(Note: I’m reposting the beginning of Chapter 3. I added a couple paragraphs at the beginning to keep the mirrored structure of this arc going. It isn’t deja vu, I swear, and the words aren’t double counted, for those keeping score.)
Chapter 3
It was wider than when he’d started–Scuzz was certain of that, but for all of his work, over these hours and days, and all he had to show for it was a crack barely wide enough to slip his fingers into. Still, it was progress. He wondered how long he had been at this, attacking the wall in his mind with whatever his mind could conjure for him to destroy it with–explosives, pickaxes, cranes, anything and everything, and yet nothing–he would never manage to break it down at this rate–there simply had to be a better way. He stuck his nose to the crack, inhaling the scent of pine trees which haunted him now. It was so familiar, but why was that? He’d lived in the city his whole life, hadn’t he? Sure, he’d gone camping a few times before, with Brute and the thralls, but this was different. He’d lived here–he was certain of that now. This was a smell of home. He inhaled again, and held it, when a memory him him suddenly, out of the blue, nearly hard enough for him to stumble backwards away from the wall.
A cave–he could remember a cave, sleeping on a flat slab, eating fish–fish from a stream, and silence, and alone, and regret and fear–terror at himself, and that was it–but it was his, and he clung to it like a thief to a purse. A moment later, there was a loud crack–and he watched the wall splinter apart, the crack he’d made widening to the size of his fist. He rushed forward–light–he could see light! There was something, maybe a whole world on the other side, but then the light was blotted out, there was the glint of a fang, a red, bloodshot eye, and then light again. The stranger, the whisperer–Scuzz had many names for his companion, the prisoner on the other side of the wall. He hadn’t given much thought really to who or what he might be, but now…now there was a tremor of fear, from that single glimpse. Still, he didn’t have a choice. He needed in–and whatever that meant letting out, it was worth it. It was worth knowing, what had been locked away from him, and if what was in there could help his master–if it could give Scuzz a chance to feel that wonderful pleasure again–then he would do anything.
***
Scuzz sat at the counter in Bear Boutique, flipping through the latest issue of Cubby Magazine which had arrived in that morning’s shipment, massaging his cock through his grimy jeans as he flipped through the photo shoot of the Boars, the champions of the high school football championships this year, posing naked with their coach. It really was no wonder they’d come out on top–apparently their musk was so powerful, half of the players they faced fainted right on the spot, leaving themselves opened for quite the fuck. He glanced around, flipped to the centerfold of the team’s captain showing off his ripe pits and thick cock, Scuzz licking his lips and figuring a quick wank couldn’t hurt. Toilet would love to suck down his load of course, but Scuzz had been feeling kind of…irritable of late. He was tired all the time, and he just couldn’t stop eating for the life of him. Hibernation was coming early to him apparently, because Brute, Beast and Toilet didn’t seem that close to turning in for the winter. Still, from the lack of traffic, it didn’t look like business would be picking up much until springtime.
He checked the clock–still an hour until he could close up shop and go to bed early–again. He was just so ready to sleep this coming winter away, and from the chill in his bones, he could tell it was going to be a cold one. He was glad he had Brute and their thralls to cozy up to in the coming months, he’d always hated hibernating alone…though he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been alone. It was the wall again, always that damn wall. He’d hoped that he’d stop caring what was on the other side at some point, but it was always there, holding his mind at bay, taunting him with…well, something, not that he could remember what it was.
He was about to pull out his cock when he heard to door chime of someone walking into the store, and grumbling, he put down the magazine to see who was coming in. To his surprise, it was a face he recognized, and not one he’d been expecting. He’d only met the man a few times, when he’d come by the shop to demo a few of the products he’d invented which were now stocking the store’s shelves. Apparently, according to Tristan, he was quite the genius when it came to psychological manipulation. What was his name again? Scuzz couldn’t remember–he’d never really been one for names. Hell, he was sometimes glad he only had one himself. “Well, I wasn’t expecting you today. Come by to drop of another one of your inventions for us to sell?”
The professor looked up over at Scuzz and smiled, “No, I’m afraid today is a personal visit–not a business one.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot your name, what was it again?”
“You can just call me Erikson, or Professor Erikson, if you’d like.”
Fat chance, Scuzz thought, smirking at the thought of him calling anyone professor. Scuzz was a graduate of the school of hard knocks, as he liked to say–he didn’t have much patience for anyone he considered high minded, and Erikson sure fit that bill, as far as he was concerned, though the bear was certainly impressively dressed. The leather dress shirt was amazingly tailored, as were his pants, and while he was definitely too clean for Scuzz’s liking, he could definitely appreciate the older man’s physique. “Alright then Erikson, what can I help you with? Looking to purchase something in particular?”
“No, I’m not looking to buy. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about a few things.”
Scuzz looked at him, puzzled. “What would that be?”
“I’d like to ask you about Tristan Newbeary–what do you know about him?”
“Not very much. He’s just the shop’s owner and investor–he’s not really concerned with our day-to-day operations as long as we’re making money–and we’re not having any trouble with that.”
“It was a smart idea, sending out those samples.”
“Ha, Tristan wasn’t too fond of it, but I figured it would work.”
“Look, Scuzz, right?” Erikson said, coming close, “I’m just going to be honest with you. I know, that you know something about Tristan. Something I need to know, and I’m going to get it out of you one way or another, do you understand?”
“Well, I’d be happy to tell you what you need to know, but I don’t know what you need to know, so I can’t help you.”
Erikson stared Scuzz down for a moment, neither man flinching, before he said, “Alright, let me back up a bit. Here’s why, I think you know something about Tristan Newbeary–it’s because neither of you seem to have any record of actually existing.”
“Well I’m here, aren’t I?”
Erikson rolled his eyes, “Well, naturally, but that’s not quite what I mean. What I mean, is that both of you seem to have popped into existence here a few months ago, in the sense that there’s no record of either one of you prior to then. So, that means one of a few things might be true. Either you’ve both been living off the grid from birth, until a few months ago, or you both appeared out of thin air, and considering some of the things I’ve seen of late, I’m betting on the second. So quit with the dumb act–we both know you’re much smarter than you let on. Where in the fuck did the two of you come from, and what the hell are you?”
“I’m just a man like you.”
“Don’t fucking lie to me–I’ll get the truth out of you one way or another.”
“I’m telling you the truth. If you don’t believe me, ask Brute–the two of us have been mates for years now–and as for not having a fucking history, who don’t you just check the fucking criminal records? I can sure as hell tell you I have a few records there.”
Again, Erikson backed off, and Scuzz could tell that this wasn’t how he’d thought this conversation was going to go. After a moment, Erikson spoke again, “Alright, fine. I suppose this only leaves three options. Either you really are human, which could be true, but doubtful, or you’re lying to me very skillfully, or you actually don’t know. How about we find out which one is which?” Before Scuzz could dodge out of the way, erikson had slapped a strange patch onto the side of his head, and a second later, he felt a painful jolt of electricity shoot through his temple and dig it’s way into his mind, making him wince and cry out in pain. “Oh be quiet, and don’t fucking call for your friends.”
Scuzz’s mouth immediately shut itself, and Scuzz reached for the patch to rip it off, but his finger’s couldn’t get a grip on it. In fact, it almost felt as though it were melting into his skin. “Oh don’t worry, the neurocircuitry is already planting itself into your dermis–it won’t be coming off anytime soon. But you don’t actually want it to come off–you want to keep it on, and keep it on there. Keeping that patch there keeps you under my control, and being under my control feels so good, you don’t want that feeling to go away, do you?”
It did–It did feel good. It felt so good to be under Erikson’s control. Scuzz tried to fight it, but even his alpha mind was no match for Erikson’s technology. “No…No, I don’t.”
“Now, be polite. I like all of my students to refer to me by my title. You’re my student for the moment, and there’s a lesson I need you to remember, and you do want to make your professor happy don’t you?”
“Yes professor, what lesson?” Scuzz said, his mind happily accepting the scenario. Scuzz so wanted the professor to be happy, he’d do anything for him.
“I want you to tell me about Tristan Newbeary, about what he is, about where his power comes from, and where you both came from, and why he needs you. Tell me all of that, and I’ll be the happiest professor in the world.”
Scuzz wracked his mind, looking for an answer–and every time, he ran into that wall. The answers–all of them–were on the other side, but he couldn’t reach them, and everytime he tried, he was thrown back. “I…I know, but I can’t remember. I’m sorry Professor, I don’t know.”
“Hmm…well, there’s nothing that can jog the memory like a bit of pain, right?”
Had Professor Erikson not already told him to stay quiet, Scuzz would have screamed, and screamed louder than ever before in his life. The pain, it was everywhere–his skin ripping, his bones aching, his lungs choking off, stomach aflame with acid, and he threw himself at the wall, he threw himself at it, beating on it, desperate to get across it, to the truth, so the pain would end, so his Professor would be happy with him and end the pain, but he couldn’t beat it, it was too high, and too thick, and only when he was a blubbering mess, crumpled on the floor of the shop, did Erikson end it.
“Hmmm…” Erikson said, looking down at the defeated alpha with no emotion at all. “This is not what I was hoping for. Well, I suppose there’s one other way of finding out what you are, but I’m going to need a sample.”
“What…Professor, why are you doing this?”
“Oh hush–pain is good for the soul, don’t you know that? You just stay right there for a moment while I get things ready for you, alright?”
Scuzz couldn’t do anything but obey at this point, but now that the initial shock was over, he found that his mind could worm its way around the implant a bit, at least giving him a space to wedge in a clear thought or two. This fucker was obviously deranged, but with complete control over his body, there was nothing Scuzz could do about it. Even if he called for help no one would hear him. Brute and Beast were out back handling the latest shipment, Toilet was chained up in the bathroom, not that he would have been much help if he weren’t. There had to be someway out of this–there had to. Why was this guy so interested in him? Sure, he was an alpha, but he was no one special, but a nasty ass biker bear with a thing for filth, and of course he’d “existed” for more than a few months. He could remember back farther than that, couldn’t he? I mean, it had taken some time for him to remember everything in his past…and there were some times, just a few, where, well, the memories he had just didn’t seem real. Still, they were the only ones he had, how could they be wrong? If they were wrong, then where were his real ones?
The wall, that damn wall in his fucking head, he could tell everything was back there, everything he needed to know but there was no way in. He saw that Erikson had pulled some equipment out of a small bag he’d brought in with him, and now he came over to Scuzz carrying it. “Take off your pants and take out your cock–I don’t want to touch them.”
Blushing a bit, Scuzz did as he was told, hauling out his thick, ripe cock, and with a sneer, the professor slipped a plastic sleeve over the entire shaft, planting it at the base, and then hit a button. Immediately, Scuzz felt the sleeve contract and begin milking him in strokes more powerful than any blowjob he’d ever received, and he let out a gasp, his cock immediately leaking cum into a tube connected to a sleeve, where it was deposited into a massive jar. “Yeah, don’t worry, I bet you’ll be able to fill that whole thing by the time I’m through with you. Now, that’s gonna take a few minutes, and I love seeing big, tough alphas on their knees. Beg, pig. Beg for the privilege to suck your professor’s cock.
The circuitry told him to do it, but the alpha in him was standing stronger now, his hormones and domineering side pushing back against Erikson’s technology. “No–No, I won’t. I’m not going to play this sick, twisted bullshit game with you!” he snarled.
“Well, the alpha has some bite in him after all. Fine, you don’t have to suck me off. I’ll just go find that little thrall of yours and make him do it–and then I’ll slit his throat and leave his bloody corpse there for you to mop up, how does that sound?” Erikson said, drawing a sleek knife which reflected his smile into Scuzz’s face. “But I mean, it’s just a thrall, right? I mean, there are millions of guys who I suppose would eventually love to be your toilet, what’s the harm in there being one less filthy fuck on the planet, eh? And, I do so love the sound of a good scream…”
“Fine,” Scuzz spat out, “I’ll suck your cock, I’ll…oh, fuck…” he said with a shudder, and another load shot from his milked cock into the jar. He may have found a way to resist the commands of the professor, but obeying them still felt–amazing. So good that it almost hurt in the most beautiful way.
“Well, go on then, beg. Beg like a little bitch.”
“Please…please let me suck your cock, professor,” Scuzz said, shuddering and shivering in pleasure, “Fuck my face sir, shoot your load across my face like I’m your fucking whore.” Scuzz couldn’t help himself, that pleasure, it was stronger than any drug he’d ever had, and he wanted more, he wanted to feel that good again, he wanted to feel like that forever and always, and if Professor Erikson could give that to him, it just might be worth it.
“I’m really not a fan of positive reinforcement,” Erikson said, “But I can’t deny that it get’s results. Alright, suck my cock, bitch,” he said, pulling out his cock, and Scuzz raced to obey, his hands shaking as he undid the professor’s fly and hauled out his cock, unable to get it in his cock fast enough for his own liking, but when he did, it came back, even stronger this time, and it did hurt, it felt like the pleasure was going to rip apart his very soul, but he wanted it that way, he wanted it, and Erikson could give it to him. He didn’t care anymore, about resisting, about the wall, he’d do whatever this man wanted. He would walk off a cliff for him, if it meant he could feel like this on the way down, to his death. Orgasm after orgasm rocked its way through his body and out his cock, the jar steadily filling, his balls aching as they drained themselves for his master. Scuzz was hopeful he would earn the privilege of having his master cum down his throat, but Erikson’s eyes were on the jar, and when it was full, he pulled his cock from between Scuzz’s lips and zipped up, leaving the alpha whimpering and aching in need.
“Alright bitch, that’s all I need from you.”
“No, please, let me do something else for you, please, I need–I need it, I need it so bad, just something, anything,” Scuzz said, crawling after him, drained and exhausted beyond measure.
“Well I don’t need you for anything, if you won’t tell me what I need to know.”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t I swear, I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything about Tristan, or myself other than my memories, and I’m as human as you are, I swear.”
“Ha, well, we’ll see about that,” Erikson said, swilling the cum in his jar, “Pity someone wiped your memory. Still, if you want more, if you ever want to feel like this again, well, just remember where your loyalties lie. Tristan has done nothing but lie to you, I assure you. There is a sea change coming, new powers are rising–it’s time for men to take the reins of our own destiny, and if you’re a good pig, I might let you live at my feet in my new world, how does that sound?” Erikson laughed, and left the store, not even looking back, and Scuzz knew he should fight back, that he was better than this, but the image of himself, kneeling at that man’s feet…the pleasure shuddered through him, much weaker, but still there. His cock would have kept leaking, but there was nothing left for him to cum. He collapsed to the carpet, exhausted, feeling the sleep of hibernation start to overtake him. Good, it was time. Better to sleep than to live without his master’s pleasure surging through him.
Distantly, he could sense Beast and Brute discovering him at closing time, both of them heaving him up and carrying him to the bed where they tucked him in for a long winter nap, but Scuzz wasn’t there–he was at the wall. The wall–Professor Erikson needed whatever was on the other side, and he would get to it, he would beat this damn thing if it was the last thing he did. He came close in the dreamspace, running his hands across the perfectly smooth and even surface, without a hint of an imperfection. What was in there? What was being kept from him, and who was keeping it there. Tristan–that Tristan, could it be him? Could he have done this to him? Erikson seemed to think that they were connected, but he had no clue how they could be. He pounded on the surface with all of his strength, but he had no idea how to get past it. The wall was insurmountably high, and stretched on to infinity in every direction, but still, he had to try, for his master’s sake.
He set off to the left, figuring neither direction mattered, checking the surface for any sign of weakness. He walked for what might have been hours or days, and he was about to give up when he saw something–a crack. A hairline fracture, really, he would have never noticed it had he not been running his fingers along the surface. He put his face to the crack–pine trees–he could smell the scent of pine. What did that mean? Could his master use it? Would it be enough?
He started pounding and hammering at the crack with his hands, desperate to get through, now that there was a glimmer of hope for him, screaming and shouting at the barrier, so loud he didn’t hear the faint voice until he’d fallen to his knees, exhausted. It wasn’t much, barely a whisper, like the hint of pine in the air. “That isn’t going to work,” the hint of a breath said.
“Who’s there, who are you?” Scuzz shouted into the crack.
A chuckle, barely distinguishable, but the person was laughing at him. “My how I’ve fallen, so much for all my grand ideals, I suppose. How stupid.”
“Answer me, who are you? How can I get in there?”
“Get in? Ha, you think this wall was made to keep you out? Idiot, this wall was designed to keep me in. That patch your…‘Master’ stuck on you blew this crack in the wall, but unless you’re far thinner than I expect you to be, I don’t think either of us will be crossing over anytime soon.”
“No, I have to get in there, I have to know what’s in there. Tell me, tell me what’s there, what is it?”
“Just memories…some regret and mistakes. I doubt that master of yours would be very interested in any of it. Besides, if you get in, that means that I will be getting out–are you sure you want that? Don’t you think I might be locked away in here for a reason? Ah, but you’ve probably already made up your mind. Well scratch away, my friend, scratch away–let’s see how far you can get in your winter’s sleep.”
So scratch he did, or he started scratching. Looking down, after a few minutes, he saw a pickaxe, and then a jackhammer, and then a wrecking ball, and he worked on that wall ceaselessly, because every time he stopped, there was just that empty pit where his master’s pleasure had been, and the stranger laughing. and always the scent of pines, growing stronger and stronger as the crack widened bit by bit. The smell of the past, of loneliness, of freedom, of a world far away, of home. Yes, home, a place he’d been. He could feel the memory coming back, something distant but there all the same. He pressed his face against the crack, now wide enough that he could feel air brushing his face. A different air, an air he hadn’t felt in ages, free of soot and grime, and he drove at the wall even harder. He would get there, eventually, that much he knew. He wouldn’t stop until he did. However, he no longer knew what really drove him,the desire to please his master, or his sheer curiosity. And always, the stranger laughed, a laugh of malice, and in the back of his mind, he wondered what he might release upon himself when the wall did finally crumble down. He would find out soon enough however, and when he woke in Spring, it would be without this wall, and maybe with a grain of truth, both for himself, and for his master.
Bracken's Corner 