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    Percy
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

My GA Writing Prompts - 4. Confession

This is a mash-up of responses to a couple of the prompts. It has a dark theme and deals with violence. If you're looking for light reading, this isn't a good choice.

The knock came as I stood in front of the mirror making another attempt at a bow tie. My eyes tracked the fingers of my hands, nails newly clipped and buffed, as they started again on the unfamiliar knot. These days, few occasions require the formality of a tuxedo, but a man’s wedding was certainly one of them. My sister, Suniti, crossed the room to answer the door.

“Kellen needs to see Ravi.” The words were faint, but I recognized the voice as Steve’s, my fiancé’s best man. The pit of anxiety that had taken up residence in my gut three days ago suddenly metastasized.

Go away. I silently directed the command at both the anxiety and Steve. Whatever Kellen wanted to tell me could wait until after our wedding. In less than an hour we will have said our vows. We’ll be married. I didn’t want to hear anything that would change that future.

Kellen and I had met two years ago and immediately became inseparable. I’d surprised him in the spring with a marriage proposal. After some hesitation, he’d said yes, and we’d thrown ourselves into four months of wedding planning. We’d decided on a small, traditional ceremony with just our closest friends and family. Our synchronicity in handling the details, in making all the choices from location to music to flowers, had only confirmed what a perfect match the two of us were. Kellen was the man I had always hoped to find. Whatever had happened at his bachelor party three nights ago didn’t matter to me. If Kellen had a confession, he could make it after we were married.

“He can’t come in.” Suniti, in her role as my best man, was delivering the news to Steve. “They agreed that they wouldn’t see each other today. Bad luck.”

“Go get him.” The words were an order from a man who was use to giving them.

“No.” Suniti stood her ground. In the mirror, I could see her cross her arms and set her jaw, the very picture of defiance even in her sari. The former army officer on the other side of the threshold was not use to having his orders challenged. For a moment I was tempted to see who would win this battle.

“Little girl, I’m only going to repeat myself once. Kellen needs to see Ravi. Go. Get. Him.”

Much as I wished my older sister could still fight my battles for me, I knew that wasn’t fair. I took a deep breath and exhaled as much of the anxiety as I could, trying to believe that my future wasn’t about to unravel.

“Suniti, it’s okay. If Kellen wants to see me then I want to see him too.”

I turned away from the mirror and approached the door. Behind Steve, I saw that Kellen had accompanied his friend and former commander to this wing of the old Victorian estate we’d chosen for our ceremony. He stepped past Steve and Suniti, taking up residence by the one window in the room without looking at me. I saw that Kellen had donned his tuxedo pants and black dress shoes but wore only a white undershirt on top.

His state of partial undress only served to increase my worry. Bach’s Air on the G String swelled from the string quartet, signaling what should be our imminent arrival in the courtyard where our ceremony was planned.

Suniti gave me a worried looked and I squeezed her arm.

“It’s okay.” I repeated though clearly something was not okay.

“We should see to the guests and alert the musicians they’ll be playing a bit longer than originally planned.” Steve was addressing Suniti again, his voice gentler than before. She nodded, accepting the arm he extended to her as they left the room.

Before they left, Steve’s large hand descended on my shoulder. Brows knitted, he gave me a look I couldn’t interpret.

What was that about? I’d met Steve only a week before when he’d flown in for the wedding along with a handful of other men Kellen had served with in the army. Kellen didn’t speak often about that part of his life. Assigned to a special operations unit, much of his service activities were classified. I did know, however, that he and Steve had been captured and held prisoner for a period of three weeks by guerilla troops. Once released, neither had returned to active duty. They’d taken their honorable discharge and left to start civilian careers. Kellen and Steve spoke infrequently, yet the man had been the first person Kellen had called to announce our plans to marry.

Kellen still stood by the window and I took a deep, calming breath as I approached. Worries about what he had to tell me popped in my head like a string of firecrackers. He’d changed his mind. He’d met someone else. A long, lost flame had returned, maybe Steve. He’d had wild, raunchy sex the night of his bachelor party.

That last one was what I most suspected. So what? I shrugged the suspicion off. Maybe he had gone a little wild at his bachelor party, had some crazy hook-up. Kellen hadn’t come into our relationship with a lot of experience. Maybe he’d taken a swing at playing around. I could handle that. I think.

I stood close to him, staring out the window at the green rolling hills that surrounded the old estate. The sun was high, warming the landscape and intensifying the colors. Even the sun reminded me of Kellen. He’s all blonde hair and blue eyes, a sharp contrast to my dark features. The first time I saw him I thought he’d brought sunshine into the room.

Right now, he was pale under his tan. Pale sunlight on snow. He looked cold, frozen. “What’s going on , Kellen?”

He drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. “Let’s sit.”

He didn’t look at me when he spoke, just stepped away and pulled out two folding chairs from a stack that had been leaning against the wall.

We sat at an angle from each other, knees nearly touching. Both of us leaned forward, resting elbows on knees.

“I need to tell you why I have that scar on my stomach.”

I almost slid out of the chair I was so relieved. If I hadn’t been sitting, I would have fallen. This wasn’t about his bachelor party. Mentally, I scrambled to regroup.

“You’d told me it came from the time you were captured. When you and Steve were held prisoner.”

“Yes, and that’s true. Indirectly.” His hands were clasped between his knees and he looked at them as he spoke. They slowly clenched and unclenched. “The scar is from a skin graft. My abdomen was a donor site for some repairs the doctors made once I was released.”

This was going to be bad. But at the moment, it was not as bad as hearing he had engaged in some sort of dalliance three nights ago. Kellen had never told me exactly what had happened during the weeks he’d been held captive. I knew he’d been tortured, that he’d spent a long time recovering both physically and mentally from the ordeal. Early in our relationship, I would ask him to tell me what he’d gone through as a prisoner. He had always declined, speaking only in generalities and saying the details were in a book better left closed.

My imagination had filled in what he’d left unsaid. I’d always assumed the worst, of course. Violent physical assaults, rape, psychological torture. Whatever he was about to tell me, I could take it. I vowed to be strong for him, compassionate, to hear him out. For some reason, he wanted me to know the details now, before we married.

“I also told you that I was on some medication and that was the reason my ejaculate, my come, is so thin. You never asked me what the medication was or why I was taking it.” He looked up at me, eyes not so distant.

“I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know, or if I needed to know. It all seemed wrapped up in a past you didn’t want to revisit. I wanted to respect that.”

“I know. I’m glad you didn’t push because I wouldn’t have stuck around. But now,” his eyes were pleading. “Ask me now.”

“What medication are you on that makes the texture of your come so thin?”

“It’s testosterone, Ravi. I’m on hormone replacement therapy, “ he looked expectant, as if he hoped I’d connect the dots. I tried to understand what he was driving at.

“You take testosterone and it affects your come? You had skin grafted? To where? I’m sorry, Kellen. I’m not following.” I rested a hand on his clasped ones but he drew them away.

I sat back. Kellen’s eyes went distant again.

“It wasn’t the enemy who captured us. At least, not an enemy we knew we had. The overall operation was a covert one. The general public would be surprised to learn the U.S. had enough interest in that part of the world to send in troops. Nevertheless, battles and skirmishes had been raging back and forth in the area for years between local guerilla forces. The U.S. felt it was in the interest of the country to lend technical support to one of the factions, and my unit was sent out on that mission.

We’d been in the area a couple of weeks when Lt. Fisher - that’s what I called Steve back then - and Sargent Lopez and me, we all were captured while crossing what we thought was a neutral zone. “

“But, you weren’t captured by the people you were fighting?”

“No. We were captured by an indigenous people about whom very little is known. They are a small tribe and shun contact with anyone outside their own people. From what we gathered during our captivity, however, they were angered by the constant battles that infringed on what they considered their native land.”

Kellen was talking more freely now, even glancing at me from time to time, but it didn’t seem to be putting his mind at ease. He was starting to sweat and his breathing was shallow. Now I wished, for his sake, that all he had to tell me was he’d gotten smashed at his bachelor party and had a boozy hook-up.

Tentatively, I touched his knee. “It’s okay, Kellen. What do you need to say?”

He stood and paced as he continued. “Communication with our captors was difficult. Lopez and I couldn’t understand a thing. Steve was fluent in the language of the country, but even that was far from his first language. The dialect spoken by our captors was hard for him to follow, particularly under duress, as we were.

“Even without understanding the language, it became evident that our capture was a source of division among the tribe. The group who had captured us was in the minority, all young men who appeared to threaten not only us but at times their elders and the families of the tribe. Others in the tribe seemed to advocate on our behalf, but they were unsuccessful in removing us from control of the young men.

“The men holding us squabbled amongst themselves too. Some strung us up and beat us for sport. We were never questioned, just subjected to the beatings, jeers and taunts. In time Steve was able to follow some of their conversations. As I said, we’d been captured in retaliation for the constant fighting they’d been subjected to. Now that they had us they weren’t sure what to do with us.

“Steve prodded them toward releasing the three of us. After about three weeks, they told Steve that it would be the last night they would keep us and that after that night, we’d never see them again.”

“And is that what happened? Did they release you the next day?”

“Yes.” Kellen seated himself, shot up, paced, took his seat again. “But, that night was the worst of our capture. The night that changed the rest of my life.

“We were staked out on the ground which had been a common way of binding us. I was grateful for the darkness as the sun wasn’t in our eyes. They lit a large fire. That was unusual, the size of it. It was quite bright and would be easily detectable for miles. In fact, it is what led the search party to us.

“But, I’m getting ahead of myself. The young men in charge of our capture were drinking, going through some sort of ritual. They would make speeches in turn, then come kick us and spit on us, all to the cheers of their comrades. Steve said it sounded like grandstanding about how powerful they were and how their enemy was weak. The spoke of their superiority and that when we returned to our people, all the world would know of their superiority.

“The grandstanding and drinking grew more chaotic and we sensed the rest of the tribe, those who themselves feared the men, withdraw. That’s when our captors began brandishing their spears and other weapons, all tipped with stones sharpened to a razor’s edge.”

Kellen paused again in his story, and was quiet for a long while.

“I’m still here, Kellen. Tell me what they did with the weapons.”

“There was a reason they’d staked us out as they had, arms and legs spread eagled. They started with Lopez. He screamed. Not yelled. Screamed. I could turn my head enough, just barely see him. What I saw…they’d driven a spear through his groin, sliced his nutsack. I watched, almost too shocked to be horrified. They withdrew the spear, drove it in a second time. He screamed again. And bled. The blood poured out from between his legs. And then they were standing around me, over my body, lifting the spear.”

Nausea welled up, gathering with the force of a geyser. I lurched from the chair and over to the trash bin by the door. The small amount I’d eaten that day splattered onto the plastic lining as I retched it out of my gut.

Rage followed right behind the vomit, spewing out of my mouth unchecked. “Exactly who did this to you, Kellen? What animals…hell, even animals don’t do this, what people did this to you?”

He gave me a blank stare and looked back down at his hands. “In past cultures, castration wasn’t an uncommon practice. Invading forces would be captured and the victors would cut off their-“

“I don’t want a fucking history lesson, Kellen!” I strode over, grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt and yanked him up to his feet. “I want to know who did this. Who were they? How do people like this even exist? At least tell me that we went after them, that they paid for what they did.”

Kellen just stared at me, watching my rage play out. At least he saw me, no longer looking into the distance with that blank stare. That, more than anything, caused my anger to ebb. What was I saying? Even if I had a name, a location, a continent, it would be impossible for me to go and extract justice for him.

I was suddenly self-conscious at my loss of control. So much for my vow to be a compassionate listener and hear him out. My hands unclenched, smoothed his shirt over those chiseled pectoral muscles I’d traced so often with hands and tongue. He loved having his nipples sucked, twisted. He hated having his balls played with. Scenes from our past became clearer.

Early on in our relationship, if I reached down to palm his scrotum, suck his balls, he would immediately pull me away. His cock, the rest of his body, eagerly accepted attention. I’d just accepted he didn’t like his nuts handled. He nearly always topped, his discomfort at bottoming plainly more than a physical one. I’d chalked that last part up to his experiences at the hands of his torturers. In a sense, I’d been right, just not in the way I’d imagined.

A wave of guilt crested and broke over me. We’d established some patterns early in our sexual relationship that had never been re-visited. As we grew closer, I should have invited him, encouraged him, to tell me more about what was going on with his body.

“Jesus, Kellen” I struggled for something else to say. Something comforting for him. For me.

“Jesus,” I repeated.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to tell you ever since we started planning this wedding. I just couldn’t bring myself to, and eventually I convinced myself it wasn’t important.”

“But, something changed your mind. Something at your bachelor party?”

“It wasn’t much of a party. Me and the team hanging out. They all know, of course. The tribe abandoned us and the team located us soon after. Lopez didn’t make it. He bled out. But the tribe hadn’t used the same…approach… on me or Steve. The method of mutilation was different and they cauterized our wounds. Not an act of compassion, by the way. They wanted us to live.

After Steve and I were found, our teammates did go after the tribe. Against orders to stay at camp, they went looking for revenge. They never found a trace. Those people are good at staying out of sight. If they don’t want to be seen by an outsider, they won’t be.

“But, to answer your original question, yes. Steve asked how you’d taken the news that I’d didn’t have a real set of balls. When I admitted you didn’t know, they, Steve particularly, thought I should tell you. That it wouldn’t be fair for you to find out later, after we were married.”

“Fair? What does that mean?” I felt myself getting angry again. “I made up my mind about you before I proposed. Nothing about us has changed.”

“But, you didn’t know about this,” Kellen’s voice was hoarse. He met my eyes briefly then turned away, pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes as if he could force the tears I’d seen there back in. “Damn it. I promised myself I’d get through this without crying. That I wouldn’t break down like a –“

“Don’t say it!” I spun him back around, jerking his arms down so I could see his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think was coming out of your mouth.”

My hands cuffed his wrists and he glared at me through the tears. “That I wouldn’t break down like a girl!”

He spat the words at me and jerked free. I tensed, wanting again to throw something, wanting to shake him. Did he really think I would start to see him that way? As a girl? As something other than a man?

I know you’re not a girl. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I corralled them before they could escape. He needed more than that. He didn’t need some quick, expected response from me. Before I could speak again, Kellen was talking.

“What I was saying earlier, about ancient cultures? Castration was a message to the enemy. Stay away. If you send invading forces, we’ll capture them. We will cut off their balls and send your men back as women.” Kellen dropped back into his chair.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and stared at the floor. This is it. Our future rests on whether I get this right, whether I can prove to him I still think he’s a man, a full man, that I have no reservations about that.

“Kellen,” I took my seat again across from him. “I can’t begin to truly know what it’s like to undergo an experience, an assault, like what happened to you. But I think, if something happened to me, and I woke up one morning without my balls, hell even if I’d grown breasts – I think I’d still know I was a man.”

He was listening. This time when I took his hand, he didn’t pull away. The palms were smooth now, but when we’d met they’d been calloused. His years of work outside, the physical labor still visually evident. “There’s got to be something more to manhood than a set of balls. Your manhood wasn’t cut away. You can’t cut away what’s inside.”

He was quiet and then I felt his free hand brushing my cheek, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized had fallen. “I’ve been so afraid to tell you. I thought you would understand, Ravi. That’s why I said I’d marry you. But, I was still so afraid to tell you the truth.”

In the next instant I was holding him. Or, he was holding me, I wasn’t sure. I buried my face in his hair, breathing in the scent of citrus and something uniquely Kellen. “I can’t believe you held that in for so long.”

“When we first started going out, it was too soon to share something so personal. Then, when things were going so well, it was easy to convince myself it just wasn’t important.”

“I’m glad Steve encouraged you to tell me. I owe him one of for that, because everything that makes you who you are, the man you are, is important to me.

“Speaking of which…how could I not have figured this out? Are the doctors these days that good?”

“Yeah, they really are. First off, even though my nuts were mutilated beyond repair, a lot of the scrotal skin was left behind. A plastic surgeon was able to take what was left, together with a graft from my abdomen, to create a ball sac for me. The new nuts are silicon. It does feel different, of course. That’s why I never let you play with them or even get a good look. On close examination, the difference can be seen and felt. You would have had questions. The HRT, hormone replacement therapy, takes care of the rest. It was amazing, actually. Almost as soon as I started testosterone injections, I was getting erections again. Of course, without my balls, I’m not producing sperm so what comes out isn’t as thick.”

I shuddered.

“Sorry, that’s not revulsion. Just sympathy for everything your body’s gone through. A body that I’d really like to take a closer look at, make a thorough inspection of it, learn all the parts I’ve been neglecting,“ I pulled back to peer at his face. “If that’s okay?”

The familiar spark I knew as Kellen was back in his eyes. “I’d say that’s what honeymoons are for. I may even see my way to letting you top a little more often.”

“Honeymoon, eh?” I grinned. “I think we need to get married first. Are you saying you’re ready?”

“Ready.” With a brief tender kiss, we left the room and walked down the long hallway toward the terrace. The string quartet was diligently entertaining the guests. Suniti and Steve were stationed at the end of the hallway, faces etched in concern.

My sister leapt up as she saw us approach, dismay crossing her face as she hurried forward. Steve was right behind her, brows creased as he looked at us. Suniti reached us first. “What’s going on? We got the musicians to keep playing, but they’re starting to repeat their repertoire.”

I looked at Kellen, saw a grin on his face that mirrored the one on my own.

“We’re ready.” I said. “Let’s do this thing.”

Steve pinned Kellen with a look. “You talk it all out?”

“Yep. Everything’s good. Like Ravi said…we’re ready.”

Steven chuckled and shook his head while Suniti stifled a giggle. “You’re hardly ready, Brother. And neither is your fiancé. “

I opened my mouth to protest, but Suniti had already taken charge.

“This one still needs his tie fixed.” She pointed at me as she addressed Steve. “I trust you can help him with that?”

Hooking an arm through Kellen’s she winked at me. “I’m going to finish getting this one ready.”

Kellan and I looked down at ourselves. We were in the same state of dishabille we’d been in when our conversation started. Both of us started to laugh as we realized what a sight we made.

Before Suniti dragged him off, he caught me close, pulling my head down for another quick kiss. “I don’t want anything to change between us.”

“The only changes will be for the better, Kellan. We have our whole lives to keep changing for the better.”

At which point Suniti shooed me away, insisting that it was long past time for us to be at the alter. Watching Kellen walk down the hall with my sister, laughing at her teasing, I knew what I’d just said was true. The two of us would just keep getting better.

The tale was in response to comicfan's Prompt 126 (The Wedding) and a prompt left by mistylake26 titled A Dark Love Story.
Copyright © 2015 Percy; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

On 06/06/2012 03:23 PM, comicfan said:
This isn't what I was expecting when I put up the prompt but that is what makes it so good. There is no right or wrong way to take them. I am glad you did this one, Percy. Truly a great tale. I couldn't believe what that soldier had to sacrifice. Not exactly and easy tale to read.
Thx Wayne. Your feedback is always appreciated. I waffled on whether to post it at all. Next time, the confession will be more fun. "Surprise! You thought I was a pauper but I'm really a prince.". Or maybe "Surprise! You thought I was human but I'm really a were-creature."

 

These prompts are dangerous. Thanks for continuing to put them out there.

I'm glad you put the prompt 'the wedding' at the end, because I was wondering about it while reading.

 

The setting in this story is classical - a couple, a few minutes before the wedding ceremony and something is disturbing the peace and happiness which should be predominant at this time of the characters' lives. Then you turn it into something less classical.

 

The main character's worry, that his man has had a hot hook-up with someone else at his bachelor party is also logical, and then comes a much more serious confession, and this is where it becomes truly interesting. A simple scenario, just a few characters, a dialogue and you turn it into a story about identity - what makes a man? And what if the image of who one is is wounded/destroyed somehow - how do you resurrect it when what was an important part of your identity is lost for ever?

 

You also breach the importance of trust for any long term relationship. It's obvious Kellen feels so much better once he has opened up and told his man what's bothering him. And the story, despite it's dark content, ends in a brighter mood and with hope for a promising future for the two of them together.

 

I liked it.

On 06/06/2012 06:55 PM, sorgbarn said:
I'm glad you put the prompt 'the wedding' at the end, because I was wondering about it while reading.

 

The setting in this story is classical - a couple, a few minutes before the wedding ceremony and something is disturbing the peace and happiness which should be predominant at this time of the characters' lives. Then you turn it into something less classical.

 

The main character's worry, that his man has had a hot hook-up with someone else at his bachelor party is also logical, and then comes a much more serious confession, and this is where it becomes truly interesting. A simple scenario, just a few characters, a dialogue and you turn it into a story about identity - what makes a man? And what if the image of who one is is wounded/destroyed somehow - how do you resurrect it when what was an important part of your identity is lost for ever?

 

You also breach the importance of trust for any long term relationship. It's obvious Kellen feels so much better once he has opened up and told his man what's bothering him. And the story, despite it's dark content, ends in a brighter mood and with hope for a promising future for the two of them together.

 

I liked it.

Thank you for reading, Sorgbarn. I'm glad the themes came through. I appreciate the review.
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