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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.

Live, Love, Lose - 27. Chapter 27

Well, this chapter is even worse, so once again, you've been warned.... :(

He woke up with a terrible headache. He groaned as he sat up. He held his head with his hands. It was pounding hard. He realised he was having trouble breathing as if he was lacking oxygen.

He buried his eyes in the palms of his hands, hoping this throbbing sensation would soon vanish. He just waited, and waited for a long while. But it was still as awful. He groaned again.

What had happened?

He tried to remember how he had got there, but his mind was a blur. So he decided to take a look at his surroundings but his vision was as blurry as his mind. He touched his face and realised he didn’t have his glasses on. He groped for them, but he couldn’t find them. Great. He could suddenly feel a weight shift beside him, and someone sighing. He froze.

So he wasn’t alone. He groped for this person, and his hand ended up touching a bareback.

His heart skipped a beat.

He couldn’t have…no. he couldn’t have hooked up with that Dane. It couldn’t be possible. He felt even worse at that thought. He stood up in a flash but he only ended up on the floor, making a loud thud as he fell.

No, no, no.

Well, if he had done that, he must have been truly desperate.

He groaned again as the horrible throbbing sensation wouldn’t stop.

Could there be a sensation worse than this?

He still managed to sit up, and as his palm was press flat against the floor, he noticed that it wasn’t the fluffy carpet he was used to. No, it was hardwood.

So this meant he wasn’t in Paul’s former room.

So where was he?

“George…” he flinched slightly at the unfamiliar voice and soon enough he could feel a hand touch his back.

“Are you alright?”

What a stupid question. Whoever asked it was a real idiot.

“Do I look like I’m alright?” He snapped back.

He could sense someone rush to his side.

“Let me help you.”

The girl tried to touch him but he pushed her away.

“Look, I may not see a thing, but I’m not completely disabled.”

“Sorry… Wait, let me get you your glasses then.”

But who was that bird, for fuck’s sake?

Not long after he stood up, she put his glasses on his face, and he took one step back.

He looked at her, and his mind finally connected all the dots.

He remembered everything.

“Victoria, right?”

A soft smile appeared on her lips. She was still fully naked. He wasn’t sure what was worse between this and waking up next to that Danish bloke.

She approached him with careful steps and wrapped her arms around his neck for the third time in not even one day, but much more gently this time. And this was followed by a soft kiss on his lips. He didn’t move, nor did he feel anything. Except for the throbbing pain in his head, but this had nothing to do with her.

“I feel like puking.”

She quickly let go of him.

“Let me show you where the toilet is,” she just said, obviously looking worried for him.

She didn’t look like she was in the same poor condition as him. How come?

He just followed behind her as she led the way, and for the next fifteen minutes he threw up all the beer he had swallowed. He had never felt so bad after drinking alcohol. He had drunk much more than what he had intended.

No, actually, he already had, but only with him.

No, no, no. He had to get a grip on himself. This was neither the right place nor the right time to cry. He had to keep in mind that he had accepted to follow her only with one goal in mind.

There was a soft knock on the door. He turned his head slightly to glance at it. He stood up and went to open it. She gave him a sympathetic look.

“Are you feeling better now?”

Well, now with that taste of vomit in his mouth, she wouldn’t be willing to kiss him anymore.

“I’ve got some water in the room for you.”

She still sounded concerned, and he was still feeling as indifferent as a few seconds ago. She took his hand and led him back to the room, and he just followed her.

Where the hell was he? He couldn’t help but wonder. Was it some kind of whorehouse? Most likely.

She made him sit back on the bed before she handed him a glass of water.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

He drank it hastily so he could try to make this awful and disgusting taste disappear. She sat next to him on the bed, and stroke his upper back with one soft hand.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be feeling better soon.”

Her voice was as soft as her touch. He soon finished his glass.

“Here, let me fill it for you,” she took it from his hand and put some more water in it before handing it back to him.

That girl was rather hard to figure out.

“I thought you wanted to be the kind of woman that has the power, not the one that serves men.”

He glanced at her, and it didn’t seem to really disturb her.

“But it’s different with you. You’re not like all those men who think what I said out loud yesterday.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I may not, but I can see and feel it.”

What was she exactly? Some kind of fortune-teller or something similar to it, like a witch?

“I thought you just wanted sex.”

“That’s what you want too, don’t you?”

“Yes, so why are we even having that conversation?”

“You’re the one who started it.”

He sighed.

“Because I think you’re acting out of character for a girl that just wants some fun.”

He waited for her reply, but it didn’t come. So he waited for some more. But she just stroked his hair. It was too soft to be lustful.

“Just because we both want the same thing doesn’t mean we can’t respect each other.”

Okay. They really should stop speaking now.

He gulped down his second glass of water.

“Let’s just lay back into bed until we both feel ready,” she said as she was now tracing his jawline. “We really need some more rest.”

Well, he didn’t have anything better to do; so he just went for it.

*
They tried again that evening, they really did, but it turned out to be even worse than what happened the previous night. Because he was now sober.

Of course, he didn’t fail to notice how Victoria looked disappointed, and he didn’t even dare look her in the eye.

He lied down on the bed next to her and stared blankly at the ceiling.

“We should probably wait again…” She ended up saying after a long moment of silence, somewhat awkwardly.

Couldn’t have she just kept her mouth closed?

They waited for what seemed to be endless hours to him, but he knew time wouldn’t change anything. They could wait for five minutes, one hour, five hours, one day, one week, months or even years, it would still be the same.

He ended up sitting up and buried his face in his hands. He just wished the earth could have swallowed him up at that precise moment.

He flinched as he suddenly felt her hand on his shoulder.

“It’s alright if you can’t get hard—”

“Can’t you just shut your bloody mouth?!” He yelled. “There’s nothing alright in it!!!”

She didn’t say a thing, but he wasn’t going to stop there.

“Come on, what are you waiting for?! Go ahead! Make fun of me and of how impotent I am!!! Go meet your friends and tell them how lousy an experience it was, and have a good laugh with them, come on!!! What are you waiting for?! Get dressed and leave!!!”

She was scared, he could see it in her eyes and her body language, but he couldn’t have cared less than he did at that moment.

“Come on, get up!!!” He gripped her arm harshly and pulled on it, making her shriek. “Put your bloody clothes on!!!”

He was gripping it so hard that he was sure he would leave a marking, but again he didn’t care.

She tried to get free out of it, but he just pulled harder.

“Are you deaf or what?!”

He let go of her arm only to grip her bare shoulders and he started shaking her violently.

“So, what is it now? Where’s the confident and powerful woman?!”

“Stop!” She shrieked as she was on the verge of tears.

“Your mouth is much better at taking things in rather than delivering fine speeches.”

It seemed that she was completely paralysed now.

“Get down on your knees,” he ordered. But she didn’t make the slightest move, and this only made his fury grow.

He slapped her hard in the face.

“I said get on your knees!”

She only squealed more. She tried to step back, but he gripped her again and shook her even more violently.

“When I say something, just do it!!!”

“Stop…” she begged as she started crying.

He slapped her again, even harder this time.

“And stop blubbering! I hate crybabies!!!”

He gripped her hair and pulled it, making her cry in pain.

“I’m gonna make you get on your knees if you don’t want to.”

He then pushed and forced her to kneel down, but she just let herself fall to the floor. He let go of her hair. And she was just sobbing louder. She curled up into a ball as she was lying on the floor, her nakedness emphasising has vulnerable she currently was.

She was completely broken. The fury in him was finally starting to die down.

It wasn’t her fault if he was twisted and deviant.

He crouched down and got near her, but as he touched her she flinched.

“Come on, get up.”

He wasn’t as angry now, but he could feel that she was still afraid of him.

He helped her stand up, whether she liked it or not, and then he scanned the room carefully, grabbed her clothes and shoes, and gave them to her.

“Just put them on and leave,” he ordered.

“But she didn’t react.

“Just do it!”

She finally did as told, and got dressed hastily, but her movements were shaky and messy, probably fearing that he would slap her again if she didn’t.

She had hardly finished when he grabbed her arm again and led her towards the door.

“Leave now!”

He pushed her out of the room and slammed the door closed. His back hit it and it didn’t take him long before he collapsed on the hard floor. He started shaking uncontrollably.

What was left of anger and harshness slowly left him and was soon replaced by tears. He became a real crying mess in no time.

He couldn’t hold back the many more tears that flowed out of his eyes as the sudden realisation dawned on him.

He could never be a man.

He could never be normal.

My poor heart really cannot take it 💔;(

Please stay safe and take care ❤️

Copyright © 2021 LittleCherryBlossom26; 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.
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Even with George in mental distress it’s hard to have sympathy for him while he is lashing out at another, somewhat innocent individual.

Within the context of his mental anguish, I still feel sorry for George. He is living in a age of no tolerance for, a gay man, the sodomite; and to be declared as such may lead to quick persecution and/or extermination, depending on locale of such deviant behavior.

Therefore, he can’t truly mourn nor take comfort from those whom would normally be able to give support during such a loss as they wouldn’t know or understand. Those societal pressures just multiply the number of mental stressors George is dealing with at this time of close, personal, and intimate loss. It’s an explosive scenario and the damages are yet to be accounted or revealed.

So yes poor George, and anyone unprepared for his mental driven, explosive physical rages. So terribly sad 😢.

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Poor Victoria. She is young, idealistic and innocent.  It is hard to understand at that age that a person's personality and behaviour can radically change due to a multitude of factors.  George is an ass, but that is not who he really is normally. Nathan gave him a direction and purpose. Now his is lost, scared and feels helplessly alone.  He needs someone strong and caring to guide him out of his misery.

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