~by Incubus~
-
~Sometimes,
I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear,
And I can't help but ask myself,
How much I let the fear take the wheel and steer.~
Jack sat in the back of his father's old jeep just trying to breathe. It had been getting harder to do this lately as his will to had been dropping like a kamikaze pilot. Next to him his father was sleeping soundly, pants undone and hanging out with bloodied parts uncensored even in the pitch black. The field they were parked in yielded no light and the moon was clouded over ominously.
He sat up and found his torn pants with shaking hands. His boxers were somewhere near, but shredded and not worth finding. An old oil rag served useful as Jack reached between his small legs and cleaned himself up. He winced with every movement, but managed as best a job as was possible given the circumstances.
Flinging a disgusted look to the man who sat next to him, whom he should be able to call a father, but couldn't bare to even mouth the word to his face anymore, Jack wondered if he had the strength to throttle the man. No, there had to be simpler ways of doing it. The keys were still in the ignition, and he found himself moving towards the driver's seat and turning them. He was only eight, but he could drive as well as any juvenile twice his age. The car moved through the should-high grass like parting the sea, making an unseen path away from the village.
~It's driven me before,
and it seems to have a vague haunting mask appeal.
But lately I'm beginning to find
That I should be the one behind the wheel.~
The old and beaten tan jeep pulled to a stop just before a long drop into a shallow pool. Jack got out and went to the edge; checking and then sitting down to dangle his feet over the edge. He could easily just jam the pedal down with a rock and send his dad on his happy little way to eternity. The thought brought a tiny grin to his face as he thought of what it might be like to go with the vehicle. Just sleeping for a really long time and then you wake up and get to start all over, right? That's what death was to Jack, he didn't believe in God, and God probably didn't believe in him. After all, sodomy was a sin, and he was headed strait for Hell.
The more he looked into the deep crevice, the more it looked like an entrance to the place. If he caught the right angle, his reflection would frown back at him.
A sound behind him brought Jack to his feet and fighting stance immediately. His father had woken up and climbed into the front seat. The headlights flashed up and blinded Jack. He shielded his eyes against it, completely blinded by half-finished eyes. Bright blackness engulfed him in the negative. Damn it, he should've learned to control that by now.
~Whatever tomorrow brings
I'll be there, with open arms and open eyes.
So if I decide to waver my chance to be one of the high,
Will I choose the water over wine,
And hold my own and drive?~
Even though he hadn't a clue how to even begin gaining his bearings, Jack held his arms out in his challenging pose. His eyes were open, pupils dilating and searching for clues. He could hear the engine revving in reply to his challenge, and stood ready to take it on.
To his disappointment, the engine turned off, lights dimming, and he could hear the door open and close. Still disoriented from the drastic change, Jack was left stumbling and grasping for any hint of placement. One of his hands fell upon rough fabric sheathing a warm body. A faint outline came into the picture, but was quickly gone again as a hand came hard across his cheek.
"What the hell did you think you were doing, boy? Trying to sneak up on your old man? That's a pretty steep drop," He pulled Jack to the end of the terra and held him over it. "You weren't about to drive me into in, were you?"
Jack wasn't given the chance to answer, and wasn't expecting to, just shoved back up against the hood, belly down. The hot metal burned his cheek as it was pressed into the surface less than gently. The moon peeked from the clouds to silhouette the hood ornament in a shadowy outline of racing greyhound. His pants were undone again and shoved down to his knees. Jack cursed to himself and made a vow not to space out this time. Maybe he would catch an opening, if he was lucky, and have the chance to get away.
~It's driven me before
And it seems to be the way
That everyone else gets around.
But lately I'm beginning to find
That when I drive my light is found.~
From here the routine was obvious, fuck the kid till he cries uncle, cum, and leave him there to find his own way back. Occasionally he was lucky enough to make it back into the truck. Jack mentally shrugged, and figured it couldn't get much worse if he resisted, maybe being beaten into unconsciousness, but was that really bad?
He waited until the hands left briefly while the other man stripped, then returned to fondle his bare flesh. "Do you have to do this?" He ventured quietly.
All movements paused in shock, and then consideration as he choose his answer. "Yes. You'll never learn your place in life, unless you're shown again and again." He was pushed farther up on the hood until the points of his pelvis were seared red also.
Jack let a hoarse cry free from his lungs, feeling breath warm the other side of his hips. "What are you do...!" He cut himself off as the wet point of a small muscle brushed his entry and pushed further. It was a tongue. Unmistakably, disgustingly, inutility inside of him. He whimpered at the alien feeling, confused as to what reaction he should settle on. Hands gripped his cheeks and spread them, moist violation deepening, nose to his tailbone.
He raked his nails in front of him, trying for purchase and coming empty. It oscillated within his body, reaching and retracting, fucking him with gentle care and staying forever. Then it was gone completely; leaving him chilled and empty. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he hung limply, feeling useless.
Unexpectedly, two strong arms lifted his body and cradled him to the drivers seat. His father sat down first, pulling Jack into his lap and onto his erection. "Drive."
Jack, still trying to recover, wiped his eyes and gripped the wheel. "What?"
A huff of annoyance came from over his shoulder and he was shifted back a bit. His father started the car. "You wanted to drive so badly, so do it. Start by putting it in reverse, though, I'm not done with you yet."
Nodding slightly, Jack gripped the gear change and pressed in the clutch and brake until he could move it out into neutral and back two notches. He depressed the pedal and steered in a small half-circle before shifting back to first and drove into the field. "Are we going home?"
"No, just find the coast and follow that for awhile. I said I wasn't done, didn't I?" To prove what he wasn't done with yet, he parsimoniously thrusted his hips up.
Jack bit his lip and kept his eyes on their path, easily guiding the vehicle along the barren earth with a perfect view of the ocean to the left. It was strangely liberating to be in control of something larger than he was feeling. He found the cruise control, surprised the old car even had one, and pressed it so he could lean back and bounce, supporting his arms on the wheel. A groan of appreciation was shared.
~So whatever tomorrow brings,
I'll be there with open eyes and open arms.
Would you choose the water over wine,
Hold the wheel and drive?~
A dark blue car stopped behind a bus in Deling City and let a person out, handing them something and driving off. Jack smiled and pocketed the money he'd just earned, looking around the part of town he had ended up in. A small food stop was across the street on either side of a gym and a bookstore. He stood in front of discrete little shop with blacked out windows, three red X's stood out from the center of each.
"A naughty video store, perfect."
Jack stepped inside and looked around. No one even gave him more than a once-over and if they gazed longer it was because they were interested, not afraid. He pulled his slit skirt down a little to cover the top edge of his fishnets. What? He looked cute in drag! ...But those damn stilettos were IMPOSSIBLE to walk in, and he'd twisted his ankle more than once, harder than it sounds being as flexible as he was.
One monitor in particular caught his eye and he moved over to watch the video just starting. It was really too dark to tell what was happening in it, until a light came on overhead, and one could see it was a laboratory setting, with a comfortable teal padded chair in the center. In fact, the more Jack looked at the room and the chair, the more familiar it became, and when the light was focused on the reclined chair a figure was revealed.
His own frightened eyes stared back at him from the video screen.
Jack stumbled back, knocking into people who had also gathered to watch, but they caught him by his arms, grinning rudely. He didn't want to see it, any of it, didn't want to know that his father videotaped raping him and sold it.
"A little young to be in here, aren't you?" His screams echoed through the speakers and the clerk speaking to him leered at his face. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know we had a star among the crowd. What are you doing in copies of Odine's Private Collection, little boy?"
Choking back the sudden bile that rose from his throat, he broke away from the man and ran outside to spill it in the empty street. His father had sold the tapes to Dr. Odine? Words could not describe his feeling of hatred and disgust as he vomited again onto the black asphalt. Jack panted and sobbed, resting his weight on his knees, and didn't hear the horn of the car coming over the hill too fast.