“No–No, you can’t do this sir, you–they remember me–they have to! I’m their fucking son!” Shane shouted, looking back at the house. At his house. At his parent’s house where he grew up. How could they not even recognize him?
“Them? Trust me boy, they don’t have a son. Don’t even have sex anymore–haven’t had sex once since I started working for them. He’s a closeted faggot, and she’s fucking her boss, and planning on leaving his sorry ass in a month or two. He’ll keep the house though–sort of. It’s the least I can give him, I suppose.”
“No way, my mom would never, she’d…and my dad isn’t gay!” Shane said, “I don’t…I don’t want to go with you, sir, please, let me go home.” He tried to open the door, but while his hand could grip the door handle of the truck, his body refused to pull it and open the door. Why wasn’t his hand working right? What in the world was wrong with him?
“I’ll tell you what, boy–I’ll let you go talk to them, see if you can convince them. If they believe you, that you’re their son, then I’ll let you stay with them–if they want to take you in. But look at you–fucking smell yourself, you fucking pig.”
Shane couldn’t resist the order, and fuck, did he reek. Then again, he hadn’t changed clothes once in weeks, and he spent all day and night sweating hard and cumming all over himself–and that was before Roger had started using him as a cumrag. He was filthy, stains up and down the front and back of him. But still–he knew he was right. He knew it. His hand worked, he got out of the truck and ran for the front door, pounding on it, terrified that Roger would chase him and order him back, but Roger just got out, leaned against the side of the hood, and watched.
His mom answered the door, and she…didn’t look happy to see Shane there. “Oh…uh, did you or your boss forget something?” she asked.
“Mom–Mom! It’s me, I’m your son. Please, let me inside.”
“Excuse me?” she said with a laugh, “I don’t have a son.”
“Who is it?” his father asked, coming to the door as well, smoking a cigar.
“It’s…I don’t remember his name–Roger’s boy. He…it’s nothing. You were just leaving, right?” she said.
“Dad, please–I’m not…I don’t know what he did, but you remember me, right?”
His dad raised an eyebrow and looked to his wife, who rolled her eyes. “He…says he’s our son, as if that cock of yours has ever gotten hard in the same room as me once,” she said. The tone was acid, and Shane saw his father wither slightly, turn, and retreat back down the hall.
“Mom, this isn’t you! Why are you doing this?” She tried to shut the door, but Shane forced it open and tried to bully his way inside.
“Roger! What is the matter with your boy?” she shouted, but Roger was already walking over.
“Don’t worry Ma’am, I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” he said, grabbed Shane by the collar of his coveralls and hauled him back from the doorway. “It’s time we left, right boy?”
Shane was crying again, looking at his mom, terrified that she couldn’t remember him.. Her eyes–she was scared of him, but why? He hadn’t done anything wrong!
“Apologize to her. You were very rude, boy.”
“S-S-Sorry…Ma’am…”
“Now, get in the truck,” he said, and shoved Shane down the steps. “Don’t worry Ma’am,” Roger said to her, “As soon as you close the door, you’ll forget this even happened.” She nodded, still a bit shaken, but Roger knew that would settle it, and kept pushing Shane to the truck.
They rode in silence for a while, Shane still stunned. Everything had been normal that morning. He’d made breakfast, he’d talked with both his parents for a bit before getting started on the weekend’s tasks with Roger. Just another Saturday. “Why do I remember them, though?” he asked himself, but Roger heard him.
“Because I want you to. Because–fuck–it’s gonna be fun breaking you, boy. It’s been fun already, but it’s only going to get better from here. Fucking lucky I found you boy, you fell right in my lap. Now, how about dinner?”
They pulled into a fast food drive through, and Roger ordered a ton of food. Shane didn’t feel hungry at all, but Roger told him to eat, and he couldn’t disobey. “I…You did something to them. What did you do?”
“Same thing I’ve been doing for months, boy.”
“Wait, months?”
“Been doing it to you too, boy. I could make you forget them if I wanted. I could make you forget everything. Make you dumb as a brick. Still might do that, later, but I wanna see how you do at home first. See how agreeable you are.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“It’s a good racket, boy. Pick a rich mark, start a nice long project. Free food, maybe fuck a handsome husband for a few months–year if I’m lucky, before they start to run dry of savings. Then I move somewhere else, pick a new target. But I’ve been…lonely, boy. You’re dad back there–I liked the look of him a lot–he was someone I could really have some fun ruining. Was going to take him under my wing, sell off the house once we fixed it up together–but then you come home! Fuck boy, handsome as shit, an athlete–I just had to fuck you up. Was just gonna make you drop out of college and become a proper workin’ man, but…but the longer we worked together, the more I wanted you instead of your daddy. You’re just so…soft,” he said, stroking Shane’s face, “Malleable. You’ll do anything, and you don’t even question it. I can control anyone, but I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who wants to be controlled like you do.”
“I don’t want to be here! I want to go home!”
“Ha, your mouth says one thing, but your heart says another. Your heart wants me to collar you, to humiliate you–make you into a fat, dirty pigboy for me to use for a good long time–so that’s what we’re gonna do, right boy?”
“Y-Yes sir,” Shane said, much to his own surprise, but whether it was Roger’s tricks, or his own secret willingness, he didn’t know anymore–he just kept eating. When Roger told him to jack off, he did that too–and then they headed home, and Shane slowly resigned himself to the possibility that it was far, far too late to do anything about the nightmare he’d found himself in, other than live in it.
Bracken's Corner 