Light
#1 of You Can Never Go Home
Silence is no one's friend. The cool darkness we all feel in the back of our minds comes alight when attended to enough. It's like staring down a street and then having it suddenly filled with neon and smoke, all the sound and bustle of some gaudy after Mardi Gras party, complete with the smell of stale vomit. So we learn to block it out. We play our games, learn to hate or love so we don't have time to feel anything. I do this just as well as anyone, I suppose...only I know what lurks back there. That's what gets me into all this shit, but it's probably the only thing that keeps me sane too. So I guess now you're gonna ask yourself "what kind of shit is some scrawny ass cheetah really gonna get himself into?" Well, here, let me tell you about some of my world....
Chapter 1
I fucking hate the sunrise. You hear all kinds of charming bullshit about reds and yellows like an oil painting, or the sounds of birds all gold washed like they were just born out of Hephestus forge.... Yeah, I more like to think of it as the crash landing after the relative peace of dreaming. I mean, really, you like opening your eyes and being blinded when you already have the taste of shit in your mouth? Didn't think so. Unsurprisingly I'm in a bad mood when I wake up...especially when I have to go to probation. As if my life wasn't bad enough...growing up where I did...but you can hear about that later. Well, I have to get up early once a month to go...and walking out into the glare this morning, I was in a PARTICULARLY bad mood. So when I ran into the lion standing out on the corner across from the bus station, I whipped around and snapped my teeth together intending to tell him off. I was stunned, both by the sight of his eyes and the knuckles that struck the side of my face. My head swam, black dots swimming across my vision. For one moment, I felt like I must be about to die and go to hell. Staring into those two orbs...yellow, wide, and with absolutely no soul behind them. I swear, nothing that ever happened after this could ever compare...maybe because it was the first really horrible thing? Maybe because it was the face of what I'd endured for so long? I don't really know....but I do know that when I managed to recover enough to try and say something, all that came out of my muzzle was a strangled sound.
He shoved me into the alley, forcing me back roughly into the darkest corner...not even trash on the ground, as though it were somewhere so unholy, only he could exist there. My heart was hammering in my chest, I couldnt breathe... You'd see something like this in the movies, then he'd pull out a knife and I'd be some crime scene. No, this was worse. Kneeling down in front of him, there was a blade, but it was only in my mind as I stared at the zipper on his jeans which he fondled. This was the moment I would never forget....watching his fingers move, each tooth echoing in my ears like the toll of a bell as the zipper passed over it. His erection pressed out through the fly of his pants, staring me in the face like some serpent deciding whether to strike. It did...and all I could do was gag and pray in my mind, too paralyzed to even close my eyes. I couldn't even feel it as he shoved to the hilt in my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I may have stayed there an hour or a minute, I'm still not really sure. All I know is that when the numbness started to pass, I gagged hard and tried to pull back. The crazed lion snarled down at me, as though he couldn't really speak, even if he had wanted to. I guess, luckily for me...if you want to call it that, he shot a load right down my fucking throat. I didn't really have much choice but to swallow. Oh, did I mention I'm not gay? No, probably left that out. I'd never so much as been on a date at this point. I guess I wasn't really too busy thinking about that at the moment though. He pulled out of my mouth slowly, his cock glistening even in the dim light of the alley. For some reason I felt the deepest horror yet at realizing it was my muzzle that wet that prick hanging before me. He wiped it clean on my cheek, nodded down at me once....and left, stuffing himself back into his pants as he went. I crouched there for a while, wondering whether to throw up, or whether it had all been some shitty fever-dream. At last I stood up...and did the only thing that's ever been consistent in my life. I wiped my face clean with my shirt and sat down on the bench, waiting for the bus....