Truths and Lies - 30. The Doctor Is In

Morgan and Derek were still waiting for their ride and Jesse was standing at the bus stop when my mom picked me up. I’d already told her that Morgan wanted me to come over and work on some strategies for the game on Thursday, and she had readily agreed. It was clear that she saw Morgan as the ‘right’ kind of friend, the earnest but sensitive jock, a ‘normal’ boy with whom she felt a sense of comfort. And Jesse...I knew she had apprehensions about him, but to her credit, she seemed more than willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, or at least a second chance. I had to be grateful to her for that. Since she knew nothing about our ravenous sexual appetites for one another, the simple admonishment that we shouldn’t see each other outside of school until after the Christmas break was surely nothing more than a token punishment in her eyes.

Morgan had suggested that I go home and clean up first. I told my mom I’d ride my bike over to the Kipner’s. She was worried that it would be dark by the time I left, but I reminded her that it was only a few blocks, all within the comfy limits of our well-lit community of Coronado Hills. Besides, I was fourteen now and more than capable of crossing the street without an adult holding my hand.

I decided to go for a quick shower. I for sure needed to do something! I’d been going crazy all last night and today, trying to imagine how I was going to deal with what Morgan wanted to do. He seemed distant today at lunch and I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination or not, but so did Jesse. I think he really was worried about me despite his assurances that I was doing the right thing. I had the feeling that this situation was wrong. Morgan was straight and I was certain he wanted to keep it that way as much as I did.

I kept seeing that worried look on Morgan’s long, expressive face, kept thinking about that afternoon in my bedroom when he had unintentionally hit me. Damn—this was all because of me! I was somehow messing up his life in a big way and I felt terrible about it. I would do this thing he wanted no matter how uncomfortable I was with it. But then what? Would Morgan just pat me on the head for a job well done and everything would then go back to the way it was at the beginning of the school year? It seemed that if he had sexual feelings for me, and if those feelings were anything even remotely like what I felt for Jesse—the insatiable physical desire combined with a deep sense of friendship and loyalty—then it would be hard to walk away. He might want to do this more often, turn it into a regular thing: me jacking him off, him jacking me off. Where and when would it end? I was also worried how would it affect his relationship with Katy. She deserved Morgan’s full attention.

I dressed in a long sleeved, light gray Calvin Klein T-shirt made of super soft cotton and a little spandex, with a black collar and black trim on the sleeves and tails. The only thing was that the spandex made it a bit clingy and I wondered if I might be leading Morgan on somehow by wearing something that so clearly showed off my skinny torso. But then I realized what a ludicrous thought that was. Whatever Morgan’s problem was, it had a lot more to do with stuff in his own head than it did with me and my actual physical appearance. No matter what time of the day or night, no matter how wide awake or tired, how buoyant or despondent, no matter in what mirror I looked—big, small, public or private, I was always the same skinny, brown haired, plain ol’ Perry Thompson I’d always been. It didn’t matter what Tom or Gary, or Jessica said. If Jesse saw something in me, then it was something deep down inside. I smiled, remembering what he had said about my soul belonging only to him. Yeah...that was cool.

As I pulled on my socks and stuffed my legs into my Levi’s, I wondered yet again what it was about me specifically that attracted Morgan in such an unusual way. I was his lesser in nearly every way—especially physically. I did a little better than him in academics, but he was intelligent, and he enjoyed reading for fun—which was more than you could say about most jocks, and he far outshone me in his athletic skills. He was a take-charge kind of guy while I hated to make decisions or bear the responsibility of guiding others. It was a real puzzle to me, more so than any of the other relationships I had become involved in. While I had to accept that Tom, who truly felt that he was gay, had real and deep feelings for me, feelings that somehow touched his soul but not mine, but I somehow didn’t think that was where Morgan was coming from. I didn’t think he was gay or even bi. He exuded straightness, and if he had been a little shy with Melissa that summer before the seventh grade, well...who could blame him? She had blossomed early and her hormones had rocketed to full strength while most of the rest of us were just becoming aware that our bodies (and priorities) were starting to change. And yet, Morgan’s interest in jacking me off was clearly more than a casual thing. Nor was it a simple question of reciprocity. He saw something especially in me that aroused sexual feelings in him, and I think that frightened him as much as it did me.

I put on my Northwestern hoodie (feeling that I was taking a little bit of Jesse along with me), and got my bike out of the garage. I noticed my helmet felt a little loose since I had gotten a haircut. While it had felt good to do it at the time, I had to admit that I actually missed that shaggy mop of wavy brown chaos, and I was determined to let it grow back over the Christmas break and beyond.

It was less than a ten minute bike ride to the Kipners, but it was pretty much all uphill and I felt winded as well as refreshed as I pulled into the empty driveway. There were a couple of nice looking racing bikes up against the garage, and right on cue, Dumbbell began barking from the backyard as I put my bike alongside the others, preferring to lean it up against the garage wall rather than using the kickstand. Morgan had already stepped out of the kitchen door by the time I got my helmet off. I left it dangling on one of the handle bars. He had on a white YMCA T-shirt, loose fitting, faded blue jeans, and his well-worn Airwalks.

“Hey, Per. I was getting worried there that maybe you uh...changed your mind or something,” Morgan noted, his dark eyebrows knit tightly over his close set, dark green eyes.

“Sorry, I just felt like grabbing a quick shower first.”

“No problem,” he said with a weak smile.

It was a little weird actually entering the Kipner abode for the first time since having that wild dream about Derek and his blackmail scheme. But it all looked much the same as it had the last time I had been over here to shoot hoops. Man, had that been way back in June?

“Can I get you anything?” Morgan asked, opening the stainless steel Subzero and poking his head in.

I felt like a Coke but figured I didn’t need the extra jolt of caffeine right now—I was already feeling jittery enough!

“Some Gatorade?” he asked when I didn’t respond right away.

“Uh...no, maybe just some cold water.”

“Here,” he said, handing me a cold bottle of Sparkletts. I was tempted to instruct him to just go ahead and pour it over my head. I chugged about half of it down immediately, feeling unusually thirsty after my short uphill bike ride. He grabbed a bottle of blue Gatorade and headed into the house. As we walked through the large, high ceilinged living room, I noted the family portrait over the wall, dominated by the imposing figure of a smiling, mustached Mr. Kipner looking slightly uncomfortable in his suit and tie, a well coifed Mrs. Kipner, a relatively short and stout woman compared to her husband, dressed in her Sunday best, the pleasant and kind face of Morgan’s older sister, Allison, lean and nicely tanned, framed by long, dark brown hair that laid flat against her head and curled at the shoulders, Morgan looking confident and athletic despite the monkey suit, and of course, bright-eyed Derek, looking like he could barely sit still long enough for a serious portrait. I was surprised when we walked past the large, curving staircase, since I knew his bedroom was upstairs.

“Um...where are we going?” I asked, trying not to sound overly nervous.

“Oh, uh, My dad’s home office—he hardly ever uses it.”

He stopped in front of a closed door of highly polished dark wood.

“Are you sure it’s okay to use your dad’s room?” I asked, wondering why he wanted to jack me off in such an unusual venue.

“Per...uh.... This is gonna seem pretty weird.” Morgan began hesitantly.

That was, so far, the understatement of the day. I just waited impassively to hear what he had to say, stifling the urge to giggle like a mental patient.

“I...we...that is, Jesse and me, we came up with this idea...sorta like a game.”

“A game?” That did sound like Jesse! How I wished that he was here!

“Yeah, well, like.... It’s like we’re going into a therapy session,” he explained awkwardly.

“You mean we’re gonna talk about our feelings and stuff?”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, something like that...only, well...I don’t know if you’ll like it or not....” His voice trailed off guiltily.

I didn’t see how pretending to go to a therapy session was going to lead to Morgan doing what I knew he wanted to do, but for now, I was letting him call the shots. As Jesse had told me, I would just speak up if I thought things were going in a bad direction, confident that Morgan would never do anything to me against my will. Even as I recalled Jesse’s words, I felt the sting on my cheek where Morgan had smacked me.

“I’m totally here for you,” I assured him. “You’re my friend and I just want to make everything good between us.”

Morgan nodded and offered a shaky smile. “Yeah, I want that too. I want...a lot of things.... It’s been really hard, living with all these feelings and crazy ideas.”

What did he mean by crazy ideas?!

“But if you’re ready....”

Now I understood why we were going to his dad’s office. That would fit with the therapy idea.

“What do I have to do?”

Morgan shrugged. “Just be yourself. The best thing is if you’re just totally truthful about everything.... I’m gonna be...gonna try to be...honest with you.”

“Okay,” I agreed hesitantly, still wondering what this all had to do with Morgan’s desire to give me a hand job. Maybe he had abandoned the idea, or Jesse had been able to talk him out of it. That would be such a relief. We’d just sit and tell each other how we felt, maybe have a nice hug—yeah, I liked hugs just fine—and then shoot some hoops before it got too dark outside.

Morgan opened the door and went in first. I followed, noting first the dark wood paneling on the walls and darker wood moldings along the ceiling. The floor was carpeted in a springy maroon berber, and the furniture was all dark, padded leather. Behind the large, uncluttered desk...behind the desk!

“Jesse!”

It was definitely like a scene out of the Twilight Zone, when Jesse, dressed in a white, long sleeved, button down shirt and conservative dark tie, came over to me with a very fake looking smile on his beautiful face.

“Good afternoon Morgan. I presume this is the friend you’ve been telling me about—Perry?”

“Ah, yeah...uh...Doctor Taylor. This is my friend, Perry Thompson. Perry, this is Doc Taylor.” Morgan spoke like he knew his lines but was feeling very self-conscious about reciting them.

My head was really spinning now. What was Jesse doing here? He was supposed to be tutoring, and more importantly, we weren’t supposed to see each other outside of school! What if one of our moms found out?!

“Jesse...you’re not...I mean, we’re not, I mean,” I stuttered stupidly.

“You can call me Jesse if you like, although surprisingly, most people prefer the formal title for some reason,” Jesse noted in a calm, professional sounding voice, staying perfectly in character.

All right, I told myself, Jesse was here. That was great, wasn’t it? He’d keep Morgan from freaking out, and maybe help us all get to the bottom of this strange problem of his. I had to trust that Jesse knew what he was doing, and had made the appropriate arrangements so that he—or I—wouldn’t get in any trouble over this.

“Don’t you have tutoring today?” I asked confusedly, not quite ready to jump into this little fantasy head first.

“Um...everything’s just fine,” Jesse assured me, half in, and half out of character. He gave me a confident, playful wink. “Now why don’t you boys just have a seat. We have a lot to cover in our session today.” I noted he was still wearing his black school pants and Vans sneakers, but he still looked totally hot!

I surveyed the room more thoroughly now, noting the closed wooden blinds on the windows behind Mr. Kipner’s oak paneled desk, that still let in a little of the quickly diminishing late afternoon light. Otherwise, there was a stylish lamp on the desk, and a couple of sconces on the wall, giving the paneled and carpeted room a warm but professional feeling. There was a big, puffy sofa against the other wall along with some plaques and awards. Photos of Mr. Kipner shaking hands with various important-looking people, one of him and Morgan decked out in their hunting regalia, and a big painting of a heavily antlered buck racing through the woods helped to emphasize the masculine character of the room. Opposite the door we had entered through was an open doorway that led into a short hall with a double doored closet along one wall and a half-open door that probably lead to a bathroom. At the end of the short corridor was a solid-looking door with a deadbolt that probably led out to the backyard...and Dumbbell.

Morgan gestured toward the sofa and waited for me to sit before he sat a comfortable distance from me. There was a thick and heavy wooden coffee table in front of the sofa, strewn with various trade magazines covering contracting, remodeling, and architecture.

“So, let’s get started,” Jesse said, sitting back down in the leather padded swivel chair behind the large desk, looking small and child-like in his starched white shirt and tie, his long, shiny blond hair spilling over the collar. He seemed relatively relaxed considering the strangeness of the situation, but I knew Jesse liked to play these kinds of fantasy games and in that sense, he was in his element.

“Now Perry, I don’t want you to be distressed by this, but Morgan has talked about you a great deal through the course of our sessions. He thinks very highly of you, not just as a friend, but as a human being. He sees characteristics in you that he greatly admires...envies even.”

Morgan, with his elbows locked, his hands gripping his knees, sat near the edge of the sofa, leaning slightly forward. I had no idea if Morgan had ever gotten involved in a role playing game on the serious level that Jesse liked to play them. He certainly didn’t look comfortable, but he had plenty of reasons for that! For my part, I felt like I was on camera or something, and wasn’t quite sure where to look or what to do with my hands. It was so confusing to suddenly see Jesse here, dressed the way he was, when I had just seen him less than an hour ago, wearing his St. Boniface hoodie, backpack slung over one shoulder, waiting for his bus. Now he was looking at us as Dr. Taylor: relaxed, sophisticated—a confident professional in total control of the situation. I wondered if we really would be able to talk honestly about some of the things that were going on, or if someone would start having a giggling fit at some point and cause the whole illusion to collapse. But so far, the mood seemed tense, and I certainly didn’t feel like laughing, so I figured I would make the best of it and see what I could learn from this ‘therapy’ session.

“Now you should know a couple of things from the get go, Perry,” Jesse explained leisurely. “First, it is of paramount importance that you always speak the truth, regardless of whether it feels uncomfortable, or you’re afraid it will give offense, or even if it’s just plain weird. Honesty is the foundation of everything we do here. Without it, everything else is just a house of cards. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “Yeah, sure...uh...Doctor Taylor.” Oh no! I was starting to smile! Doctor Taylor—gees!

“And the second thing is, I’m known in some professional circles for using some rather...unconventional, but highly effective techniques to achieve breakthroughs with my patients. I hope you will keep an open mind and remember above all else, that we are here to help Morgan deal with some very strong, difficult, and even conflicting feelings...most of which focus on you.”

“Okay...I understand,” I assured him, realizing that Jesse was actually being serious. We were playing a game, but as he reminded me, we were also here to somehow help Morgan. I had to keep that in the front of my mind, regardless of what went on here today.

“Just so you know, Perry, Morgan told me all about the afternoon he came to your house, got uh...slightly inebriated, and insisted that you engage in some rather mild sexual interplay.”

I blushed, even though it was Jesse. I wasn’t sure handling Morgan’s massive dick and watching him spray his seminal fluids right up to his nostrils constituted mild sexual interplay.

“And he told me that, when you refused to allow him to reciprocate, he lost his temper for a brief moment and struck you. Is that pretty much how you would describe it?”

I nodded mutely, then added: “I don’t think he really meant to hurt me.”

“Good, then. Now the first thing I want you boys to do, is come and stand in front of the table.”

Jesse waited patiently, elbows on the desk, his chin resting on his steepled fingers, as Morgan and I got up and came around the stocky piece of furniture.

“Now, I want you to turn your backs to each other.” Jesse waited while we complied. I ended up staring at the closed door through which we had come. Had Morgan locked it after we came in? I thought he had, but I wasn’t certain. A little shiver of fear coursed through my body as I imagined some member of Morgan’s family suddenly popping in unannounced.

“I want you to take turns saying something positive about each other, something pertaining to a nonphysical attribute. Morgan, why don’t you go first?”

“Well...um...” Morgan said, sounding like he really was in a therapy session and while feeling tense and uncomfortable, also trying his best to be earnest. “Perry’s always thinking about others—how he can help his friends and stuff.”

“Good...okay—Perry?”

“Morgan always points out other people’s achievements before his own...like on the basketball team.”

“Ah yes...the basketball,” Jesse mused. “Good, good. Morgan?”

“Perry seems to be able to get along with anybody. Almost everyone likes him.”

“That’s actually two things, but certainly related. Well done. Perry?”

“Morgan was the first person to go out of his way and befriend me when I came to St. Boniface last year.”

“Yes, that’s something we have discussed in our sessions here,” Jesse affirmed. “That went very well. Now, I’d like you boys to turn and face each other...but stay a good ten feet apart or so.”

Morgan and I turned and stepped further apart, and for some reason, it was really hard to look each other in the eye.

“I want you to both take off your shirts, please,” Jesse requested.

Okay, now this was getting weird. But even as I hesitated, Morgan grabbed the loose tails of his T-shirt and lifted it up over his head, exposing his smooth, evenly muscled torso.

“Um...is this really necessary?” I asked squeamishly.

“Actually,” Jesse said, his gaze fixating on me even though Morgan was now stunningly half naked, “neither one of you has to do anything. Requests will be made. Approaches will be tried, but if you say the word, it will all come to an immediate and unequivocal end.”

I realized that what he meant was that I could say ‘no’ any time I wanted, but that would mean the end for Morgan as well. And wasn’t the whole reason we were here to help Morgan through his feelings and problems? I pulled the Northwestern hoodie over my head and tossed it back on the sofa along with Morgan’s T-shirt. I again hesitated as I saw that Morgan was now staring at me intently from across the room.

“That’s a very handsome shirt, Perry,” Dr. Taylor noted pleasantly.

“Thanks,” I muttered. Moving as quickly as I could to get it over with, I pulled my T-shirt over my head and tugged the clinging sleeves down my arms. I felt the slightly cool air brush my chest and back as I tossed the shirt over with the other stuff.

“It would be good if you could also remove your necklace for now,” Jesse noted gently.

He was referring to my crucifix, of course. That was an interesting request, and I didn’t imagine it had anything to do with Morgan. I wondered if it was because it had been a gift from Jessica? I didn’t know why I had even bothered putting it on after my shower. Just habit I guess. At least I had left the friendship band that usually clung to my left ankle all day, at home. I unclasped the thin chainlink and laid it on the coffee table, before resuming my position facing Morgan. I was now naked from the waist up except for my wristwatch.

“Now I’d like you to take turns remarking on each other’s physical attributes. These can be as subjective or specific as you’d like. Just be honest. Perry, why don’t you go first?”

My brain kept switching from nervousness to fright to giddiness, sometimes all in the matter of a few heartbeats. Jesse was doing such a good job pretending to be a therapist, with his steady inflection, clinical detachment, and all the appropriate sounding lingo, that it was making the whole situation feel unsettlingly real.

“Well...uh...Morgan has a great physique...I wish I looked like that!”

Morgan seemed really touched by this compliment and I saw his eyes get a little watery. “You-you’re...” he stammered in a barely audible voice, “you’re so beautiful, Perry.”

“Morgan, can you clarify what you mean by that?” Jesse asked, as if what he had just heard was nothing more than par for the course.

Morgan nodded, still staring at me intensely. I had to constantly resist the urge to cross my arms over my bare chest.

“Perry just seems like...like the perfect boy. Everything about him is so stunning...his hair, his eyes, his nose, his mouth...And it just keeps going...His shoulders, his arms, his hands—”

“Okay, we get the picture,” Jesse said a bit impatiently. “Perry, what do you think of Morgan’s perspective?”

“I don’t get it,” I admitted without hesitation, because it was totally true. There was nothing perfect or beautiful about me. I was plain, and nothing more. Vanilla! White Bread! Tap water!

“You don’t think you’re physically attractive?” What a strange question to be coming from the mouth of my beautiful blond angel.

I shook my head and cast my eyes to the carpeted floor. I stared, admiring my new skater sneaks, big, puffy, dark grey Etnies with blue trim and fat, light gray laces...very, very cool.

“So you’re saying that Morgan is wrong? That he’s not seeing what he thinks he’s seeing?”

“Huh? Um...” I shrugged helplessly. “I guess...something like that,” I muttered self-consciously.

“Perry, is it possible that you’re the one who’s making an error in judgment? That in fact, Morgan is correct in his asessment—minus the hyperbole perhaps.”

Well, I wasn’t even sure what the heck that meant! “I thought we were here to help Morgan,” I noted dully.

“True, but isn’t it possible that an important part of the solution would be for you to understand where he’s coming from?”

“I guess.” I was starting to really feel like I was in a therapy session now, like the ones we went to at the Catholic Ministries Office in La Jolla after my dad first admitted he was having an affair. Of course, the Church frowned on divorce, and did everything it could to help its members to try and work things out. Those had been long, interminable one hour sessions that had been filled with heavy silences, empty words, and hopeless sighs. I had come to realize quickly, as young as I was, that my parents’ marriage was dissolving right before my eyes, and sitting with a pleasant, gray haired, soft-spoken priest named Father Bertram, for an hour a week wasn’t going to make anything better. I was starting to get the same feeling here, even though this was all fake, and I was actually standing in a room with two of my best friends, one of whom happened to be my soulmate as well.

“Morgan, are there any other boys, or males in your life that you are attracted to in the same way as you are to Perry?”

“No...it’s only him,” Morgan declared resolutely.

“I see...Well, suffice it to say that I find this case extremely intriguing,” Jesse noted with just the right touch of clinical enthusiasm. “I think we should proceed to the next stage.”

“Can I...uh...put my shirt back on now?” I asked sheepishly, finally giving into temptation and wrapping my arms around myself.

“Well, actually, since we are moving into the next phase of our session today, I think I’ll leave that up to Morgan.”

“Please Perry,” Morgan said in a pinched, urgent voice, “don’t feel self-conscious or anything like that. I really meant what I said. I like seeing you like this.”

I just looked away.

“You gotta understand that it’s really hard for me to say these things...out loud,” Morgan admitted quietly.

I hadn’t really thought about that, how hard it was for Morgan to talk about another boy that way. He didn’t see himself as gay and obviously didn’t want anyone thinking that way about him, but still, he was trying his best to be absolutely truthful. And Jesse had said at the outset, that honesty was the cornerstone of everything we were doing. Now I was starting to think Doctor Taylor wasn’t as ridiculous sounding as I had first thought!

“I’m sorry, Morgan. I’m being a total dick. I was just thinking about myself...Please, forgive me?” I asked, finally managing to once again lock gazes with him.

“Oh man...” Morgan uttered emotionally. He dabbed at his eyes with his bare arm, and then looked at Jesse, as if to confirm something. Jesse offered a half smile and nodded. Morgan came up and gently pulled my arms back down to my sides. Then he rubbed his large, sweaty hands over my shoulders and forearms. “You rock; you totally rock!” he said, running his fingers through my hair. Next his warm and clammy hands pressed firmly against my cheeks and a tentative smile was growing on his long, sad face, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly. He suddenly pulled me in and embraced me fully, his arms wrapped around my bare back, palms spread over my shoulder blades, pressing our bare chests and bellies together, and even our denim-clad crotches. He buried his face in the curve of my neck, and then leaned his cheek on my shoulder. “I love you, man. I fuckin’ love you.”

Funny, but that didn’t sound as weird as it should have. Maybe it was because Morgan had been my first and best friend right up to the time that Jesse came blowing into my life like a Category 5 hurricane. Maybe it was because Morgan’s voice was so choked with emotion that there was no conceivable way for the words to be false. The other thing I knew instinctively, was that we weren’t talking soulmates here, just a close bond of friendship that had somehow morphed into something strangely and unexpectedly sexual in nature. If that was the case, maybe there was a way to work through this and come out again as close friends.

“Perry, would you like to respond?” Jesse asked quietly, the quiver in his voice suggesting that he was also moved by Morgan’s emotional declaration.

“Um, well...” I said, trying to ignore the fact that our flesh was pressed together in such an intimate way, “I really like Morgan too—a lot. I admire his athletic skills and—”

“But Morgan said he loved you,” Jesse pointed out. “How do you respond to that?”

I gently pushed Morgan back a few steps so I had some breathing room. His eyes were moist and there was a shaky, awkward smile plastered on his face, making him look frighteningly vulnerable. What could I say that wouldn’t hurt his feelings?

“Morgan’s my friend. I’ll do whatever he wants so that he...feels better about stuff.”

“I see,” Jesse mused, sounding slightly disappointed by my response. “Very well then. This brings us to another issue, one that perhaps bears some scrutiny. The fact that Morgan is a boy, and that he has strong feelings for you, might be difficult for you to handle, Perry,” Jesse said in a lecturing type voice, “but the fact is, it’s just as difficult, or even more so, for Morgan himself. He believes these kinds of feelings—these intense feelings of sexuality focused on you and your physical form, are wrong. He feels that, not only do they go against the mores of Catholicism and society in general, but against his own personal view of who he is.”

“It bothers me that I feel this way about you,” Morgan clarified worriedly.

“Of course. I understand,” I told him sympathetically. Why couldn’t we put our shirts back on and just talk about this? It was so weird to be standing in Mr. Kipner’s office, with all his photos on the wall, and even the faint smell of cigar smoke brushing my nostrils, the two of us half naked, with Jesse sitting pompously behind a desk dressed in a shirt and tie.

Morgan looked at me skeptically, but I think I really was beginning to get the picture. He wasn’t like Tom, who had made up his mind about who and what he was and had made some sort of peace with himself, or even Gary, who had already had an emotional and sexual experience with a boy in the past. This was a guy who had been brought up to appreciate the manly things in life: competitive sports, hunting, probably a little brewski now and then, and a pretty girl on your arm. His father, an imposing physical presence, was clearly against the whole idea of homosexuality and had no tolerance for it in his life. And then, along comes stupid little me, with my dad’s face, forever dazed and confused, fucking his brain up, turning everything he believed about himself upside down.

“I’m so sorry, Morgan,” I apologized helplessly. “I’m so sorry I did this to you.”

“God Almighty, Perry, you didn’t do anything to me, “ Morgan said, the smile still on his face. “I’m the one who fell for you. All you did was be yourself. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

He seemed quite sure about that, but I was no longer so certain. Maybe there was something wrong with being me! Something about my stupid eyes, or my insecurities about my stupid body, or even my constant worrying about my friends and family and how I should interact with them, some thing that was giving people the totally wrong impression about me. While I would never call myself blatantly ugly, I knew my physical appearance was nothing out of the ordinary. I knew ‘hot’ when I saw it, and right now, the very definition was sitting gloriously incarnate behind Mr. Kipner’s big oak desk, with a white collar and navy blue tie, looking good enough to lick off a stick!

“Yes, there’s absolutely nothing to blame yourself for, Perry. And the same goes for you, Morgan,” Jesse, rather, Doctor Taylor, pointed out. “The fact is that Perry is an exceptionally handsome young man, and the fact is, Morgan, you really are drawn to him in the physical sense of the word. The good thing is that you’ve acknowledged that, both to me and to Perry. That is the key to everything.”

“So you think you can help me?” Morgan asked, and it sounded like he really believed for the moment that Jesse was indeed a real honest to goodness psychologist and that there really was a chance that he could somehow be ‘cured’ of these strange and undesirable feelings.

“Morgan, the fact that you and Perry are here today, and talking about these things, even connecting emotionally and physically, is a sign that something good is happening here. This is simply something that has to be dealt with. There is no shame in it, no right or wrong, no magic ‘cure.’ Do you understand that...both of you?”

Man, Jesse was smart! It seemed like he had everything wrapped up with a bow. From where I was standing, it was time for Jesse to rip off his shirt and tie and come around that desk for a big hug and a wet kiss and...and...a bunch of other fun stuff!

“But we digress slightly,” Jesse noted in a calmer, more clinical voice. “The thing that most concerns me at the moment, is Morgan’s response to his own feelings. This is clearly not a good thing, and something that needs to be dealt with, agreed?”

Morgan nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide with hope and anticipation.

“Let’s proceed with an...experiment, I guess you might call it, something Morgan and I discussed in some detail during our last session. You see, Perry, you have a very warm, but submissive personality, while Morgan, who obviously has strong leadership characteristics, has something of a dominant, but essentially non-egotistical personality. What we want to try here today, is to take that dichotomy of personality traits, pare them down to their essentials, and move this scenario into the realm of fantasy—wish fulfillment if you’d like.”

“Fantasy?” I asked skeptically, wondering if Jerrin, the Boy From Another Dimension, was about to make a sudden appearance.

Jesse nodded. “Exactly. We’re going to take those two aspects and grossly exaggerate them. Morgan, you will be totally dominant, and Perry, you will be totally submissive.”

“I don’t get it,” I admitted. I thought we were already playing out a fantasy.

“There is an opportunity here for Morgan to play out some of his deepest fantasies, and hopefully, by doing that, come to understand, and even make peace with some of the confusing feelings he’s been experiencing. Now Perry, you need to understand once again, that no one’s going to make you do anything you really don’t want to do, okay?”

I nodded hesitantly.

“The way this is normally handled in a typical S & D scenario, is for there to be something called a safe word. This would be a totally crystal clear signal for Perry to declare that he’s had enough—he wants to stop, at which point, Morgan, you must comply. Do you both understand?”

Morgan nodded and glanced at me nervously.

“Safe word?” I asked.

“Sure,” Jesse said with a gentle smile playing across his face. “Some word or very simple phrase that wouldn’t come up in normal conversation, something whose meaning in this situation would be perfectly clear. Does anything come to mind?”

“Uh...no....”

“Well, let me make a suggestion then: Kingcarver.”

“Oh, that’s the—”

Jesse nodded smugly, “Yes, the name of a very popular video game. I do have kids you know!”

When he said that, my first reaction was to open my mouth in disbelief. Then I kicked myself in the head, remembering that this was all a gag! Shit, Jesse was good!

“Okay...Kingcarver,” I said, repeating the word in its new context as a ‘safe word.’

“So Morgan, you are being given a unique opportunity here to truly indulge your deepest, most intimate fantasies. Granted, we have already established some clear boundaries in our previous discussion, and I do reserve the right to intervene at any point if I feel the experiment is not proceeding in a healthy way, understood?”

Morgan nodded.

“So having said that, I think we can begin. Morgan, I’d like you to speak out loud as much as possible, telling us clearly what you want to do or what you want Perry to do. Even though you are the dominant partner in this scenario, you are to treat your sub with the utmost respect at all times, even if the intent of your fantasy is to cause discomfort or even pain.”

“What?!” I asked fearfully.

“I assure you, I will be monitoring the situation closely,” Jesse said in a calm voice. “And remember, you have your safe word. Don’t use it unless you’re absolutely certain you don’t want to proceed, because that will be the end of the experiment. Is that clear?”

“Uh...yeah...sure...” I said, my heart rate starting to increase as my mind raced, trying to anticipate what sort of fantasies Morgan had about me other than wanting to jack me off.

Morgan looked me up and down and I again felt the strongest urge to wrap my arms across my bare chest, but instead, I hooked my thumbs into the tops of my jean pockets, trying futiley to look casual and relaxed.

“Perry, take off your shoes and socks,” he said in a tense, husky voice.

I immediately recalled Morgan kneeling before me in my bedroom, peeling off my socks, and tickling my feet, trying to entice me into engaging in a jack off session with him. I hoped that wasn’t what he had in mind today. It was pretty clear to me now that when people touched my feet, it made me hard regardless of how I was feeling. It was just some weird autosexual reaction. Kingcarver flashed through my mind, but I dismissed it quickly when I saw Morgan looking at me with an expression that was a potent mixture of guilt and desire.

All right, this was no big deal. I glanced around, noting that I could go back and sit on the sofa to do this, and even the coffee table looked sturdy enough to support my weight. But Morgan hadn’t said anything about sitting down, and wasn’t I supposed to follow his orders unquestioningly? So I just stood there and toed off my new sneaks, my feet sinking a little into the carpet. It was a little more tricky taking off my socks like this, so I took my time, balancing on one foot while peeling the sock off the other foot, and then switching. I just left my footwear there next to me, my socks crumpled into two white cotton balls.

“Is there anything more to your request, than simply desiring to see Perry undress?” Jesse inquired.

Morgan nodded without hesitation. “Perry has great feet. They’re really nice to look at.... Don’t you think?”

Jesse went through the motions of rising slightly from his chair and glancing down at my feet. “Very nice. I bet you’ve gone through more than one pair of shoes since the beginning of the school year, huh?” he asked in a kind, fatherly voice (but was it trembling ever so slightly?). “I know how kids’ feet just grow and grow at your age.”

I nodded, scrunching my toes self-consciously into the plush carpeting. I didn’t even notice until he was standing right next to me, that Morgan had approached. “Thanks for doing this,” he whispered. He immediately started working on the single button at the top of my jeans.

“Morgan...?” Jesse inquired calmly but pointedly.

“Yeah...uh...I’m gonna take his pants off now, okay?” I wasn’t sure whose permission he was asking, so I just kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t okay, and all my previous thoughts of being a good and helpful friend suddenly seemed to fly out the window. I realized I had a very real fear of Morgan seeing me naked. I knew he’d be disappointed, and that would probably make him angry and frustrated with me. I wondered if we’d ever be able to be friends again.... Kingcarver, Kingcarver, Kingcarver.... It was becoming a mantra in my head. It even had its own little echo!

“Have you ever done this before—to another boy?” Jesse asked.

“No...of course not,” Morgan answered a bit testily. He was focusing carefully on what he was doing as he tugged my fly down, exposing my light blue boxers. I wondered if he could see my heart pounding against my bare chest as he worked. It took all the restraint I could muster not to grab his arms, or back away. He glanced up at me once, an intense expression on his long face, then lowered his gaze once again as he slipped his thumbs into my jeans and began shimmying them down my hips, tugging only slightly at my boxers. Fortunately, I wasn’t the least bit hard, and felt more like I was in a doctor’s office getting examined, than involved in some bizarre sexual fantasy.

“You can step out...” Morgan suggested, squatting in front of me, having accordioned my pants down to my bare ankles. He held my jeans down as I wiggled my feet free. He stood back up and tossed my jeans on the sofa with our other clothes.

“What are you feeling, Morgan?” Jesse asked.

“Well...uh...I’ve seen Perry in boxers before but....”

“But what?”

“He looks great—with or without clothes, but.... It’s not enough.”

“I understand,” Jesse replied without emotion. “What else?”

“I’m scared....”

“Of...?”

“I’m scared I’m doing something terrible to Perry.”

“I asked you not to go there,” Jesse reminded him pointedly. “He can speak for himself.”

Kingcarver, Kingcarver, Kingcarver....

“Is there part of you that’s enjoying this?” Jesse asked.

Morgan nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat.

“Concentrate on that part, please.”

He nodded again and looked at me with a more focused gaze. I saw him set his jaw and his chest swell with a deep inhalation. “Kneel,” he said.

I didn’t even get it at first and I just stood there, feeling skinny and stupid in my boxers.

“You will kneel before me!” Morgan announced more firmly, gritting his teeth, his voice low but uncharacteristically harsh.

“Oh...uh...” I stammered, dropping quickly to my knees in front of his long legs. My eyes were now aligned with his belly button.

“From now on...you are my slave,” Morgan said. It didn’t sound like he was quite convinced himself, but I just nodded, bowing my head. “Say it!” Morgan demanded.

“I—I’m your slave,” I repeated uneasily.

“Your only function is to serve my needs.”

I nodded dutifully. “Sure...your needs.”

“Kiss my feet, slave!”

I glanced down at Morgan’s dingy white and gray Airwalks. I tried to imagine all the places he had trod recently, through dirt, grass, classroom grit, parking lots, driveways. I wondered if he’d stepped in anything in the backyard recently, maybe something left behind by Dumbbell? I started to feel queasy.

“Perry?” Jesse asked calmly.

Well, I wasn’t ready to use my safe word yet, and disappoint Morgan. Jesse had made me realize that fantasies were a big deal. They weren’t just pretty scenes of people skipping through a field of daisies or winning the lottery or sitting on a sandy beach in Hawaii sipping oddly colored drinks with little umbrellas in them. This meant something to Morgan, and Jesse had somehow gotten him to lower his inhibitions. If I messed this up, I sensed that it could have harmful repercussions for my dear, mixed up friend, so I lowered my head and puckered my lips. I decided the laces were my best bet, and touched them quickly, left and then right.

“Untie them,” Morgan ordered.

I collapsed the bows of the dingy gray laces on each sneaker with trembling fingers. Morgan toed the shoes off, leaving his long feet clad in white socks with grey patches on the toes and heels.

“Kiss my feet again!” he ordered through gritted teeth.

I instinctively shook my head, not finding anything the least bit enticing about putting my lips on Morgan’s sockfeet.

“Kiss them, slave!”

I closed my eyes and again lowered my head. I felt the heat coming off the tops of his feet as my lips made contact with the dry fabric of his socks.

“Do it!” Morgan ordered sharply. I puckered my lips and quickly kissed the top of each foot.

“Did you enjoy that, Perry?” Jesse asked, and I didn’t detect the least bit of sarcasm in his clinical tone.

I shook my head.

“How does that make you feel, Morgan?”

“I didn’t think he’d enjoy it. It was just something I wanted him to do.”

“So you enjoyed it?”

Morgan paused and I looked up at him from my knees. “Yeah,” he answered quietly, “I did...I did,” he repeated softly. There was a long pause and I dared to glance up to see him looking down at me with a pained expression.

“Jes...uh...Doc?” Morgan asked, now turning toward the desk. It was a relief just to have his eyes off me for a minute!

“Yes?”

“I’m pretty sure I’d like to do that thing...you know, that thing we talked about.”

“I understand. The only request I will make is that you indulge yourself fully in it. I don’t want you to be concerned or wracked with guilt. Perry has his safe word, after all.”

What the fuck were they talking about now?!

Jesse slid open a drawer in the desk and nodded. Morgan went over and pulled out...a coil of rope!

*****

Special thanks to Blue for contributing his precious time and expertise to the editing of P&J. I hope everyone will give him a word of thanks for his efforts at the forum.

Yes, that would be the Perry and Jesse Forum! Express your opinions on the story, ask questions, browse through some of the other topics and articles, or just introduce yourself to the rest of the gang of hopeless romantics. Join us at: http://www.livejournal.com/~underthehood/

You are also welcome to email me at: underthehoodster@netscape.net I love to hear from anyone who is enjoying the story

Part V Truths and Lies

Chapter 30-b: The Doctor Is In

Morgan wanted to tie me up? Abruptly, my heart began beating wildly, pounding as ferociously as if I’d run all the way from my house to Morgan’s in one frantic sprint. What was that...that stupid word again? Shit!

He came up to me, looking much taller than he usually did, clutching the long piece of thin white rope in one hand, the ends dangling freely. “Don’t be scared, okay?” he asked, and it was more like he was pleading with me.

“Morgan!” Jesse reminded him sternly.

I realized my eyes were wide with shock, but then I remembered the safe word and that brought me a slight sense of calm for some reason. I had it if I needed it. There was no need to panic. This rope business had to be Jesse’s doing, I figured. He liked tying me up, and he must have somehow suggested it to Morgan during one of their private conversations. It didn’t seem likely that Morgan would have come up with the idea himself. All he had wanted to do was jack me off! Now it occurred to me that maybe Morgan wasn’t the only one playing out his fantasies this afternoon.

“What’re you gonna do?” I asked, not able to keep my voice from quivering.

“Take off your watch,” Morgan said in lieu of an explanation.

I unzipped the velcro strap and set the watch down on the coffee table, becoming again very conscious that I was dressed in nothing but my boxers.

“Put your wrists together,” Morgan said, demonstrating with the bottoms of his palms pressed together while still clutching the thin rope.

I didn’t want to get tied up by Morgan and I hesitated. I sensed none of the sexual thrill that I had felt when Jesse had tied me to his bed or bound my hands with his blackbelt. While my head was swimming in a swirling fog of confusion, the one thing I knew for sure was that I was scared shitless!

“Wait!” Jesse said, and I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. My beautiful blond angel to the rescue once again!

“You forgot these,” he said, tossing a couple things on the desk. I recognized those things. They were wristbands, specifically, the blue and gold terrycloth sweatbands that went with our basketball uniforms.

“Oh yeah, fuck,” Morgan mumbled, scooping them up. He handed them to me.

“Put these on. They’ll keep the rope from tearing your skin.”

“I don’t wanna be tied up,” I whispered to no one in particular.

“What was that?” Morgan asked fearfully.

“I don’t wanna get tied up!” I declared with more confidence.

But the fear was soon replaced by a more menacing look, almost a sneer. “Put those things on and keep silent,” he ordered.

I shook my head and Morgan, clad only in faded jeans and socks, glared at me. The tendons on his neck stood out. “You’re my fuckin’ slave now, got it? You don’t decide whether you want to do something or not. I decide! Now put those things on or not. I’m still gonna tie you up!”

I glanced at Jesse, but was stunned when he lowered his gaze to the desk blotter. Of course, I could stop all this by just uttering that one stupid word. But I couldn’t. If I wanted to help Morgan, clearly I’d have to do things I didn’t want to do. One thing was for sure, all this wasn’t for my enjoyment. Clearly, Jesse wanted to help Morgan as much as I did. And it was only because Jesse was here that I was willing to go through with something this crazy. I slipped the wristbands on and slowly extended my arms, my wrists pressed together, palms facing each other the way Morgan had shown me.

While Morgan busied himself with the task of binding my wrists, I distracted myself by staring at a photo next to the window behind the desk. It was a large portrait of Mr. Kipner and Morgan, both looking seriously macho, fully decked out in their Elmer Fudd regalia: flannel hunting jackets, orange vests, and ear flap caps, brandishing their rifles in front of them. I couldn’t tell if the wooded background was real or fake. I shuddered when I felt the rope brushing my arms. It seemed like he knew what he was doing as he began by first wrapping the silky rope around both my wrists individually. After he got rid of the slack he began to wind the rope tightly around both of my wrists. When he pulled the two long ends taut, I felt the braids of the rope digging deeply into the terrycloth material of the sweatbands. It was a weird feeling, like my hands were gagged and being strangled. I kept my jaw tightly clenched but I could feel it trembling. I wasn’t drawing as much courage from Jesse’s presence as I had hoped.

“Does that hurt?” Morgan asked fearfully.

“It’s not necessary to ask that,” Jesse pointed out quickly. “Perry knows the—”

“I know!” Morgan responded rather testily. “It’s just that—”

“Perry, the boy who permeates your thoughts and your dreams, is standing in front of you, nearly naked. He’s abased himself, declared himself your slave. Now you’re actually tying him up—rendering him completely helpless. Isn’t this one of your most powerful fantasies?” Jesse asked.

For the first time, Morgan looked clearly ashamed. He sheepishly glanced at me, as I stood there looking so pathetically thin and knobby, my arms still extended in front of me, my wrists securely bound together by a half dozen coils of thin white rope. The two ends still hung nearly to the floor as he securely knotted it one final time.

“You are my slave,” Morgan reminded me, his voice somewhat hesitant. “You wouldn’t let me get close to you the way I wanted—the way I needed. So now I’m gonna have to punish you for your arrogance!” Morgan said, gaining more confidence as he spoke the words. “You’re my fuckin’ slave!” he reminded me yet again, and with that declaration, he gave me a hard shove to the shoulder. Caught off guard, I stumbled backward and would have surely fell onto the coffee table if Morgan hadn’t grabbed my arm just in the nick of time.

“Why did you do that?” Jesse asked, not sounding overly concerned about my well being or my near accident, but simply and clinically curious.

“To show him who’s boss.”

“Are you the boss?” Jesse asked.

Morgan nodded, and then scowled at me. He grabbed my chin with his long fingers and squeezed forcefully. “You’re completely helpless—I took your fuckin’ clothes! You can’t hide from me anymore!”

Man, this was scary! I didn’t know why he was making such a big deal out of my clothes. He had seen me before in my boxers. But he looked so into this, that it didn’t even seem to me that it was about sex any more. It was like he had some macho chip on his shoulder and he needed to strut in front of me, making it clear who was in control and why.

“Perry, perhaps it would be appropriate for you to respond in the way a slave might under these conditions,” Jesse suggested calmly.

I could barely think, my heart was pounding so forcefully. Kingcarver, Kingcarver, Kingcarver.... “I’m sorry I...uh...failed you...M-Master,” I stammered, bowing my head so that I was staring at my bare feet. “Do with me...what you will...I’m...uh...I’m helpless to stop you.”

“You melted my heart with your beauty and you didn’t even care!” Morgan sneered in a stilted, but growling voice. “And I’ll admit, you do stir something within me, something that burns inside me.... But I’m a man—not a child! I will no longer let you manipulate me!” It sounded like dialog from one of those sword and sorcery movies, but I had no idea what he was talking about, or what character I was supposed to play. I didn’t have much time to speculate further as he grabbed the loose ends of the rope and tugged me along like a reluctant pet. We ended up standing in the archway that opened into the small corridor that led to the back door.

Morgan pulled up a simple padded chair, like the kind they used at wedding receptions—red cushion and back, with a rounded, brass colored frame. He positioned me right under the doorway and I noticed for the first time, one of those steel exercise bars that people use for doing chin ups. It was set nearly at the very top, with the white capped grips pressed securely into the sides of the rectangular entry. Morgan climbed on the chair behind me, took the two ends of the rope and pulled them over the top of the bar. There couldn’t have been more than a couple inches of clearance. Then he began to pull, hard enough to raise my arms up over my head. I automatically began to resist, and he pulled harder. I could feel him tugging with those strong, well muscled arms, overwhelming the muscles in my own arms and shoulders.

“Jesse!” I gasped, but got no response. After a brief and fruitless battle, I was fully stretched with my heels lifted off the floor, forcing all my weight onto the balls of my feet. My arms pressed into my temples so that I was forced to lean forward a bit to keep from crushing my own head. Morgan wasted no time in winding the rest of the rope around and around the steel bar, tightening it every time, and finally knotting it off, leaving me securely strung up in the middle of the entryway. I could touch the bar with the tips of my fingers, but the way my wrists were tied together, I couldn’t actually grip it.

As I stood there stretched nearly onto my toes, it suddenly dawned on me that I was in the same predicament as Parker, the hapless boy who got tied up in the auto repair shop in Jesse’s story! Surely, that couldn’t be a coincidence. I remembered how exciting it had been reading about that poor boy, forced to strip by a gang of horny teenage thugs, then tied and hoisted up on a hook until he was stretched onto his toes—just like me! I remembered how hot the story had seemed to me at the time, how I had managed to shoot my load twice without even touching myself! But now, I wasn’t the least bit turned on or hard. I could feel my heart thumping against my tight chest, just as I could feel all my ribs. If I dared try to rest more than just the fronts of my feet on the floor, the strain went immediately to my wrists and armpits.

Morgan jumped down and pulled the chair out of the way. He stood right in front of me, his smooth, hairless pecs glistening with sweat. Lifted onto my toes, I was just able to peer over Morgan’s head. Jesse was still sitting behind the large desk, watching intently, his emotions unreadable. Spotting the small tufts of dark hair under Morgan’s arms, I was reminded once again that I looked like nothing more than a little boy next to this well toned athlete. I swallowed a lump in my throat and found it hard to hold his gaze. For his part, Morgan was looking me carefully up and down. He suddenly gave me a little shove, knocking me off balance and causing my weight to shift to my wrists. I groaned at the actual pain of the rope mercilessly gripping my wrists, and immediately felt the strain on my elbows, and armpits. I could even feel the pull on my hips until I was able to get back on the balls of my feet again.

I saw a moment of panic in his eyes, but then his expression hardened. “You’re so pathetic, you know that?” Morgan asked with mock disdain that barely masked his true concern.

I could only nod in agreement. This hurt and I didn’t like it and I wanted to go home now.

“I can do any fucking thing I want to you, and you’re powerless to stop me!” he declared, laying the palms of his hands flat against my strained chest. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I had my safe word, and had no doubt that all this craziness would stop the moment I uttered it. But I just couldn’t, not unless it hurt so bad I couldn’t stand it any more. “I can feel your heart pounding in your chest like a scared rabbit,” he noted, still in this slightly stilted, Conan the Barbarian type voice (minus the Austrian accent, of course).

Then he went over to the sofa and picked up my jeans and T-shirt. He also gathered up my sneakers and socks, and clutched everything in his arms.

“You thought you could hide behind these?” he asked, pushing the clothes into my face.

“I...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.

“This body! This fuckin’ perfect body of yours! Did you think that, by wearing all those fancy clothes, that I would yearn less for what was underneath? Do you think I couldn’t feel you hypnotizing me with those green-brown eyes set like precious jewels in the face of a living angel?” He tossed the whole pile on the floor. It scattered a few feet away, my skater sneaks thumping dully on the carpeted floor.

“Morgan, you’re scaring me,” I whispered through a dry throat.

I saw him hesitate at that. The cocky, aggressive look on his face wavered.

“That’s not how the game is played,” Jesse reminded me from behind the desk, his voice sounding a little strained for the first time, like he was having a hard time focusing on staying in character. “You have your safe word.... Use it!”

Game?! Was he taunting me, or actually telling me to go ahead and bail before things went from bad to worse? It was on the tip of my tongue and I could hear myself saying it in my head. But it stuck in my throat and I couldn’t bring it to my lips. This was important to Morgan. This was his fantasy, and playing it out just might help him deal with his problems. He was certainly right about one thing—I was pathetic! And I didn’t see how he could possibly want to have anything to do with me—let alone be my friend—when this was all over. My only consolation was that at least his mind would be at ease about me and whatever misguided thoughts he had about who and what I was.

“You’re mine—all mine!” he hissed intensely, and the look on his face was serious and focused. Even as his eyes locked with mine, I felt his hand push against the front of my boxers. I gasped at the shock of being fondled by a boy who shouldn’t even be touching me like that. Soon his fingers began to explore and probe through the thin material. I felt him outline my flaccid dick. He pushed in further to find my balls, partially tucked between my strained legs. He kneaded them, gently at first, and then more forcefully, closely mimicking the way I would masturbate myself.

“Mmmmnnnn...” I groaned. It didn’t really hurt but it was unnervingly stimulating. I felt my cock stiffening despite my fear and discomfort.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Morgan asked, coming so close that I could feel his hot breath on my ear lobe. I didn’t say anything but stubbornly shook my head. He stroked me more vigorously, one hand still massaging my scrotum. “Yeah, it does,” he replied for me, obviously noticing that my shaft was beginning to harden.

“Morgan...?” Jesse asked uncertainly.

“He’s getting hard,” Morgan announced excitedly. “I’m...I’m doing it. I’m getting Perry hard!”

I closed my eyes, trying to resist the pure physical stimulation of Morgan’s ministrations. I tried to picture something horrible like the way Billy Zanterman had leered at me like a starving wolf in that back room at Hode Ranch, or the unforgettable vision of that hideous sandworm sprouting from Goreski’s boxers in the john at St. Agnus. But my eyes popped open as I felt Morgan’s long fingered hand slip in under the waistband of my boxers. His fingers, damp with perspiration, brushed my sparse pubic bush before poking my stiffening shaft. I groaned helplessly.

“I knew you’d like this!” Morgan declared triumphantly, breathing heavily on my face. “If you’d only given me a chance, my Prince.”

Prince? What the fuck was he talking about? “No...” I groaned, shifting my balance painfully from my toes to my wrists and back again, frustrated at my inability to keep Morgan out of my pants. But it soon became a moot point as he quickly tugged my boxers down. I felt the sudden shock of air brushing my dick and butt as he stooped to push my last article of clothing all the way down to my ankles. Then he stood back a few feet, close to Jesse’s desk. Both boys were staring at me—especially at the parts that hadn’t been exposed earlier. I wanted to scream at them both to stop gawking at me and I wished there was some way I could just make myself invisible, but the fact was that I could barely catch my own breath. My cock was standing at about half mast from all of Morgan’s attention, but now that he had laid off, it immediately began to wilt.

“How do you feel...um...Morgan?” Jesse asked, and there was more than clinical concern in his voice. My dick twitched a little at the sexy sound of Jesse’s raspy voice.

“I...I feel...I don’t know. I’m so mixed up.”

“Think of your fantasies,” Jesse urged.

“Yeah...it’s great to see the Prince, I mean Perry...see everything. I can’t fuckin’ believe it.”

“Believe what?”

“That I could get so...turned on by staring at a-a naked boy...I mean, I’ve seen plenty—every age and size—I don’t get it,” he stammered fearfully. “I really liked tying him up,” he added quietly.

“Are you satisfied now?” Jesse asked.

Morgan looked directly into my eyes as he slowly shook his head. Soon he was standing right in front of me again and I got a strong whiff of the musky odor emanating from his glistening torso. He brought his arms around me and laid his large hands on my shoulder blades, slowly moving them down my body, his sweaty palms sliding easily down my back and continuing right over my butt cheeks. I groaned again, feeling the blood pulse into my dick. His hands kneaded and fondled my fleshy mounds, even spreading them apart a little, his long fingers sliding up and down my crack. Once he actually brushed my hole and I was shaken by an unexpected shudder of sexual ecstasy. Even Jesse had never touched me quite like that!

Then his hands slid around front and he began masturbating me again, bare flesh against bare flesh. I squirmed helplessly, pivoting a little on my toes as I strained against the rope that bound me to the exercise bar. Rivulets of sweat trickled from my brow and beaded on the bridge of my nose. Spittle was forming in the corners of my mouth. The vigorous massaging of my dick and balls caused me to attain a full erection, which he then examined with intense satisfaction, holding my upward curving penis in his open palm like a prime piece of tenderloin. Then he got down on his knees. He put his hands on my buttocks and pushed me right into his face, his nose in my belly button, my erection pressing against his throat. He began by kissing my belly—big, wet, sucking kisses that tickled more than anything else. I even managed a few strained, breathy laughs, but I was too worked up now to think about anything else but getting some relief. I realized it was only a matter of time now before I reached the peak of a quickly building orgasm.

I cried out wordlessly, as much out of shock as out of sexual passion, as Morgan’s lips went over my cockhead! While he used one hand pressed against my bare butt to hold me steady, he held the bottom of my shaft with his thumb and forefinger, guiding my penis into his hot, wet mouth. He seemed to know what he was doing as he was careful to curl his lips over his teeth to keep from injuring me. As my eyes nearly bugged out of my head, I noticed with a shudder that Jesse was now standing right behind him, the look of surprise on his angelic face quickly turning to one of intense concentration. He didn’t even seem to notice me observing his presence. God, he was so beautiful though, so stunning in that stiff white shirt and tie, his long, silky golden blond hair spilling over the collar, his full lips so rosy red, his crystal blue eyes.... If only it was Jesse sucking me off instead of Morgan....

“Ummmnnn,” I moaned, feeling my balls begin to contract. Morgan was actually sucking me at this point, my glans and about half the shaft fully in his mouth. “Mor...gan...!” I gasped, desperately trying to warn him. “I-I’m...I’m gonna...!”

There it went, shot after shot of cum blasting straight into Morgan Kipner’s mouth as my whole body stiffened with each thrillingly orgasmic spasm. I lifted myself fully on my toes, every muscle in my body strained to its limit of exertion. As the spurts began to lessen, I thought for sure he would back off, but he kept me there, his fingers squeezing my butt cheeks so hard I could feel his nails pressing into the spongy flesh. His nose brushed my pubic hair, and his lips, still curled to keep his teeth off my dick, were trembling with passion. Finally, he made a horrible gagging sound and let my member slide out. He coughed and sputtered, and I watched in disgust as some of my own semen spattered from his mouth. Rather than feel sorry for Morgan and the crazy feelings he was dealing with, I felt a dizzying wave of self-righteous anger course through my body. Served him right! I told myself. What did he think he was doing, a straight guy sucking on another boy’s penis, trying to drink his cum?!

But the anger passed quickly and suddenly I felt like all the energy had been sucked out of my body. It seemed like way too much effort to prop myself up on my toes, so as painful as it was, I allowed myself to just hang there by my wrists, my eyes teary from the intensity of my ejaculation and the pain of my suspended condition.

“You should untie him now,” I heard Jesse say, his voice sounding urgent but somewhat distant.

I opened my eyes to see Morgan, still on his knees, scowling at him. He shook his head. “Not yet! He didn’t use the fuckin’ safe word!” There was a clear determination in his voice as he moved behind me. I heard him unzipping his fly and I stared fearfully at Jesse. God Almighty—was Morgan going to rape me?! “No, no...no,” I moaned, mostly in my own throat.

Jesse gave me a strained but concerned look. From his expression, it seemed he had the same fear. He looked ready to move, but he still refrained from taking any action. I knew that all I had to do was blurt out my safe word, and Jesse would surely knock Morgan to the floor. But even in my weakened and confused state, I couldn’t believe that Morgan would actually do that to me. I was determined to hold on for just a few more heartbeats. Suddenly I felt his long, rock-hard dick press against the top of my crack and the small of my back and I stopped breathing. It felt wet and huge and pulsing with a life of its own, like a fat nightcrawler from the depths of the earth. He wrapped his sweaty, steel muscled arms around my chest and hugged me to him, his chin resting against my shoulder, his ragged breathing heavy in my ear. Finally I had to gasp for breath, and as panic began to overtake my mind, I imagined that he was going to suffocate me. But I felt him rubbing the bottom of his shaft against my lower back and the top of my crack, using my own perspiration and his own precum as a lubricant, pushing and sliding, until I could even feel his balls slapping dully against my butt cheeks. Then I felt his arms tighten even more around my chest as he thrust his hips so forcefully against my ass, that he lifted me right off my feet. As I helplessly kicked my legs, I felt my loose boxers slide off and drop to the floor as gallons of thick, hot liquid spurted into the tight space between my back and his chest. Despite my shock, I momentarily flashed on the way Tom used to come up from behind me at school and grab me by the waist, grinding his crotch playfully into my butt, and I suddenly felt like bursting into maniacal laughter. But then a truly guttural sound erupted from Morgan’s throat.

“Arghhhhhh!” he growled like a furious wild animal trapped at the end of a ravine. With each spasm of his body, he lifted me off the floor. At last I felt him relax his grip around my torso as my toes again sank into the shallow carpet. I had my eyes closed for most of it, but when I opened them, it was to see Jesse standing there, his face coated with sweat, his crystal blue eyes wet and wide and his mouth open. There was even a thin trail of drool trickling from one corner of his mouth to his chin.

As Morgan released my chest, I gasped for breath. Being stretched out, it was already a difficult task just to take a normal breath, but after what I had just experienced, I thought I really might suffocate. Morgan slumped to the floor behind me and I felt his arms wrap around my lower legs.

Jesse seemed to come to his senses the quickest. He wiped the spittle from his chin with the sleeve of his white shirt. “We...we have to untie him now,” he urged, the tone of his voice indicating that he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Apparently, Morgan wasn’t quite up to it, so Jesse grabbed the chair and placed it at my side. He worked frantically at the knots, but seemed unable to make any progress. Morgan’s arms remained wrapped around my shins, his head, soaked with perspiration leaning against my calves.

“Shit!” Jesse exclaimed with frustration. He jumped back down to the carpet and hurriedly went to the desk. He started pulling drawers open frantically and rifling through them until he found what he was looking for. He quickly returned with a large pair of scissors and climbed back up on the chair.

“Back off, Morgan!” he demanded in a voice that left no room for protest. As I felt Morgan release his grasp, Jesse began snipping at the ropes. I felt the pressure against my wrists lessen.

“Get ready to catch yourself,” Jesse warned as he kept snipping away.

Despite his warning, when I was freed from the exercise bar, I stumbled a couple of steps only to have my knees give out. I collapsed, my hands still bound together.

“Oof!” I grunted, as I hit the carpeted floor, my forearms and knees bearing the brunt of the impact.

Jesse was right by my side. “Oh shit...I’m so sorry,” he moaned, and it sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“I’m...I’m okay,” I managed to gasp. Jesse still had the scissors and he used them to slice the remaining coils of rope that still bound my wrists together. A few bits of the terrycloth wrist bands were snipped off along with the tight rings of rope.

“I’m sorry...I’m so, so sorry,” Jesse kept muttering under his breath.

I really didn’t like the worried look on his face. I didn’t want him to be upset. He had only tried to do good today, and if he had also gotten something out of it, then I was glad, or I would be, once my head stopped spinning and my body stopped aching. Everything had happened so quickly and unexpectedly. My brain wanted to convince itself that this had all been a bad dream, a waking nightmare, too bizarre and outrageous to be anything but a dark and twisted phantasmagoria. But the undeniable facts of my own nudity, my throbbing wrists, and the sticky mess coagulating on my back forced me to acknowledge the enormous thing that had just happened.

”Kingcarver,” I croaked.

Jesse looked at me with shock, and then trepidation.

”Kingcarver!” I declared more confidently, although my throat was painfully dry and it hurt to speak above a whisper. Jesse gave me a disbelieving, inquiring look and I gave him a shaky smile, my lips still trembling uncontrollably.

“I believe the experiment is officially over!” Dr. Taylor declared in a tight, raspy voice. He looked at me again with open concern and more than a touch of guilt. “Just hang tight for a sec and I’ll get something to clean you up,” he said in a voice that was all Jesse. He sprang to his feet and slipped past Morgan, into what I assumed was the bathroom.

“Perry...?” Morgan croaked in a dry and weak voice that was barely recognizable.

I felt a twinge of embarrassment, realizing that I was lying on the floor of Mr. Kipner’s office, stark naked, my bare ass in plain sight, with Morgan’s jizz splattered all over my lower back. Some of it had even dripped down into my crack.

“I...I’m sorry,” he began to apologize. I glanced back to see that he was still on the floor, leaning against the entryway, his jeans and boxer briefs bunched up at his ankles.

I didn’t know how to respond. I had been worried about him seeing me naked, about him touching my private parts.... Never in my wildest fantasies had I imagined that Morgan would tie me up and suck me off! At least he had gagged on my cum. That seemed like a good thing somehow.

I heard whispered footsteps as Jesse scurried back across the carpeted floor, which smelled vaguely of tobacco. He laid a full sized bath towel next to me and then began wiping off my back with a hand towel. He even entered my butt crack and I gasped at the strange and unexpected intrusion.

“Sorry...sorry,” he muttered sadly. “Can you get on your knees?” he asked.

I nodded and weakly picked myself up. Jesse immediately wrapped the towel around my waist and I grasped it and tied it as best I could. My wrists felt like they were on fire. I peeled off the sweat soaked wristbands. Considering how much they hurt, I wasn’t that surprised to see dull red circles impressed onto my wrists despite the protection of the terrycloth. But that was to be expected since those tight coils of rope had actually supported all my weight during at least a part of the experience. My hands and fingers tingled as the blood flow slowly returned to normal; my armpits were sore, my chest and hips ached, and it hurt to breathe. I wasn’t sure I liked getting tied up like that. It had been fun to read about in Jesse’s story, but in reality, it was a bitch and a half!

Quite suddenly, Morgan began sobbing, loud, gasping, pathetic eruptions that filled the room and surely reverberated beyond the wood paneled door into the rest of the large house. I got weakly to my feet and stumbled over to where Morgan was still sitting with his knees pulled up, his pants around his ankles. I carefully knelt by his side.

“Hey, I’m okay!” I assured him in a painfully hoarse voice, even managing a weak smile. I reached out a comforting arm and Morgan’s eyes opened wide with shock. I realized that he was seeing the red marks on my wrists for the first time.

“Oh...Shit!” he gasped in a half choking voice.

“No, it’s not so bad,” I assured him as quickly as I could. “The sweatbands were a great idea. My skin burns a little, but it’s already starting to go away,” I lied.

“Jesse, there’s cold water in the minifridge...in the bathroom,” Morgan noted weakly, and Jesse hurried past us to get it. My distraught jock friend just kept trying to make eye contact with me, sometimes managing a couple of uninterrupted seconds before he would flinch and his gaze would drop to the floor in shame. He was still breathing heavily, but the sobbing had stopped, at least for the moment.

Jesse pulled the wrapper off the bottle of Sparkletts and handed it to me. He also had one for himself and one for Morgan. We all drank thirstily.

“Perry, are you really okay?” Jesse asked, kneeling beside us. I could tell his concern was genuine and not just for Morgan’s benefit. “I mean, do you need anything?”

I shrugged and then shook my head. What could he do? The best thing now, was for me to get dressed, go home, and take another long, long shower. I needed time to think about everything. Right now, I felt so very tired. It was like Morgan had sucked out all my energy along with the cum.

“Perry...Jesse...I’m so, so sorry,” Morgan apologized again, and with the drained expression on his face and the rivulets of sweat cascading down his temples and beading on his forehead, nose and chin, he looked more like he had just given his all in a full game of basketball than like he had just played out a kinky sex fantasy.

“The idea here wasn’t for you to feel sorry...or ashamed,” Jesse noted, apparently referring to some earlier talk the two had had without me. “You were supposed to see that Perry...that he’s just a normal kid...like anyone else.”

“Well, in that case, the plan sure the fuck backfired!” Morgan noted with grim sarcasm.

“You know what I mean, right?” Jesse asked, turning to me a little sheepishly.

I nodded.

“I hurt him,” Morgan groaned, looking at Jesse but not at me.

“That was pretty rough,” Jesse admitted. “But I think Perry’s a lot tougher than he looks.”

“I’m okay...really,” I insisted, but I could already tell that my whole body would be sore tomorrow—and there was a basketball practice right after school! Even so, I realized that, before I could start worrying about my own pathetic self, I needed to know that Morgan was going to be okay. It was possible that playing out such a powerful and obscene fantasy might very well have backfired. Instead of making Morgan see that there was nothing to get worked up about as far as my stupid body went, it may have made him feel like he had taken advantage of our friendship and really done me some serious harm.

“Look at you!” Morgan said, finally meeting my gaze. He gestured at my tired face and reddened wrists.

“You sure did!” I said, trying my best to smile. “I mean...you sure did look at me!”

Morgan seemed taken aback by my weak attempt at humor. “I did, didn’t I? I wanted to see you naked so bad,” he replied with fearful earnest. “Worse than anything.”

“One thing we noticed today,” Jesse noted, sounding again a little like ’Dr. Taylor, “was that it wasn’t just about sex but also about domination. It’s like you wanted to show Perry that you were in control.”

Morgan nodded. “Yeah, I liked that feeling...but see, that was just part of the fantasy. I don’t really feel like that,” he admitted glumly. He glanced at both of us with that forlorn look of his, his eyebrows raised over his close set, reddened eyes. “I feel like Perry is just...perfect, so incredibly good looking...so sweet, so kind and humble...and I’m such a scumbag...such a low-life, self-involved scumbag asshole—”

“Morgan! Get off it!” Jesse said, raising his voice harshly. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”

“Right,” he muttered distractedly, as if he was trying valiantly to look at things from a bigger perspective but wasn’t quite able to get beyond the intense feelings of guilt and remorse he was currently experiencing.

“You did the things you fantasized about...the things you wanted to do to Perry.”

“Shit, Perry,” Morgan said, and it looked like he might start sobbing again at any moment. “I sucked your dick. I can’t believe it. You must think I’m like the sickest mother of all fuckers that ever lived!”

“That wasn’t something you told me you wanted to do,” Jesse noted drily.

“I know...It just happened. It looked so...good. I just had to do it.”

“I’m sorry!” I apologized quickly. “I tried to warn you that I was gonna...you know....” I couldn’t say the words despite everything that had happened.

Morgan managed a weak smile. “I know, Per. I knew what was happening. I wanted you to cream my mouth. I wanted to taste you, to drink you up. I was just so damned worked up that I ended up choking—God, what a fucked up son of a bitch I am!”

“That’s good!” I noted quickly. “That means you’re not really gay or anything!”

Morgan laughed drily and then shook his head. “No, it just means I was a little overexcited. I would’ve taken it all otherwise. I wanted to...still do.”

“You mean...?”

“Yeah, I liked it, Per. I liked seeing you naked; I liked tying you up; I loved feeling you all over. I loved having your dick in my mouth. It was all just totally...incredible.”

I just knelt there in shock, hearing the words I so didn’t want to hear coming out of Morgan’s mouth. My mind was reeling.... All this had been for nothing!

“The thing is,” Jesse interrupted, “do you want to do that stuff with anyone else?”

Morgan seemed to get thoughtful. “I’m...I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Now that I know what it’s really like...what it’s like to experience another guy in a sexual way...I don’t know.” He eyed Jesse carefully. “I might want to do that stuff with other guys.”

“So you are gay?” Jesse said, the disappointment obvious in his voice.

Morgan shrugged, but no longer seemed that upset. “It might be,” he confessed. “I mean, this all happened so fast. I still can’t even take it all in. Mainly what I’m thinking about right now is all the pain and humiliation I put my best friend through.” He looked at me solemnly. “I mean, the things I did to you today, the things you put up with, no one in the world should have to go through that!”

“I think Perry understood that he could stop things anytime he wanted to, right?” Jesse asked me. The worry was still apparent in his tone.

I was barely focusing on what was going on anymore, but I slowly nodded my head. Morgan was gay? That couldn’t be! There had to be something else, something to do with Morgan being a natural born leader, a driven athlete, all that domination stuff.... But I just couldn’t think clearly.

“I’m fine, Morgan, and I’ll do anything I can for you.... I just want us to be like...normal friends,” I told him, valiantly fighting back the tears that wanted to come gushing out.

“Per, I’m gonna start blubberin’ like a fuckin’ baby again if you don’t lay off,” he warned.

I glanced confusedly at Jesse.

“I think Morgan would almost prefer that you just smack him in the jaw, or tell him to fuck off or something,” Jesse suggested.

“Yeah...yeah, that would probably be best,” Morgan concurred. “But what about you?” he asked Jesse.

“What...?”

“I mean, look how you spent all this time talking to me about all this...all my fucked up problems...since that night at the hotel. I mean, if that ain’t a real friend, I don’t know what is. And then having to sit there and watch me...humiliate and torture your best friend—”

“Um. well, maybe I should make a confession too,” Jesse said quietly, and suddenly my focus was very much back on the moment. Morgan and I both looked at the handsome, blond and blue-eyed youth crouching next to us, the only one of us that didn’t look like he had just run the L.A. Marathon on a ninety-five degree day, and also the only one of us still fully dressed.

“You see, I kinda liked seeing Perry get tied up,” he admitted. “I mean, I was worried and stuff for him of course, and I think I’m gonna have some really bad dreams...but in a way...it was kinda cool—like one of those games you play when you’re a kid—only way, way more intense!”

Morgan nodded understandingly. I was surprised that Jesse would admit his affinity for bondage, since it had such clear sexual connotations, but I think he was trying his best to help Morgan feel better about himself, and I was all for that.

“What about seeing him naked?” Morgan pressed.

“Um...well...that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he admitted sheepishly. “You're...um...you look okay and stuff...for a guy, Perry,” he confessed awkwardly, sounding more like me than the smooth and confident boy I had come to know and love so dearly.

“Maybe you’re gay too!” Morgan said with a creepy dose of enthusiasm.

“Let’s not get carried away,” Jesse laughed drily.

“Hem...” I said, not liking the way that particular conversation was going. “Look, guys,” I said, shakily getting to my feet. There was nothing more prominent in my mind at the moment than escape. I had to get out of here, away from the two people who had seen me in that humiliating situation, seen my pathetic, nude body, seen the unbelievably stupid way I must look when I’m blowing my load. What could be more embarrassing? “I really need to get dressed and get going.... Is that okay?”

“Are you mad at us?” Morgan asked, struggling to his own feet, not bothering to clean himself up but quickly tugging his boxer briefs and pants up at the same time. “At me?”

I shook my head. “I’m not mad at anybody. You’re both my friends and...I know we’re all guys and stuff but...I just don’t like being naked in front of people, and it did really hurt getting tied up like that,” I admitted.

It looked for a moment like I was going to have two crying teenagers to deal with. “But it was kinda fun too,” I added quickly. “In a way...I mean, I guess I used to like to play pretend games and stuff too.... And it always seemed like someone had to get tied up. That was just part of the game.... So this time, I guess that was me!”

“Yeah, maybe next time, it’ll be Jesse’s turn!” Morgan said, making a weak attempt at a joke.

Jesse didn’t look amused. He began gathering my scattered clothing up. He handed me my boxers. I quickly slipped them on before untying the towel from around my waist. I was still hot and sticky from everything that had happened, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to have my clothes on—then I’d feel at least a little better. Jesse handed me my jeans and I stepped into them and zipped them up. I pulled my T-shirt on over my head and I felt it cling uncomfortably to my perspiration-soaked torso. Jesse handed me my shoes and socks and I went to sit on the sofa. Morgan came and sat by me as I started to put my socks back on. He watched me intently as I started to stuff one foot into a still-tied sneaker. Then I remembered the pledge I had made to myself not to ruin my new shoes before I even got on the plane to New York. I hurriedly undid the bow, realizing my fingers were still trembling.

“I hate seeing you put your shoes on,” Morgan said. “In fact, I hate seeing you get dressed at all. You look so cool—”

“Morgan, what’s wrong with you?” I asked angrily, hardly able to tie my laces I was so upset. “Do you hear yourself? I mean, what the fuck are you talking about?”

But Morgan didn’t bristle or anything. He actually laughed. “I got it bad for you, Perry. That’s all there is to it.” He paused, as if he was startled at his own lack of emotional angst. “I was hoping you’d be okay with it,” he added quietly.

“But what about Katy?” I asked, finally finishing my bows.

I saw a slightly pained expression come to his face and he pursed his lips. “I like Katy a lot—and not just as a friend,” he was quick to point out. He seemed to look off into space for a few heartbeats. “I guess I’m bi,” he noted without consternation.

“No—you’re just mixed up!” I insisted, glancing desperately at Jesse for a little backup. But he just stood leaning against the desk looking very uncomfortable.

“I’m not, Perry,” Morgan insisted. “I mean, not anymore. I know I like Katy—sexually, and now I know I like you—sexually. That’s just how it is. And if it really came down to it—if you had these same kinda feelings too, I’d rather be with you than her.”

I could feel my eyes bulging in my head. I got to my feet. “This is crazy!” I gasped.

“No, Perry,” We both turned to look at Jesse. “It’s not crazy...just not what you expected, not how you wanted it to turn out. But that doesn’t make it crazy.”

Morgan looked at Jesse with clear gratitude. “I think he’s right,” Morgan agreed, still sounding unusually calm and collected. “I mean, if I just look at things in the simplest way—I’m bisexual and I’m attracted to pretty girls and pret—good looking guys, it all starts to make sense, all these feelings I’ve been having.”

“It does...?” I asked incredulously. I realized I was now the only one in the room who seemed on the verge of hysteria.

“How would you explain it?” Morgan asked, and it seemed like he was still open to other possibilities. Only my mind was a blank. My wrists burned and my sweaty body ached all over.

“I...I can’t,” I admitted defeatedly. “But if you really do have those kinds of feelings for guys, then why me? I’m nothing special. I don’t have big muscles or a big...er...anything...” I finished awkwardly.

“That does seem a little strange that you’d only be interested in Perry that way,” Jesse agreed.

Morgan actually smiled, and it really did seem like a change had come over him in just the last few minutes. The look of guilt, shame and fear, the heavy sobs, even the anger and frustration, seemed to belong to someone else now, someone who had silently left the building. “Who do you think is prettier: Melissa or Jessica?” he asked.

I thought of doe-eyed Melissa jumping on me at St. Joe’s with her well endowed bosom sticking in my face, and I thought of Jessica in her beautiful dress at church last Sunday, or in her form-fitting bicycle shorts running around the park with that bright white smile and girlish giggle.

“Jessica.”

Morgan nodded in emphatic agreement. “See? Melissa’s got the biggest boobs—no contest, and for sure she ain’t a dog or anything, but you’re right: Jessica is a lot prettier—like overall.”

“Okay....”

“So, it’s like that for me...I mean, about you. Maybe you aren’t as ripped as the Governator, or as well endowed as...as some other guys, but my God, Per, you take my fuckin’ breath away!”

I realized there were tears trickling out of my eyes and even though I wanted to get away, I needed to first pull myself together.

“Don’t cry, dude,” Morgan crooned softly, coming to sit by my side. Jesse remained leaning on the desk, but I could see the emotions boiling in his crystal blue eyes. “Are you upset because of...the things I did to you?” he asked worriedly.

Fuck Yeah! But I didn’t think that was what I was really crying about. I shook my head. “It was...was just a game,” I muttered, maybe trying to convince myself that was the case.

“Okay...sure,” Morgan agreed smoothly. “It was just a game that got a little outta hand...but then, what’re you feeling sad about?”

“Because you’re supposed to be a straight, normal—”

“Perry,” Jesse interrupted quickly. “Who’s to say what’s normal? Isn’t it different for everyone?”

“I...I dunno,” I said, realizing I was being dense and difficult.

“Do you like Artie?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Not really,” I admitted.

“But Manny does. Does that make him abnormal?”

“Maybe,” I joked weakly. “No...I guess not,” I admitted.

“And what about Kyle and Melissa? Are they abnormal—horny as two lab rats injected with a shitload of pheromones maybe—but abnormal?”

“No—but it’s not the same thing!” I insisted petulantly. “Morgan is supposed...supposed to be...” I stammered frustratedly.

“Your totally straight, ‘man, that guy’s got all his shit together,’ jock friend?” Morgan asked a bit sarcastically.

I nodded emphatically. “Yeah—exactly!”

Morgan hesitantly reached out an arm, and then went ahead and rubbed my shoulder. I didn’t stop him because it was sore and it did feel good to get a little sympathy massage.

“Don’t you think I’d love to be that person?” Morgan asked quietly.

“I...dunno,” I admitted with a sniffle. The tears had stopped but my nose was running. I ungracefully wiped the snot with the sleeve of my T-shirt.

“And I tried so hard...not just for myself, but for you, and the team...Katy...Derek...my parents...my dad.” I looked at him hopefully, but he shrugged. “But in the end, what’s the point in pretending to be something your not?”

“There’s a lot of point!” I assured him. “Nobody will take you seriously as a jock anymore if they find out about this.”

Morgan nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I wasn’t planning to make a school-wide announcement. Just you and Jesse know...and I trust you guys...totally.”

“But what are we gonna do?” I asked, feeling the frustration and hopelessness start to work their way up my throat again. I looked desperately at both Morgan and Jesse.

“It’s gonna work out, I think,” Morgan offered somewhat uncertainly. “I mean, I understand something about myself now. I’m not gonna fight it any more, and that feels so good...you just can’t imagine.”

“But Perry’s straight,” Jesse pointed out in a convincing manner.

“Yeah, I know, and that’s cool too,” Morgan declared. “It means there isn’t going to be any wild, gay love affair, and even though I have fantasies like that, I think it’s a lot better for everyone that it doesn’t happen that way.”

“That would be dangerous,” Jesse pointed out.

Morgan nodded. “I don’t think you could keep a secret like that in a small school like St. Boniface.”

I resisted the urge to glance over at Jesse, but kept my eyes downcast.

“So, as far as what we’re gonna do...” Morgan continued, “I don’t exactly know. Why don’t we just take some time to think about it. I mean, Christmas break is coming up. You’re gonna be outta town; I’m gonna be outta town—”

“I’ll be here!” Jesse quipped.

“That’s good,” Morgan said with a warm smile, and he turned to look directly at Jesse. “I mean, it’s really good. I’m really glad that you came to Santa Corina,” he proclaimed sincerely.

I saw that Jesse was genuinely touched by that, and I remembered how Morgan had admitted to feeling a little resentful of my new friend from Illinois, how he had tried to draw Jesse into a fight that day before Thanksgiving. Now I could finally see that there were some good things happening here. Morgan’s face looked so different, relaxed, even peaceful. Of course we both looked like we could use a serious shower.

“Me too,” I said, offering Jesse a shy smile.

There was a few moments of silence but I sensed satisfaction, at least from Morgan and to a certain extent from Jesse. The thought that I had my dick and balls hanging out in front of these guys, that Morgan had masturbated me, and even sucked me off, still made me seriously queasy, but he claimed that he had actually enjoyed it. At first, he had felt all the guilt and shame that had been weighing him down these last couple months, but then, somehow, it had lifted, and I could feel that and hear it in his voice. I sighed a big, heavy sigh through my mouth.

“Man, Perry naked and tied up...” Jesse noted disbelievingly.

“I think he deserves the Good Sportsmanship Award of the Month,” Morgan noted.

“Of the Year!” Jesse emphasized.

“You guys are nuts,” I muttered. “But I guess I must be too, because here I am, sitting in this room with my two best friends, knowing that you guys saw the most disgusting parts of my body, and you’re still...” I felt tears coming again, but I breathed deeply despite the tightness in my chest, fighting them back. “Still my friends,” I whispered emotionally.

“I really need to get upstairs and get cleaned up,” Jesse said uneasily, even though he looked perfectly fine to me.

“Dr. Taylor, isn’t it traditional to finish a therapy session with a group hug?” Morgan asked.

For a single heartbeat, Jesse looked at me in that way I knew meant that he loved me with all his heart and I felt a shiver go through my whole body. He was so beautiful, so intelligent, so talented...so mine...I dared to glance back with love in my eyes and I saw his cheeks turn a light pink. Then he walked to the middle of the room and Morgan and I joined him. We had a long, long hug filled with hard biceps and boys’ sweat...and it really felt like the three of us had been through something big, something important. I wondered briefly if that something was good or bad, and then came to the startling realization that it just was. No one had asked for the feelings they had, or the strange urges that constantly tested our willpower, or the constant struggles we endured between what we thought was right and what we thought was wrong. And beyond all that was how all the people around us would react, judging our feelings and our actions against their own experiences and beliefs. How could there be any true right and wrong when every person was different? In the end, it really came down to who the people were that you called friends.

I made sure to press Jesse in extra tight, even though Morgan had his long arms wrapped around both of us.