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    Andy78
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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. 

The Lure - 1. Chapter 1

I’d tired of being the good kid. The kid who always did his homework, the kid who was never sent to the headmaster, the kid who was loved by his teachers, the kid who had never even so much as smoked a cigarette behind the bike sheds. Well damn it! I’m sixteen years old and I decided it was time to grab life by the horns and live a little.

It was prom in a few days time and I’d had the devil’s own trying to find a date. My first thought was to ask Steven Short or Darryl Chambers. Both boys are really cute, but both of them are bigger apple polishers than I am; than I was, I mean. I’d considered asking Marcus O’Callaghan, but he’s so far in the closet it isn’t even funny; and by so far in, I mean the idiot has even gone to the extremes of getting some poor girl pregnant. Then I thought about asking Chris . . . then I thought about not asking Chris . . . then I thought about asking Chris again.

Now if there was a bad boy in school it was Christopher Peters and he was the complete opposite of me. He was probably the most feared boy in school; not because he was a bully or anything, but simply because of the way he was. He was sullen and rude to the teachers but never the other kids, he swore in front of the teachers, and he had smoked since he started coming here at the age of eleven; he never even bothered to hide it, doing so openly in the playground. He was so brazen that he even started smoking in class, in full view of the teachers, as he knew they were all too afraid to say anything about it; that was what really cemented his bad boy image I think. Little did I realise at the time, there a very good reason why Chris had been allowed to get away with so much.

He’d behaved like this since he started here, and I had no idea if it was all for show, or if he really was such a bad boy. He’d been suspended over his behaviour on numerous occasions, but had never done anything to warrant expulsion, possibly the headmaster was too afraid to expel him; that also helped with his bad boy image.

As far as an anti-schoolboy goes, Chris was revered and feared; not as a god, but as The God. He was viewed as a combination of Kiefer Sutherland in ‘The Lost Boys’, Heath Ledger in ‘Ten Things I Hate About You’ and River Phoenix in ‘Stand By Me’; with just a dash of The Terminator thrown in for good measure.

The girls and the gay boys in the school fantasized about Chris, they lusted after him and wondered what it would be like to be with such a bad boy; hell some of the straight boys probably wondered as well. Chris was bad, but he was sexy as hell and he flaunted the fact he was bisexual; and why shouldn’t he? It’s not as though anybody in the school would ever have the balls to say or do anything about it. Well I for one had had enough of fantasising, and lusting, and wondering; I was going to find out what it was like to be with him, no matter what the outcome.

The day before prom I decided I had waited long enough, ‘God be with me’ I thought to myself. It was morning break and Chris was in a corner of the playground surrounded by his usual cloud of cigarette smoke. I slowly approached him.

“Er, Chris?”

He looked at me as he blew cigarette smoke out of his mouth and into my face. “What do you want, goody two shoes?”

“I was wondering . . . if perhaps . . . just on the off chance . . . maybe you -”

“Out with it already!”

“You wanna go prom with me?”

I was surprised as Chris smiled. It was the first time I ever remember him smiling. “Isn’t Darryl more your kind of boy?”

“He used to be. I’m fed up of playing the good boy. What has it gotten me? A spotless report card and the affection of my teachers. Big whoop! You do as you please and kids are in awe of you. Being one of the good kids has gotten me nothing.”

“Look . . . Timothy isn’t it?”

He knew my name! I mean, he knew me from class obviously, but to actually know my name! I was just so stunned; all I could do was nod my head.

“Timothy, you’re a nice sweet kid, but you really don’t want to get involved with me. Even for only one evening.”

“Chris. I’m sixteen years old; I think I can make that determination for myself.”

“So you really want to escort me to prom?”

“Since neither of us is a girl, I don’t know who would be escorting whom.”

“Okay, Timothy. We’ll . . .” Chris searched for the right word to use, “. . . accompany each other to prom. You must understand that there are conditions.”

“Tell me what they are Chris.”

“The first and most important. We will be going as a couple. You’ll be expected to dance with me and kiss me . . . in full view of everyone.”

“That’s not a problem. I’ve never hidden the fact I’m gay.”

“True. The second condition is that you will be expected to pick me up.”

“I can do that.”

“Third condition is that I will expect a corsage.”

“That goes without saying, Chris. Though to be honest, I didn’t think you’d be into the ‘girly’ side of prom; if you’ll forgive the term.”

“You’ll find that I’m full of surprises. Fourth and final condition.” The pause felt almost ominous; my hair stood on end and my heart was pounding; what could this final condition be that he was placing such emphasise on. “After prom you will come home with me and I’ll give you the night of your life.”

I was struck dumb at the implications of what he just said. Though if he somehow expected that to turn me off, he was way off base; that only made me even more sure of what I was doing.

“Well, Timothy? Are you able to fulfil my conditions?”

“Absolutely,” I managed to squeak out.

“Well, here’s a small taster of what you can expect tomorrow.” Chris grabbed me roughly, dragged me close to him, and in full view of everyone kissed me on the lips. Now I’d kissed boys before, but this was like being kissed by static electricity; my nerve-endings went into overdrive and my brain felt like it was short-circuiting.

When he released me, and I really do mean he released me because there was no way in heaven or hell that I was going to stop kissing him, he asked me, “So Timothy. Are you still sure you’re up for this?”

“Oh yeah. Where on earth did you learn to kiss like that?”

“Oh, I’ve been around. I’ve picked up a trick here and there. You want a cigarette?”

I thought about it, and quickly decided that since I was going to be getting down with my bad self, I may as well go the whole hog. “Sure, thanks.”

So we spent the rest of morning break in the corner smoking and chatting about prom. The rest of the day raced by and it was time for me to be heading home. I stopped by the local flower shop and bought Chris’ corsage, a mix of pink and blue roses; I just hoped he didn’t think it was too girly.

Later on that evening Mum was getting dinner ready. She opened the fridge and found my corsage.

“Honey,” she called out to me, “I take it you found someone to take to prom tomorrow.”

I walked into the kitchen. “How did you know that? You’re not psychic are you?”

“Don’t be silly. I found the corsage in the fridge. So, who is he?”

“It’s a boy from school.”

“Ooh. Is it Darryl? He’s such a nice boy?”

“No, it’s Chris.”

“Chris? Not Christopher Peters?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Oh my baby boy. What madness has taken hold of you? Of all the boys you could have taken.” Little did I know at the time, that Mum was actually being deadly serious.

“Come on Mum. He’s not all that bad.”

“Yes he is. That boy is one step away from prison.”

“Don’t exaggerate Mum. I know he’s been suspended a few times, but he’s never done anything near serious enough to warrant being expelled. Has he?”

“I suppose you’re right. I still don’t like it though.”

“Well, when I asked him he set down a few conditions and one of them really surprised me.”

“What was that? I hope it was nothing outrageous or dangerous.”

“Mum, who do you think the corsage is for?”

The look on her face was priceless; true not as priceless as if I had told her about condition number four.

“Chris wanted a corsage?”

“Even more than that. He has made it clear, that I’m to pick him up on the way.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I’ll see if he will consent to having a picture taken.”

The next evening, I left home in the limo I had rented for the occasion, and as agreed, I picked up Chris on the way. I put the corsage on his wrist and he nodded his approval. Since we lived quite a way from school, we used the privacy of the back of the limo to spend the time kissing and groping each other. I felt that same sensory overload again as he forced his tongue into my mouth. Now I’m not submissive by nature, but for some reason I was happy to allow Chris to dominate me.

The limo pulled up outside of school about fifteen minutes later. We both got out, straightened our hair and tuxedos, and went into the gymnasium, which was where prom had been set up.

We danced, we cuddled, we kissed, we held hands, all in view of everyone as we had agreed; I even felt him pat my butt more than once as the evening progressed.

Once prom was over, we got back into the limo and headed to Chris’; I had already told Mum that I wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. I’d told her that a group of us were planning to carry on the party at Maxine Rochester’s house and were all going to crash there; Mum likes and trusts the Rochester’s, so she didn’t even bother to check with them.

Chris opened his front door and led me into the living room.

“Now Timothy, are you ready for what will happen tonight?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

“Do you want a drink?”

“I could drink a beer if you’ve got one?”

He handed me a can of beer from the fridge and opened one for himself. He then pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Want one, Timothy?”

“Yeah, thanks,” I said, taking the proffered cigarette and lighter. “So Chris, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, ask away?”

“Are you really a bad boy, or is it just some kind of persona for use at school?”

“No persona, Timothy. I’m a very bad boy, as you are about to find out.”

He took me by the hand and led me upstairs to his bedroom.

I woke up the next morning and felt better than I’d ever felt before. Chris was certainly no boaster; he did a lot more than give me the night of my life as he had promised, my poor brain felt like it was on fire from trying to make sense of the pleasure he was giving me. Neurons were firing faster than possible, my brain drowned in the volume of endorphins that had been produced and my nerve endings still tingled. After last night, after Chris, everything and everyone is going to seriously pale in comparison.

I found a note on the bed next me, with my name on. Chris had evidently had to run some errand or some such thing, and didn’t want to wake me.

 

Timothy,

I never set out to hurt you; you need to know that. All night long, I tried to control myself, but in the end, I couldn’t. I selfishly gave into my desires, and yours.

You’ve wondered how I could get away with so much at school; the truth is I’m not exactly human. Well, the body is human, the physical ‘Chris’, you see and desire. But me? I have no name that is my own. I am the ‘bad boy’ you were drawn to; the side of ‘Chris’ who was rude to the teachers, the part of Chris who delighted in smoking in class and seeing the teachers tremble and the part of Chris who dared our headmaster to expel me.

All of the adults of the town know who and what I truly am, but they do not talk about it. They do not talk about it, thanks to an ancient magic that protects this entire town. I have never been cruel to the children at school and I have never been physically violent to anyone, because I am unable to be; as they are protected by the magic.

I, and my kind, have existed since time immemorial. We were a plague upon this world and wrought untold suffering upon its population. Around 400 BC an Egyptian sorcerer finally succeeded in binding us; though that binding, that protective magic, was only able to be bestowed conditionally.

The adults fear me because of the potential threat I pose; sadly, the threat that I posed to you, and now the threat I have made you. There are two ways that the protective magic of the ancient sorcerers can be broken. Either, if one of the adults reveals the truth about me, in which case the protective magic is broken for the entire town, or if one of the townspeople pursues me romantically, in which case, the protective magic for that one individual is broken. Your mother could not warn you, without destroying the protective magic for the entire town. She was faced with risking your life, versus the lives of the five thousand people who live here; I hope you will someday be able to forgive her.

I also hope you will one day be able to forgive me. I should have fed on you; it would have been far more merciful than what I have done. Through my misguided love for you, and the misguided hope that after countless aeons, I had finally found someone who might love me in return, I have passed an ancient curse onto you; the same ancient curse that I have lived with since before the disappearance of Atlantis.

I, and now you, am as close to being immortal and invulnerable as it possible to become, without actually becoming a god. You are now free to do whatever you want to, however you want to, to whom and with whom you want to. You are no longer bound by the laws of the humans or of nature. You can choose how you appear to the rest of the world; you can be a child, a teenager, an old man, or anything in between. You can choose to appear to age or not; it’s your choice. There are no special rules to think about; you don’t need to worry about sunlight, or garlic, or a stake through the heart. You can eat whatever you like and drink whatever you like. You can smoke, drink alcohol or takes drugs without worrying about any potential damaging effects; you also cannot contract any contagious disease. For all this which I have given you, and for which I am truly sorry, the only things you are not able to do, not now and not ever is cause physical harm to another, or more importantly, to return home. Your mother knows what you have become, as does the rest of the town, but nobody remembers the human you were; it is a consequence of the magic.

If you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me for passing this curse onto you, just say my name aloud, and I will join you. We will live out the rest of eternity together and I promise that I will love you; for I am capable of great love, as well as great evil, just like you are now.

Please, call my name soon

Eternally yours

Christopher Peters

Copyright © 2012 Andy78; 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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Hi Andy, I love the way you write, this was a great story. I’ll be thinking about it for a while to come. 

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