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Stories 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. 

Savage Moon 05 - Unleashed - 9. Chapter 9

My stomach was still trembling when I walked out to that truck.

Was it all a game?

Did Cyrus and his goons enjoy seeing me sweat like this? Did they truly get a kick out of keeping me on edge at all times, hoping that the tension in me will force me to snap in half at some point when I couldn't take any more?

Or did his little demonstrations contain a necessary lesson that he wanted me to absorb? A reason for me to further put my faith and trust into this strange group of characters that I didn't even KNOW up until less than a week ago. What am I doing here? Why were these misfits so incredibly appealing to me? There's nothing about this behavior that could be defined as being even remotely appropiate. It's hardly even sane. I can't even explain how I fell into this fucked up method of thinking. I'm drinking and fighting and running away from home and having LOTS of promiscuous sex with kids who are basically strangers to me....and I don't know how to STOP it! Not because my brain isn't ringing every alarm and setting off every warning signal that it has to warn me...but because I'm enjoying it enough to willfully want to ignore it! WHY? How am I gaining any satisfaction from this at all? I don't know. But as I got into the back of that truck, and felt Dexter hug himself up against me, his soft boyish fingers sliding over my thigh to rub my crotch lovingly as he practically purred in my arms, I found myslef giving into it again. That 'feeling'. That liberation. That power. I felt my spirit relax as it finally stopped kicking against the current for a change, and simply float along with the emotions racing through me. And here I was.....drifting. It was soooooo soothing. So natural. It became such a comfort to simply follow without question. To let the boy I chose as my leader to guide me...without having to worry about his intentions or his restrictions. With his guidance...I was simply able to release...and float. My God. You have no idea what it's like to momentarily stop thinking for yourself and just have faith that you're moving in the right direction. Letting go of all that mental and emotional conflict seemed to bring joy to my very spirit, and it instantly gave way to an insatiable desire for more.

More experience. More truth. More sex. More discovery. It was a neverending curiosity for a level of freedom that I had never known before. Even with the lingering fear in my heart from the scene at the restaurant...I found myself looking for that invisible 'line' to be drawn in the sand...then searching for ways to step over it. Wondering just how far I could go. And what would be waiting for me when I reached the boundaries of my own sanity. It was an allure that has to be felt to be explained. No other mind could possibly grasp the concept, not fully. Not like me.

It's a weird feeling, allowing your previous notions of civility and proper conduct to slip away. It was so....easy. I thought that someone had to be completely crazy to act this way...but the truth is...the craziness feels more in tune with who I really am than the 'good boy' image ever did. Or ever COULD. What does that say about me? What does that say about ANY of us, really?

Dex rubbed me up and down, and I felt my hips involuntarily push up into his hand as he did so. Much like my hunger at the restaurant...my sexuality had been full awakened by the others. My desires ran wild, like an animal released from its chains, and that hunger was now insatiable. Getting spoiled...from having its every whim attended to with such passion. And so quickly at that. It was then that Dexter began softly kissing the nape of my neck, and his fingers began to work on the button and zipper of my jeans. Here we were, on the open road where anyone could see us, in the back of the truck with four other people watching...and I let him open my pants and expose my rising erection to the air. There was no hesitation. No caution. I just let him do it. And by giving in to that feeling, the energy that flowed through all of us became stronger. I could feel it in the very center of my being. Letting go put me in sync with everyone else, and that just gave me this feeling of utter invinceability the likes of which you wouldn't believe. The sensation was so enchanting.

How could I have not seen the signs back then? How could I fall so far?

Dex was able to fish my hardness out of my boxers once he had my fly open, and without so much as a whisper of permission, he moved his head downward and gently took me into his mouth. I gasped as I felt his moist red lips spread slowly over the sensitive head, and then thrust upwards as the warmth and the wetness slid further down my shaft until it was all the way inside. His tongue rippled around it, his blond curls tickling my stomach, and when he began to rise back up to the tip, I heard a moan escape my lips. The others were watching, the twins especially, but I didn't want Dexter to stop. Even as they smiled and licked their lips in approval. My self conscious jitters came to an end once I closed my eyes and pretended that the others weren't there. And I just let it happen. Dex going painfully slow as his head bobbed up and down on my swollen inches. I felt weightless in my seat. Dexter gave me a blowjob that I could feel pleasantly churning in the center of my stomach! It was hard to sit still and not wiggle right out of his sucking mouth, but I fought to remain still anyway. God....was I really doing this? Was I really letting this cute tenage boy suck me off in the back of a moving truck? And....can it really be like this all the time...if I just give in?

I couldn't hold off for long. Dexter's lips were amazing, and his tongue was a sensual bonus that nearly pushed me over the edge instantly. I put both of my hands in his soft golden locks and held onto him as I neared an explosive climax. Dex only sucked harder, soft whimpers humming a series of passionate vibrations around my already hypersensitive shaft. And with a light squeal of my own, I raised my hips off of the tire and pushed as far into Dex's vacuum as I could. My orgasm seemed to travel all the way to the very tip and stop for a few seconds while I writhed in blissful agony. And then....release. Soooooo much release. I came so much that I thought for sure that Dex would gag or choke in his attempt to swallow it all. But he never missed a drop. He kept swallowing, kept moving, kept bobbing up and down, his fingers cradling and tenderly squeezing the nuggets providing him with such a tasty offering. My body began to spasm as he kept sucking me, the last drops being pulled into his mouth, and even when I was sure that I couldn't take anymore, when I was so sensitive that it almost HURT for his lips to touch me...he sucked for a minute or two more, and didn't let go until my body collapsed into sexual exhaustion.

The other boys in the back of the truck grinned at one another as Dex let my softening inches go, and left my pants and boxers open. I didn't even put my 'weapon' away for the first couple of minutes, just leaned back with it laying limply across my lap as I attempted to get my breathing back to normal. It was a mindblowing revelation that I had shortly afterwards. If I wanted sex...I got it. And I could choose any one of a variety of partners to do it with. No questions asked. It was that simple. Wow...I wonder who I want next? Hehehe, a guy could get to LIKE this sort of thing!

I felt Cyrus turn off the road and slow down, which meant we were stopping off some place. So I swiftly reached down and tucked myself back into my boxers, and carefully zipped up. I sat up, and saw us pulling around the side of some gas station, liquor store, combo. There were a few people filling their cars up, and a few more shopping inside, but Cyrus kept going until we were almost out of sight from everyone else. He parked underneath a tree with branches hanging low enough to cause the twins to have to duck under it, and then he turned off the ignition.

Everyone got out, the truck patrially hidden, and Cyrus instantly began walking around the store to the back. The food I had been cramming down my throat absorbed a lot of the alcohol I had been drinking earlier, but when I stood up, I still felt a little wobbly in the legs. Then again, some of that could have been from the expert sweetness of Dexter's sensual blowjob too.

We walked in unison, step by step. It was always something that I took time to notice. Because there was no effort involved. Not even an 'awareness', really. Just...whenever I looked down at my feet and theirs, they were always in sync. Perfectly. Even Scout...whose legs were obviously shorter, feet smaller. He never missed a beat. And when all of us were together like that, the sensation was amazing. So protected. So untouchable. It did wonders for the ego just to be around them.

I heard noises in the distance, and when Cyrus led us around to the back door, we saw a guy who was maybe in his early twenties, but hardly looked any older than the rest of us. He was with one other guy, much older, and they were loading these big boxes off of a truck into the back of the old store. We fanned out into a different formation, and Cyrus approached them. The older man in the truck gasped when he first saw us, and his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he backed up and stopped handing the other guy boxes. The younger one looked over at us and rolled his eyes, more irritated than anything else.

"Evening, Robbie..." Cyrus smiled. "...Looks like you guys could use a few extra hands there to...lighten your load."

"Cyrus...I CAN'T, ok? You guys were JUST here last week! My Uncle Chester is already on my ass for the missing product, you're gonna get me fired!" The younger guy, Robbie, told him. The older man, however, backed even further away, slinking into the safe spot behind the delivery truck, hoping to avoid detection altogether in case he found the need to run for it. "Look...come back in a couple of weeks, and I'll have a few boxes ready for you, ok? I just can't risk it right now! Chester's got himself a pack a pens and a notebook to figure out just what's missing from every shipment and why."

"A couple of weeks does us no good, Robbie." Cyrus said calmly. "We have a new 'friend' here. He needs a balance. An 'ice breaker'. We're running low on supplies...so you have to be 'taxed'. It's as simple as that."

"Dammit, Cyrus..."

"Or do I need to remind you of how easy it would be for me to send Kriegar back by himself to collect our materials personally?" Whatever point it was that Cyrus was trying to make, he certainly made it with that statement. "I really don't think you want that, do you, Robbie? I'd like to think that we were much better friends than that."

The older man was still slowly moving behind the safety of his delivery truck, and I could hear the sounds of leaves and small twigs being crushed beneath his feet. He thought that he was being so quiet, but the sounds that I got from his movements were crisp and clear enough for me to practically get a visual picture of him in my mind. A 'ghost' of an image, created purely from sound and scent. He reached the front of his truck, and tried to slowly reach through the open window to grab his cell phone off of the front seat. But he didn't realize that John Boy was already standing right behind him, watching him as he flipped the phone open to make a call.

"Afternoon, Frank." John Boy said softly, and the man jumped with a gasp, his hands shaking so badly that he almost dropped the phone.

"I wasn't doing nothing, kid. Honestly. I just..."

"Shhhhh..." John Boy smiled. "Come on. Let's go back up front with the others. No need for you to hide out over here, is there?" The man slowly closed up the phone, and slipped it into his shirt pocket. "That's a good boy. Now, move along."

Robbie was wrestling with the idea of giving Cyrus what he wanted, but he knew better than to put up too much of a fuss. He stepped closer to Cyrus to talk to him in a lower voice, and I felt my whole body tense up. It was almost the exact same bolt of emotional lightning that hit me back in that parking lot when those boys had approached Kristin...but a hundred times worse. This was Cyrus. And anyone getting close enough to cause him any harm at all was suddenly on our shitlist. I swear...I could feel the agression already building up in my veins. That anger was already looking for an opportunity to pounce on this guy and rip him to pieces the second he did so much as raise his voice to our father. I didn't have any sense of logic left...not any that I was used to, at least. And that mental 'fog' just took me over again, as my energies combined with that of the brothers and sister standing at my side.

Robbie spoke, "Listen...dude...maybe you could, like, 'give' me a little cash this time. The old man won't be back til after the weekend. I can adjust the inventory records on Monday and make it look like somebody just bought a few bottles. I can blame it on some local kids or something, and I won't get into so much trouble..."

"Do you like wasting my time, Robbie?" Cyrus asked him. "You're hesitating as though this was a negotiation. I assure you, it is not. I want one box of mixed bottles, and I'll leave you alone. What else is there to discuss?" Cyrus' eyes met with Robbie, who evidently knew how great the consequences of not giving in were going to be....even if I didn't. Then, Cyrus smiled, and he began to turn his back on him. "Suit yourself. But we're going to get that box before nightfall...I can guarantee you that."

"NO!!! WAIT!!!" Robbie cried out. "Ok! O-Ok! Just...let me put something together for you, alright?" I could tell that he hated to do it, but he had no choice. Cyrus' word is law. Hesitation isn't just an annoyance....it's a blasphemy.

"Scout...why don't you go in with our good friend, Robbie, and help him pick out the appropiate bottles for us?" Cyrus barely got the words out of his mouth before Scout had dettached himself from his master's hip, and went in behind Robbie to make sure that nothing funny was happening here.

I don't think I had ever been so alert, and the tension in my arms and legs didn't begin to fade until Robbie moved away from Cyrus and went inside. The older man, Frank, couldn't even look in John Boy's direction out of the corner of his eye without John Boy sensing it. And he always 'looked' back with a smile, those dark circle sunglasses pointed right in his direction. However...even as the energy flowing between us all was mixing and growing and keeping us strong as a single unit...there was a part of me that was screaming to be heard. A voice from the inside, caught in the middle of this...instinctual 'confusion'...that was asking me what the hell I thought I was doing. Are we robbing these guys of their liquor? Is that what is happening here? How can I be a part of this? What am I allowing myself to become?

It was like being lost in a dream. The more you tried to think straight, the more your inner 'autopilot' worked to show you how it had complete control. The surge of power kept its relentless grip on my sense of free will until it was almost difficult to breathe. I hardly even 'blinked', much less moved from my position. I kept my ears open, waiting for any sound that would pose a threat of any kind. I already had a strategy for attack mapping itself out in the back of my thoughts. And I couldn't fight it. It's like...there wasn't enough of 'me' left to fight it. My identity had somehow been 'absorbed' by the rest of the group, and I didn't know if I'd ever be able to break free of it again. Ever.

Somehow, if only for a moment, I was able to pierce through this veil of unprovoked hostility...and I saw myself acting in a way that didn't make much sense to me at all. So I resisted. I forced myself to loosen up a bit, and I took a good look at what was going on around me. This was wrong. This was going beyond a few childish pranks and a 'knuckle-up' in a parking lot. This wasn't me. It just...it wasn't me.

Feeling a bit of freedom from the incredible pull on my senses, I took a step or two backwards. I could see Kristin and Kriegar staring coldly at the back door, with Sebastian faithfully standing at Cyrus' right side as John Boy kept a close eye on Frank. The very air around us was still, not a single summer wind dared to pass between us, and I was almost frightened by the merciless calculation of it all. I backed up a bit further, hoping to remove myself from any fault in this endeavor whatsoever. But I had only taken a few steps before I bumped into something, and turned to see Shank and Razor standing right behind me. Razor lit up a particularly bright match in front of my face, and smiled as I flinched from the brightness of it. He held it so close that I thought it would singe the ends of my blond hair if I didn't back away from him. Razor's wicked grin taunted me, his green eyes shining with mischief as he silently warned me to get back in line. Shank, on the other hand, seemed to be analyzing me from head to toe. There was no smile on his face. Not at all. His gaze intimidated me to the point where I was sure that he didn't trust me. He watched my every move, and decoded my every thought. There was no way that I was going to just walk away from them. Not now. I'd have to come up with a much better plan than just 'sneaking' out while their backs were turned.

As if their backs were ever turned.

I could hear Robbie scrambling around inside for a few extra bottles to load up a box for us, Scout watching closely from a few steps away, and I made my way back to stand in my 'place'. The moment I stood upon my own footprints in the dirt, I felt the warmth of our united energy embrace me fully once again. And the dreamy haze of Cyrus' control began to settle back in almost immediately. Even with me trying to shake it out of my head every few seconds.

At that moment, I became aware of a tapping to the left of me. It was urgent and it was angry, impatient with the events taking place. When I turned my head, I saw Dexter using his thumb to pat feverishly at his belt. His foot was bouncing, and a slight, but visible, sneer had appeared on his once kissable lips. I don't know what had suddenly taken such a hold of his already unstable moodswings...but the aggravation of it was bilding fast, and I just wanted this to be overwith quickly before we got ourselves into any trouble.

Then, as if searching for a random outlet for his growing anger, Dex turned his head to look at Frank standing over by the truck. I guess Frank had been staring at Dex's frenzied movements as well...and he had just been caught. Dex slowly tilted his head to the side, his frown becoming as deep as the angry wrinkle in his brow, and he turned to face him. "What the fuck are you looking at?" Dexter's voice...it didn't even 'sound' like him. It was deep, guttural...almost as if it had come from an entirely different persoality altogether.

Frank didn't say a word. His fear caused him to sweat in buckets, his chest trembling as he forced his eyes in another direction. But Dex didn't let it go. He stomped over to him and slapped him across the face! "I asked you a QUESTION!!!" I had never seen him like this. I could hardly believe my eyes. Dex stepped closer, staring the man down with his eyes. "You hear me talking to you?" Dex whispered. And then he suddenly burst forward with both hands, shoving the man HARD up against the side of his truck! "HUH?!?!?!"

"I didn't do nothing. Nothing. I'm just here to drop off some boxes and get home. I don't have anything to do with this. I'm just trying to get back to my..."

Dexter stopped Frank's almost tearful babbling by putting his finger up to his lips. "Shhhhh...don't speak." He whispered again, and I watched as Dex moved close to the man's throat, and inhaled deeply. He moved to the other side of his neck, and again...he breathed in his scent. Dexter's menacing glare was frightening, but I think I was more disturbed by his actions. He sniffed at the larger man like a predator would at its fallen prey. He then gently licked the man's cheek...slowly...as he cringed with terror. And Dexter told him, "If you continue to speak...I might not be able to fight the urge...." He hissed. "...To devour your tongue."

I was horrified! What the hell was he DOING??? I snapped out of my trance and turned to look at John Boy to see if he was going to allow this verbal torture to continue. Everyone was so attentive to this kind of thing before. I kinda assumed that keeping Dex's insanity in check was a 'team' effort on our part. But when John Boy sensed me looking at him for an answer, he merely smiled at me in response. "AAHHHHHHH!!!" Frank cried out, and I looked to see Dexter stabbing him in the arm with his bladed cross. Dex's teeth were gnashed tightly together, and as he slowly dragged the razor sharp edge down the man's arm....a thick river of blood following behind it...I saw a long string of saliva drip from Dexter's mouth and side off of the edge of his chin.

"DEX!!!" I shouted. All heads turned to look at me, Cyrus included. My own voice never sounded so loud to me before in my life. Dex didn't take his eyes off of Frank. In fact, he raised Frank's injured arm, and lewdly took a long wet lick of the crimson liquid running out of his wound. Jesus! "DEXTER!!!" I said again.

This time, his head slowly turned to face me. His eyes...I'll never forget those eyes. I didn't think anyone other than Satan himself could stare at you with such darkness. "What?" He sneered softly. It was almost as if he was using every once of self control that he had just to keep from making me his next target.

I didn't know if it would work or not. A huge part of me was scared to even TRY it! But I gave it a shot anyway. "Dexter....come." I said, trying to make my voice as....um....commanding as possible. Dex gave me an awkward look, once again tilting his head to the side as though he didn't understand. The others all took notice of my actions, and I could fel the energy within me begin to change. Run cold. Almost as if they were systematically 'cutting me off' from the flow. Dex squinted his eyes, and then huffed as he basically blew me off, and turned to hold the bladed cross up to the man's throat. He pressed the surface of the edge against his flesh, and smirked as he prepared to slide it sideways. "DEXTER! COME!" I said again. "NOW!" I couldn't tell you where it came from or why I thought I could get away with it. But there was something about our connection that almost gave me permission to make this simple request of him.

This time, when Dex turned around, I saw his eyes change, almost right in front of me. I beckoned for him to stand next to me, and suddenly...a big innocent grin came to his adorable face, and he practically skipped his way towards me. "Ok!" He said cheerfully, turning to give Frank an apology with a momentary glimpse of puppy dog eyes. "Sorry if I hurt you, mister." The change was instantaneous, and as always, showed no signs of the evil deeds that preceeded that teen heart throb smile. I'm pretty sure that Frank was twice as confused as I was, but he was safe for now. And that was a major sigh of relief for the both of us. Dex came closer to be with me. However, before he could reach me and wrap his arms around my waist as usual...Cyrus stepped forward to block his motion. He stared me directly in the eye, his voice calm, but stern.

"Why don't you leave Dex to his desires? He was just having a little fun." Cyrus said. Even though he and I were almost the same height, something about his intimidating composure made me feel infinitely small in his presence.

I managed to lower my eyes from his stare, and mumbled out an answer. "H-h-he....he was gonna hurt him. I just thought..." My mouth went dry as he patiently waited for an excuse. "...We didn't need any more trouble. Not after what happened in town today. I was just trying to look out for us." I said, amazed that I even came UP with that on the spot. "I was trying to look out for all of us." I peeked up at Cyrus, who at first, didn't seem happy at all...but then let a small grin cross his lips.

He took a step closer, and placed his hand on the back of my neck as he touched his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes, electrified by his touch...but terrified of his intent. Then he said, "You let me worry about looking out for us from now on. Ok?" Cyrus kissed me softly on the lips, still rubbing up and down the back of my neck.

"I know. I know...I was just trying..." I felt a harsh YANK at my hair, causing me to yelp in pain.

"Your main concern should be MY safety! NOT HIS!!!" Cyrus snarled angrily without warning. And that's when Scout and Robbie came out with an overflowing box of alcoholic beverages. Thank God it got Cyrus to loosen his grip on my hair. "Are we done here?" He asked Scout, and the boy nodded...a cheeky grin on his little brat face from seeing me get 'handled' this way. "Good. Load it onto the truck, and let's go." Cyrus turned back to me, and he took a deep breath, as if to find the strength to contain his rage. Then, he gave me an evil smile, and lightly smacked me on the cheek. "Wesley, Wesley, Wesley...what am I going to do with you?"

"I'm...I'm sorry, Cyrus...." I said, shaking as my knees fought to keep from buckling.

"I know you are. And I can already see that this is something we're going to have to fix. Aren't we?" I nodded slowly, never lifting my eyes to look into his for too long. But he used both of his hands on my cheeks, and raised me up to see him eye to eye. He said, "You don't have many mistakes left, boy. Do you understand? I admire your persistence, but I will not tolerate your betrayal. Find your balance...quickly. And stop trying to fight a battle that you can't win. There is only so much I can allow." He rubbed his nose against mine and then hugged me around the neck, almost as if his impulsive affection could somehow dull the blunt force of his softly spoken threat.

This was no longer a game. There was actual 'danger' here. A slow burning flame, melting my remaining defenses like a soft ball of wax. I was too scared to allow myself to shiver in his arms, but I'm sure he could sense the fear within me. And....unless I was imagining things...I think he liked it.

"Load up. We've got stuff to do tonight." Cyrus said to the others, and they grabbed the boxes, loading them back onto the truck. Dex walked over to me, and gently took a hold of my hand. I guess a hug would be too much of a defiance at this point. I still couldn't fully understand his sudden infatuation with me, other than I hadn't been exposed to enough of his craziness to steer clear of him like the others did. I suppose he found me a delightful change to being tied to a chair and left in the basement. Maybe I'm the crazy one for getting so close.

Both Frank and Robbie stood trembling before us, waiting for Cyrus to dismiss them and send them back to their lives again without further interference. I took a long look at them as I felt the energy within tug at my senses, calling me to follow the others and get on the truck. This time, I did as I was 'told'. I saw Sebastian and Kristin speaking softly to Cyrus before aproaching the truck. They were a good distance away, but I could hear them anyway.

"He's not ready yet. He still fights the calling." Kristin told him.

Sebastian added, "He should be ready. He fights because he's stubborn. I expected your golden boy to have given himself over by now."

"He HASN'T! And it disturbs me that you would allow him to jeopardize our positions by allowing him to accompany us on things like this." Kristin said.

Cyrus calmly put a hand on both of their shoulders, and let his grin soothe their concerns. "Do not worry, you two. The calling will get stronger and soon there will be nothing left to fight. Everything is going the way it should. This is delicate work, and we must let the change happen on its own. But it takes time. Transformation is like a blossoming flower. Nurture it correctly, and it has no choice but to bloom. He will understand soon enough, and we'll have no more problems."

Sebastian's eyes casually glanced over at me, his beauty striking at my heart even from a distance, and I was forced to look away. He said, "I do not trust this one, father. His conflicts are unsettling."

And Cyrus told them, "His 'conflicts'...are why I chose him."

I suddenly felt something wrap around my waist, and looked down to see Dexter cuddled up under my arm, eyes closed. And when I looked up, both Shank and Razor were staring at me. They were both grinning, deviously delighted at whatever it was they knew about me that I didn't. I felt a light scratch on my arm, and saw Dex's cross, still stained with blood, as it was still attached to his wrist. Razor, always the instigator, leaned forward and said..."Won't be long now, boy scout. It's coming. I can 'smell' it on you."

"What won't be long now?" I asked.

"Trust me...you'll know it when you see it, Tigger. You'll know it when you see it." I heard the truck start up, and Cyrus looked back at me through the rearview mirror with a smile, before we pulled out of that parking lot. Frank and Robbie both nearly fell over from the relief, of having us gone. Especially when Kriegar took one of the bottles, threw the cap over the side, and drank a toast to them for the supplies before Cyrus gunned it and we kicked up dust going back out to the main road.

I'll know it when I see it....

I don't want to be a part of this anymore. No more of this weird guessing game, this has gone on long enough. I've got to find a way home. And fast.

© 2010 Comicality; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories 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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