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.
Click - 1. Chapter 1
By TOM STAIK
The gentle glow of the television usually brings him solace from the racing of his mind. Tonight, though, is different.
Alex methodically switches channels as he lay awake – his feet twitching nervously under the covers.
Click. A new image.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
Click. Blackness then faces materialize.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
Click. New faces.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
Click. A car zooms across the screen.
Alex’s inner voice screams to the rapid firing sequence of obsessive thoughts running circles in the space between his ears in a near tornado-like fury.
‘Why can’t you just fucking stop!’ his mind screams.
Click. Blackness is replaced by light. More images.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
His tone grows more intense with every cycle.
Click.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
In his mind the sun is shining; the sky is clear; the birds are chirping; and he sits nervously smoking a cigarette as he watches the world move around him. Consumed by jealousy and fear he trembles. He hears a splash.
Click.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
He tries to keep his eyes focused on the ashtray in front of him. Another splash. A shiver runs through his body.
Click.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
His eyes shift. He sees them. Their hard, youthful bodies glistening in the sun. He tries to look away but can’t.
Click.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
The more he tries to look away from the pool, the harder he finds himself staring at the three men playing in the pool. ‘Fuck me,’ he thinks to himself. ‘Why the fuck is this happening to me?’
Click.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.’
‘Oh, fuck,’ Alex thinks as his sight settles to the center of the watery oasis, ‘it’s Rob.’ He can’t turn away as his traces the masculine lines of Rob’s hard-earned body with his gaze. Rob seems almost a memory of happier days, but Alex can’t place. He wishes his life to end – that God would save him from himself – but it’s not to be.
Click.
“One one-thousand,” his voice shakes. “Two one-thousand.”
Alex drops his cigarette as Rob looks towards him. ‘Fuck,’ he saw me. ‘What am I going to do?’ In a panic, he runs inside. Cold air greets him as the sliding doors shuts behind him. ‘It isn’t fair!’
Click.
Alex opens his eyes.
The glow from the television comes into focus. Tears form in his eyes.
His face tenses as he sees the image on the television.
Rage fills his mind.
The shirtless muscle man of the screen continues his workout routine before being joined by a youthful woman, her ample assets practically dripping with sex appeal.
“It isn’t fair!” he screams.
Click.
The room goes dark and he tosses the remote away.
He pulls the covers around his head.
“They don’t deserve what they have,” he opines through clenched teeth.
More tears.
“They don’t deserve it.”
A droplet rolls down his face.
“Why me?”
He turns over and curls into a ball with his face deep inside a pillow.
“Why me?” he asks again, his voice muffled by the pillow.
His breathing depends. The air flows deeply in and slowly out. In and out. In and out. Deeply. Slowly. Deeply. Slowly. As his chest slowly rises once more, Alex falls into a restless and uneasy dream.
“What the fuck do you mean?” the man asks with anger ringing in his voice.
Alex looks down at himself.
“This should help.”
His pudgy 6’2” body begins to reform. Years of abuse from lack of exercise, overeating, and hard drinking abandon his body. Fat rolls rearrange. His grotesque gut flattens. His arms gain shapely tone. Enormous thunder thighs reshape and tighten into finely arranged musculature. His drooping chins fade as his face takes on a more athletic appeal. Pasty white skin is replaced by a golden tan.
Alex smiles with satisfaction.
“Now this should be more pleasing.”
“Get the fuck away from me you fucking pervert,” Rob screams as he tries to push Alex’s idealized form away. “It doesn’t matter how good you fucking look, I’m not fucking interested.”
He makes another attempt to get away.
Alex looks down on Rob’s shorter 5’10” frame. He shakes his head and breathes deep as he closes his eyes. “I gave you a chance.”
He opens his eyes. Rob’s named form is chained against a wall.
“You’re going to learn some respect from the pain people like you cause the rest of the world you arrogant fuck.”
Rob pulls desperately at the chains. “What the fuck are you doing?!” he screams.
“Providing a lesson in humility you prick,” Alex answers as he closes his eyes.
In a sudden piercing shriek escapes Rob as his sweat-drenched body writhes in pain against the bonds. “Please don’t do this,” he desperately pleads between curdling screams of agony.
Eyes wide, Rob watches in horror as the golden hue of his skin – the gift of countless shirtless days on sun-soaked beaches – is slowly drained leaving in its wake the pasty white visage of a body rarely to see the light of day. His swells as his chiseled features take a well-rounded form as layers of fat form bellow his chin stretching his once taut skin. His attention is drawn to his now throbbing thighs – his well defined musculature is replaced by a sea of bubbling cellulose. His arms lose their definition to be replaced by sagging skin and endless stretch marks. “No,” Rob pleads with child-like desperation as the changes reach his chest and abdomen – his tight pecs droop as they fill with fat; his abdomen swells with roll upon roll of blubber.
“No. No.” Rob pleads.
Alex opens his eyes.
“Yes. Yes.” Alex laughs. “Who’s the fat fucking faggot now?” He laughs. “Try getting a girl now.”
Rob sobs uncontrollably.
“Not liking the shoe being on the other foot, now are you?”
“I don’t deserve this,” Rob cries.
“You deserve worse!” Alex screams as a wave of pain flashes through his head. “Now you’ll know…now you’ll know what it was like for me. Not able to get a girl. Too embarrassed of being fat to go outside. Being called a faggot just because of how you look. You deserve it!”
Alex grabs his head as he stumbles into the wall. His breathing ragged, he slowly slides to the ground. “You…” he struggles to utter through clenched teeth. “You deserve…”
Waking drenched in sweat and tangled in his blanket, Alex frantically leaps from his bed. His eyes dart around the room. His breathing hastens before he can finally breathe a small sigh of relief. Picking the remote from the floor, he wraps the blanket around his body like a cloak as he quickly settles back into his bed.
He closes his eyes. ‘I’ve got to get my mind under control,’ he silently muses. He breathes deep. His feet twitch from beneath the covers. He opens his eyes.
Click.
Light fills the darkness of the screen as an image materializes.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
Click. A new image.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
The cycle begins again as Alex seeks solace from the racing of his mind.
Click. Faces appear.
“One one-thousand. Two one-thousand.”
‘It just isn’t fair,’ he muses.
Click…
- 2
- 1
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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