Page 162 of Voices

He pulls off and looks me right in the eye.

“Get on your hands and knees, boy.”

I start whimpering. “Please no, I don't want to.” Hot tears fall in rivulets down my cheeks.

Conrad sneers and grabs my hips, forcing me onto my stomach. With his heavy hand pushing on my back, he straddles my thighs and squeezes my ass cheek. I kick as much as I can with my legs trapped but it doesn’t do anything to get him off me.

He spits on my hole and shoves a finger inside making me cry out in pain.

“Look at this tiny pink hole. It's going to be so tight,” he moans.

I scream as his finger starts to pump in and out. I try to swing my hips from side to side to knock him off me but all it does is anger him. He smacks me hard making my ass light up with white-hot pain.

“Enough of this!”

He shifts around and in the next second, I feel what could only be the scorching hot head of his cock. Realizing what's about to happen, I scream for help. He spreads my ass again, spits and then blinding pain is all I feel.

Conrad leans forward and speaks into my ear.

“That's a good boy. You feel so tight. Be good for me and I won't tell your father how I've seen you look at other boys.”

He starts to move as I scream even louder. When his pelvis hits my ass, it's the last thing I remember as I black out from the pain.

I wake up in my bed later that night. I’m still in the same clothes as earlier.

Maybe I fell asleep, and it was all a nightmare?

I try to get up but the moment I move, all my muscles scream in agony, especially my ass. I roll to my side and cry.

Why me? What did I do?

The next day, I carefully walk into the bathroom and don’t recognize myself in the mirror. There are bruises on my hips,and I can see bright red fingerprints on my ass cheek where he smacked me. And dried blood down my thighs. Swallowing thickly, I zone out as I take a shower on autopilot, get dressed, and slowly make my way to the kitchen.

Conrad is sitting at the table next to my father. His sly look has me feeling sick. I look down and walk past them to the door. But before I can open it, my father’s voice stops me.

“Charles, I know you weren't sick yesterday.”

With my hand on the doorknob, I look over my shoulder as my heart starts to beat wildly.

“Conrad said all you did yesterday was sit around coloring in your little book, being lazy. If you weren’t sick, the least you could’ve done was go outside and be a normal kid. Instead, you were inside doing absolutely nothing productive. I expect more from my son!” His voice rises. “When we return home, all your childish coloring will come to an end! You will start learning about my company so one day you’ll be able to run it.” His face is bright red as his anger flares. “Conrad has already agreed to help so there'll be no excuses.”

All the blood drains from my face as I look into the monster’s victorious eyes. My hands start to shake as I desperately open the door and run.

I run until I can't feel my feet, until my legs give out. I collapse to the ground and start crying.

I’m never going to escape him now.

Conrad finds me curled in a ball on the ground with my head in my hands. I know it's him from the putrid cigarette smell wafting off him. He crouches down and touches my shoulder. I jerk so hard that I almost fall over.

“Now, now. Don't be like that. We're going to be spendinga lotof time together.”

I look up with tears still falling down my cheeks.

“N-Not if I tell my f-father what you d-did.”

He lets out an evil chuckle.

“Do you really think he's going to believe his worthless son who just lied to him? Hmm? I've seen what he does when he's lied to. Heruinspeople's lives!”

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