I liked the attention to be honest. 

That feeling was snuffed out when my dad’s voice echoed through the PA system. 

“Are you a fucking faggot?!”

My heart sank.

Everyone in the stadium started laughing. I heard Cody’s raspy voice screaming, “queer!”

“Fudge packer!”

I felt my world crumbling. 

I hung my head and closed my eyes to try and shut it out, but immediately felt a tug on my shoulder.

My eyes shot open and I looked up to see Damon pulling at me and turning me around. 

He put an arm across my back and led me away from the crowd. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him shoot a glare back in their direction. The same glare he gave me earlier that day. 

When he turned to look back at me it hadn’t faded. He still wore the same look of resentment, but also seemed to be shielding me from the bombardment of insults. 

I felt my insides shriveling, but I continued walking. We never said a word to one another. 

As we walked, the lights around the stadium got brighter. The sound of the crowd became more and more muffled.

When the light became too bright to see, Damon seemed to disappear entirely. The sounds died out entirely and I was suddenly laying down in a silent, blinding white void.

I became totally aware that I was in a dream. 

I felt momentary relief that what I had just seen wasn’t real. 

As calmness set it, my vision started to adjust. I realized I was laying in my tent, but it was all entirely white. It seemed like every surface was glowing. 

While laying there taking in my surroundings, I felt something. 

It was like an invisible pull, but it wasn’t physical. It was like another presence in my mind, something that wasn’t me. They were beckoning me. Without saying anything, it felt like they were asking me to step outside.

I didn’t really hesitate. I sat up, crawled out of the tent, and stood up.

Looking around me I saw the entire forest around me. The small creek trickling gently next to my campsite. The major difference being that it was all glowing white. 

The other presence asked another wordless question. It seemed to be asking me if I wanted to stay. What it meant didn’t need clarification. I could feel it’s intention. 

‘Do you have any desire to stay here, and live this life?’

I didn’t… I wanted to be anywhere but here. 

It was a surprisingly easy choice. 

As soon as I made it, I blinked. When I opened my eyes everything around me was gone. I was in a pure glowing white void. 

It lasted only a few seconds before I felt my vision fading. 

As the darkened tunnels in my vision expanded I felt something strange. Like every single cell in my body was locked in place. I couldn’t even feel a hair move. If I hadn’t immediately lost consciousness, I would’ve certainly panicked.

When I woke up I saw the familiar blinding whiteness. 

“Mornin’ there”, an inviting male voice greeted me.

My eyes adjusted, I was laying on a strange bed in a bright marble clad room. 

The man who greeted me was a scruffy curly haired man. To my complete surprised, and frankly pleasure, he was completely fucking naked.