Yes, Alissa has risen temporarily from the dead.
Why the absence?
I’m not even entirely sure.
Three journals now.
uJournal, melo, and livejournal.
What fun, eh?
Yes, I just love screwing with the HTML.
Plus I got bored.
Welp, you can’t hate me too badly for not updating.
Because I’m doing so now ;D

LoVe,
Me.

Three more days.
I hate antibiotic band-aids. They get all slimy when you stick them to/around a cut. ’S so nasty when you pull them off.
[Shudder.]
Anyhow, been reading and zoning the past few days, haven’t really done much of anything. I should really study but...I’m going to put that off for a while.
Bleh, Finals when we get back to school. Horrible. Just horrible.
I started editing The Summer Of My Death in Microsoft Works. I didn’t even realize it was seven pages long. It’ll probably take a while because of the HTML that’s in there since it was on my journal. I’ll probably wind up erasing the entry from melo. I might put the revised version up, might. I need to focus on finishing it tho’ because even I want to know what’s going to happen.
I have that problem a lot, heh. I’ll start or story and not finish it. Or if I do the ending will seem as though it were put together sloppily and in a hurry, to me at least.
Oh well.
LoVe,
Me.

Six more weeks until I get my braces off. A year early than expected.
Or so the orthodontist said. January 22nd they pry these metal babies off. The following Monday I get a retainer. Oh joy.
The ’Lish is so very excited =)
Keith calls practically every day. [Beams.] And I get to see him tomorrow because we have the icky Band Parade. He said he’d be hella tired. Soccer then he has to go straight to band and march 3 and a half miles.
Pobre cito. =(
I started Hearts in Atlantis because I finished The Talisman.
At the moment I have three books checked out from the library.

Hearts in Atlantis.
Speaks the Nightbird.
Firestarter.

I should really read one book at a time but...I can’t help myself.
They’re all due the 26th, day after Christmas, which is...13 days away? Yea, I think so.
I think I’ll be going Christmas shopping sometime this weekend. Probably after the parade even though I’ll prolly be all tired and bleh-like.
I’m going to be staying over my aunts house since my mom and stepdad have a Christmas party to go to. My mom is afraid to leave me home alone by myself on Saturday which I think is the lamest thing ever. I wanted to stay here Saturday night. I don’t want to go and sleepover my aunts house.
Why do I need a babysitter?
They keep me on a short leash.
LoVe,
Me.

Hrm, it’s been a bit since I’ve wrote, hasn’t it?
We’ve moved into December, dun dun dun.
About 19 more days until Christmas, can you dig it? I can =)
Up until yesterday nothing really happened.
I guess because I’m such a boring person, ha.
I attempted to get Talia karma, managed to get her like 12. I think I popped virgins on her name but it didn’t show up. That was sorta weird. Dunno what was going on.
Anywho!
DECEMBER 5TH.
Friday.
2003.
Keith asked me out ;D
Does anyone even understand how ecstatic the ’Lish is right now?
Daniel L. invited me to the movies for his birthday thingie.

Vanessa.
Icca.
Sarah G.
Margie.
Kristen.
Becca.
Stephanie.
Keith.
Me.
Riley.
Justine.
Leticia.
Melissa.
Maritza.
Kyle.
Michael.
Daniel M.
I think that’s just about everyone who went. We took up like two rows.
Anyhow, we went to see Timeline. It was pretty nifty.
We threw popcorn at Michael during a good portion of the movie and Keith asked me if I would go out with him towards the end.
Feels so ethereal.
His timing was just about perfect.
His heart was beating so fast.
I wouldn’t have guessed he was that nervous by just looking at him.
Alissa’s such a dweeb.

Him: "I’ve been meaning to ask you something throughout the whole movie--"
Me [accidentally cutting him off, pointing at the screen.]: About that guy right there?
Him: "No, no, something else."

Lol, I felt like such a dumbass but I suppose he forgave me? Yea, because we’re going out now.
The ’Lish is so happy.
He had soccer today, two games he said, but I’m not sure when they’re over, forgot to ask I was zoning so bad.

After the movies we went to Denny’s.
The lady looked at us like we were the mob or something, lol.
They pushed like four tables together to accomodate our group, heh.
We felt so special, oh yea.
We’re so very cheap XD
We all ordered samplers or fries except for Daniel M. He ordered a huge ass hamburger with some fries and a coke. And devoured all of it.
I could barely eat all of my sampler. One because I like the cheese sticks the best and they only gave me about four and two because I was laughing so hard.
Daniel L. flung whipped cream at Michael and it hit him in the face.
Everyone got such a laugh off of that.
I wish we would have had a camera but Riley, who had a camera on her phone, left a few minutes before it happened.

LoVe,
Me.

Talked to Keith last night, yay. He said he liked my poems. I copied and pasted, didn’t want to give him the website and have him think I was a crazy stalker-killer.
I was ’sposed to go to the mall with him, Gaurav and Muntasir yesterday but, yea, I had no money so my stepdad said I couldn’t go.
Bleh.
Keith said it would have been funner if I had gone.
[Pose.]
Anywho’s.
Cucu met Sadie persona today. Lol, I think he fell in love. My crossdresser is the funnest.
I love my imagination.
I had to cut the RP short, however, when my mom realized the sweet potato pie was bad.
I guess she made it with bad potatoes?
Welp, they tasted them and threw them away so my aunt dragged me to go on a wild goose hunt with her.
We went to like three stores searching for a pecan pie.
That’s what happens when there are picket lines x_O
We found no pecan pie.
Bought an apple one instead which was frozen and flaking.
I don’t think I’m going to eat it.
My aunt proposed that she make another cheesecake.
So, we started to go to Ralph’s, saw that it was closed, went down to Stater Bros. (for the second time) and found no cheesecake there.
Except for a mildly crumbly and frozen apple pie our hunt was unsuccessful.
I suggested it we thaw it before eating.
We’re supposed to be having people over so I hope they like cold pie! Unless we bake it again or summat.
Anyway, everything else was cooked pretty well, heh.
My stepdad sampled the potato salad.
My mom said he didn’t sample it, he made a meal of it.
She was angry =)

LoVe,
Me.

That special someone is interested in going out with me.
I wonder if he’d mind if we kept it on the D.L?
Strict parents, psh.
Looked at Ling-persona’s Blurty (does everyone have Blurty?) and saw that she mentioned me. I felt so special.
She took one of the surveys there from my site, w00t. Represent.
Haven’t seen Cucu, another person I RP with, yet today. Maybe it would help if I was on my other screenname? Oh well, I’ll get on it later.

Anduve rapido porque un demonio caz

Who’s your inner classic movie star?

Not mine:
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But whips and chains excite me
So throw me down, tie me up
And show me that you like me.

You give me wings--
to soar
kiss the sky.

Listening to:
Dashboard Confessional :: Hands Down.


I went to the movies last night. Oh, what fun.
Some of my friends are bastards but I suppose I love them, somewhere deep...deep...down.
At least two of them talk a whole lot of shit but that’s all right, sort of...
Anyway, we (Margie, Daniel, Stephanie, Me, and Michael) went to see Scary Movie 3 since they wouldn’t let us into Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Underage-ness and all that b.s.
We were going to just sneak into see it but like...security is everywhere in the AMC.
We figured that in when we were about to wander into the new Matrix movie and kept walking.
We were going to go into the mall next to get some Gloria Jeans but it was already closing; which was dumb because it was only 9:30 and none of us wanted to go home. We went to the gas station for cappucinos instead and then went into Burger King.
Michael ate like all my fries and we just sat in the back corner and talked for a while.
It was better than sitting at home on my fat butt and doing nothing. The only thing that sucks is that I have homework to do tonight, bleh.

LoVe,
Me.

Physical Attributes:

Age: 14
Height: 5’3"
Weight:116 lbs
Eye color: Dark brown.
Natural hair color: Dark brown/black.
Current hair color: Dark brown/black.
Heritage: Mom’s from Arkansas, real Dad’s from Louisiana. I was born and bred in Cali.
Tattoos?: None.
Piercings?: Two in each ear.
Blemish free skin?: Er, kind of. I have moles in the shape of a question mark on my left shoulder.
What is your favorite part of your body?: My nails; is that pathetic?
# of scars on your body: Two or three.
What would you do if you could change one thing about your body?: Only one thing?

General Questions:

Describe yourself in three words: Withdrawn, Funny, Plastic.
Name three of your hobbies: Reading, Writing, RPing.
What clubs, social groups or sports have you participated in?: Marching Band. Journalism.
Did you attend public or private schools? Which would you prefer?: Don’t remember what I did in private school, that was in pre-school. Public is a’ight.
How many, and what kind, of posters are up on your walls?: I don’t have posters on my walls. My parents don’t like my creativity. Therefore my room is bland.
How many, and what kind, of pets do you have?: No pets. I’m horrible with them and so is my family.
Does your tea have sugar in it?: Of course.
How do you take your coffee?: Cream, sugar, lots of sugar.
What are you currently reading?: ’Tis, Gerald’s Game.
Thunderstorms, are they sexy or scary?: Neither and both.
What’s the first thing you think when you wake up?: I want thirty more minutes of sleep.
What is your zodiac sign?: Scorpio. You love the Topaz.
If you could have any one super power, what would you choose?: Invisibility.
Do you believe in love at first sight?: ...
Are you generally computer savvy?: Pretty much. If yes, then do you work best with hardware, software, or the Internet?: Internet.
What’s your favourite card game?: B.S.
What’s your favourite board game?: Does Taboo count?

What is Your Favourite...

TV Show: Sailor Moon, must agree with Nikki.
Movie: Beauty and the Beast, Hercules, Emperors New Groove, Final Destination.
Comedian: ...
Musician/Band/Composer: TBS, Saves The Day.
Type of Music:Whatever makes me happy.
Song: AAR : Paper Heart
Word: F’real?
Phrase: "And she said..."
Quotation: "And you kissed me like you meant it."
Author: Stephen King, Christopher Pike, Anne Rice, Laurell K. Hamilton.
Book: IT, The Midnight Club, Desperation.
Section of the Newspaper: Comics.
Magazine: YM.
Food: Baked potatoes.
Dessert: Peach cobbler!
Alcohol: ...
Restaurant: Red Lobster XD
Store: Foozles.
Hang-Out: My house. The band room. Denny’s.
Article of Clothing: My Chucks!
Job: Author/Writer.

Do These Words Have Positive, Negative, or Neutral Connotations?

Conformist: Negative.
Rebel: Neutral
Mass Media: Negative
Liberal: Negative
Conservative: Positive
Institution: Negative
Big Business: Negative
Normal: Neutral
Weird: Neutral

Optimist vs. Pessimist vs. Realist
Glass half full, half empty or a half a glass of water?: Half empty.
Has your experience in life been, in general, good or bad?: Good.
Are most other people kind or selfish?: Selfish.
A friend asks you the price of a shirt. You glance at the tag, which reads $10.60. Do you impulsively tell your friend "ten dollars", "eleven dollars" or "$10.60"?: 11 Dollars.

Slightly Deeper Musings

Do you identify with other people easily? Do you want to?: Specific people; I don’t really want to find myself similar every Jane and John in the world.
Would you rather suffer through (if you had to) ... one big pain, several smaller bursts of pain, or very very drawn out aching and discomfort?: One big pain.
You have three months left to live, how do you spend your remaining time?: Complete a novel, tell all my friends and family I love them, read the remaining Stephen King books, try to find the meaning of my existance.
What is the purpose of life?: Not sure.

You know you love the John Mayer lyric, hooray.
School today went pretty well.
Yes, Ollie, I’m refering to school again, muaha.
I think I actually passed my Geometry test.
WHICH IS AMAZING FOR ME. YAY.
Still way ahead in Science; almost done with Chapter 2 and the rest of the class is just now finishing up Chapter 1.
Test on Thursday, wish me’sa luck.
Finished Bag Of Bones.
Sad.
If you want to know what happens in it read it =)
Let’s say this:
Not your average ghost story.
Crazy storyline.

I got Gerald’s Game. Also another Stephen King book. He is my idol. I wish I could write as well as he does, yup yup.
I think the next book I’ll read will be Kaffir Boy though, I’ve heard it’s good.
I still have to finish Mary Reilly.
Have to start The Stand.
Need to read Angela’s Ashes.
My book plate is full for a month or so, yay.

LoVe,
Me.

Listening to:A Drag in D Flat - Saves The Day

Er, some people are so stupid.
Went to Apryl’s pool party/slumber party on Saturday.
Practically everyone knew that I didn’t know how to swim beforehand.
And I told the people that didn’t know already that day.
I was walking around the pool to get a pair of goggles and Jose, one of the DUMB ASSES there, decided to throw me into the deep end of the pool.
I almost drowned ._.
Then he remembered I couldn’t swim. (Lightbulb flickers on.)
And saved me.
Guys are stupid.
I cussed him out.
Cried.
Then stayed in the jacuzzi.
Why do most of the parties I go to wind up with someone getting hurt, emotionally or physically?

Warning: Male/Male relationship.
Sexual content.
Profanity.
Violence.
Incest.
Yet another work in progress.
Alissa’s mind rocks. Enjoy.

-x{.A.R.T.I.F.I.C.I.A.L.}x-
By: Me (Alissa Holly)
Steal my shit and I’ll kick your ass.


"Damn it, Reg, let me in."
Silence from inside of the bathroom.
Reggie leaned closer to the mirror, a thick coat of bubblegum pink lip gloss spread over supple bottom lip and thinner upper lip, flesh pressing upon flesh, soft smack giving the soft pop that he enjoyed to hear after applying lip gloss or lipstick.
His older sister continued to pound on the door for a long moment and eventually her knocks tapered off, the sound of her footfall down the hall giving Reggie the freedom needed to trace over his eyelids with a soft pink, then a purple as he blinked at himself in the mirror.
Long lashes curled upwards, mascara brush used to further curl them and darken them, visage rather feminine in the glow of the halogen lightbulb which flickered now and then.
Vaguely he wondered if Trina had paid the light bill and then he decided he didn’t want to know, better to not bitch at her, he wouldn’t get nagged in return.
If he did he would most likely leave in a bad mood and that was never good when he went for a night out.
Black boots, the heels tall, thick, laced up and ending near his calves were tugged on after the fishnet stockings, the skirt ending mid-thigh, black as well, showing off creamy pale thighs between small wedges of what appeared to be torn fabric.
The shirt fit snugly, a soft pink, sleeves long enough to cover slender fingers and chipped fingernail polish, black and red, nails short but kept healthy, not bitten down and not uneven either. Throat was decorated with a leather choker, studded, and hair fell in half disarray against his cheeks, long dark blue strands in front, bleached blonde and spiked upwards in back.
Multiple piercings galloped along his ears, shining, reflecting the light from the sole bulb (the others had long since burned out) as the young man straightened, looking himself over, piercing on his tongue glinting as he licked over his lower lip then edged out of the bathroom.
Perfection.
Too bad he felt hollow inside.
He wondered how long they’d have to live like this.
Two whores that were related, fighting all the time, having to scrounge for rent money..
Paying for cosmetics and revealing clothing when they could be using the dollars thrust at them by nameless men to pay the bills and buy food. It was pathetic really.

If mom were alive...

...she’d kick my ass for selling myself.

But it was partly Trina’s fault, wasn’t it?
She was the genius that told the court she could take care of dear ol’ Reggie.
Only sixteen.
Lost his parents.
But she could barely support her cocaine habit, let alone feed another mouth.
And so he had ended up resorting to the street method of working right along with her.

The smile that dawned painted lips as he stood on the corner was false, arm hooked around street light post as he leaned forward, baring skin and straight white teeth, along with fleshy pink tongue that ran over his bottom lip seductively. Lamp post was released, boots making barely a sound as he stepped into the street, and then he had leaned into the car, slender brow raising.
"Lookin’ for something?"
He asked, gaze flickering into the car, over the twenty-something man who was rather handsome.
"Of course I am."
This wasn’t one of the usual customers.
He was much more...at ease than those fidgety middle-aged-and-married-men who were worried over their wives finding out what they did when they were supposed to be working.
No, this man looked single and he didn’t have the air of one looking for a sympathy blow for twenty bucks either.
Reg took the movement of one hand towards the man to mean get in and did so.
The upholstery clung to a new car smell and the man himself looked clean-shaven, dark hair, straight, kept trimmed nicely, blue eyes shifting away from Reg’s stockinged, long legs and to the street in front of them as he pulled away from the curb.
Definitely not nervous.
Was Reg’s thought when one of those well-manicured hands slid up along the brief tears and ragged cloth of his stockings, easing the skirt up so that more thigh could be seen as well as snug fitting panties, home of a bulge that had begun to harden a little.
Reggie had spread his legs as the touch travelled upward, his eyes on the road just like the man next to him who was easily steering one-handedly.
"Give me a week."
The man said suddenly.
Reg’s gaze flickered over to him.
"E-excuse me?"
"Give me a week to let me fuck and use you. I’ll give you seven hundred dollars at the end of it. One hundred a day."
Reggie looked to him, one slender brow lifted, the question upon the carefully made face obvious.
You serious?
The man paid no mind to the curious and intent expression.
Reg settled back in his seat a bit skeptical, watching the hand that continued to stroke his thigh but didn’t quite move upward anymore, nor did it trail downwards.
"Can I stop at my house to get some things then?"
For the first time the blue of that gaze turned to him, "If you’d like."

It hadn’t taken long to pack seven days worth of clothes, make-up, and other daily necessities because Trina had already left for her night on the town.
He doubted she would miss him but he hoped there was some sort of sisterly love still in her somewhere.
It had been rather hard after their parents died. They’d been good people; loving. Moreso his mother, seeing that his father had been rather unkind sometimes. But a car crash had ended that, hadn’t it?
He supposed Trina used her cocaine habit to deal with it and he...well, he had his cosmetics and razors to take care of that.
Reg sat looking out the window, hand lifted slightly to rest on his head which was tilted a tad to one kind, gaze following the hazy orange whirl of streetlights as they were passed up.
"How’d you become a whore?"
Reg blinked at the window a moment, supposing he’d imagined the inquiry but when he turned the man was looking to him, line of vision shifting from him and to the road now and then.
Frankly, he was stunned. There had always seemed to be a delicate system of balance between client and prostitute, for him at least, that consisted of the client either being too nice or too mean but this man had worked his way right into the middle.
He said the words with neither a cold glare or smirk, but a curious expression which had often befallen the faces of those receiving their first blowjob by another male.
Reg shifted in place, shrugged, then looked away, struggling to ignore the feeling that his heart was trying to pound its way out of him by way of throat and mouth.
"Doesn’t every prostitute have some sort of history? Tragic, if you may. I didn’t think that any of those others on the street were functional. And, excuse the assumption, you didn’t seem to be doing very well in coping with your past either."
Was this total stranger really reading into things so well?
"I’ve never met a happy whore either," Reg murmured.
He was really going through with this. He was going to spend a week with the man next to him and he didn’t even know his name.
All this and more for seven hundred dollars, said the Gameshow host in his head, teeth razor sharp rather than pearly white and twinkling.
Reg blinked, twirled a strand of hair around his finger and then released it with a shake of his head, "I guess I’m not."
And what was supposed to come after this?
Telling this man, a complete stranger still, mind you, what his father had done to him?
About the nights spent curled up with his face to the wall, trying to feign sleep though the creak of floorboards let him know the man was coming to him again.
Night after night since he had turned five.
Yes, he had loved him all right. In a fucked up way.
How many times had he carefully parted Reg’s legs, whispering for him to not worry, that Mommy wouldn’t have to even know before he had hurt him again and again and--
"Pleasedon’ttouchme," he said, all in one breath as the mans hand came to rest on his leg again.
An eyebrow rose but the man nodded, letting his hand fall away, "I’ll want to touch you, you know, and your job description seems to give me permission to as long as I pay you."
Reg managed not to groan as he slid out of the car, once the man had done so as well, of course, and lightly rubbed his temples.
He had always wondered whether his father had done the same to Trina. If he had his sister had kept her silence just as he had.
Reg had never been good enough for him yet he came to his room continuously, waiting until both wife and daughter were sleeping to stick his cock where it didn’t belong.
Reg wasn’t sure exactly how long they had been riding in the car. Long enough for him to take a trip down memory lane.
A shame that memory lane was a sparse and desolate plain full of sharp rocks and long falls.
The house that stood in front of them, windows opened like widened eyes, mouth shut and most likely locked against intruders, was decent. Much better than musty hotel rooms and the upholstery of cars.
Reg followed the man up the walkway, bag in tow, the dull thud of his own heels starting to irritate him though he would soon be rid of them and lose an extra inch or two.
Reggie wasn’t too surprised to see a clean entry way, a living room, most likely unused, stood off to his left, two couches, a big screen television, white carpet which looked about ready to eat his feet and toes as soon as he placed a curious step onto it. The front hall led directly into the kitchen and den, two car garage entered by way of a side door near the first step that lead to the second story.
The house was mostly set in a black, white and gold scheme, the pictures ranging from landscapes to the odd, to black and white photos. All done by famous artists whose names Reggie could barely even pronounce.
He was suddenly sure that the man who was locking the door behind them could afford to pay much more than seven hundred dollars for a week of fucking.
"Upstairs."
The single word suceeded in interrupting Reg’s thoughts. He glanced to him, paused near the steps to pull off the rather extravagant boots, and then he was wandering up them in stockinged feet, passing by closed doors on his way through the upstairs hall, stopping at the end to look in upon a dimly lit master bedroom. The bedsheets were black, a veil of netted black draped around it, acting as a canopy, and the candles around the room made Reggie think not of prostitute and client but of lovers.
He had halted unsurely in the doorway but now he nearly jumped, the feel of the mans hand resting just above his elbow, leading him a little farther inside and gently taking the duffle bag from him.
Reg allowed his bag to be taken to the closet and then wandered over to the bed, pushing the veiling aside, climbing atop of it. The pillow cases were black as well and only now did he notice the scattering of rose petals upon the sheets, red and white.
Well, this set up had to be a mistake, who would--
"Do you like it?" The man was sinking down next to him, in fact a little over him, gaze roaming over his figure, seeming to pick out the most minute details, lips brushing close enough to kiss.
"Yes...but..."
He trailed off, confused, as the mans index finger pressed upon his lips, silencing him.
He blinked at him under the cloak of quiet that fell and then allowed himself to be lowered a bit more. He came to a rest with the man on top of him, well-trained fingers grazing over his chest and stomach, pushing gently upward, the fabric raising to show bare and soft flesh, the glint of nipple rings, an amused smirk easing onto his face as he removed the article of clothing.
Tip of wet muscle ran over cold steel, the flesh pierced by it hardening to the touch of expert fingers before the man glanced up to him.
"Close your eyes."
He obeyed rather easily, nodding woodenly, world sheathed in darkness, a movement making him turn his head slightly though a bit before he could properly register the sound a finger was tilting his chin upward, forward.
Black silk was wrapped tight around his eyes, keeping the vision of the man and the room a blank and black slate, full of confusion.
Reg stared up and into the blindfold a long moment, back arching upward due to a gentle tug to one nipple, and then the skin along his navel was being moistened.
"You’ll be a slut for me."
Words breathed gently into his ear before it was kissed, the mans tongue flicking against it, teeth tugging on it.
"But I don’t want to hear you scream."
Something was rubbed across his lips as his head was lifted again.
Buckles snapped into place, rubber ball secure between candy coated lips. A ball gag.
His hands were held, raised up some, and then more silk was used to tie them to each post, knotted tight enough so he couldn’t loosen them on his own.
Reg wanted to speak, to decide he had had second thoughts about all of this but the only movement the gag allowed was the push of tongue against rubber material.
A moan, muffled, as the skirt was pushed slowly upwards, skin stroked by thumbs through the stockings before stockings and panties were pulled down together, hardened cock barely concealed beneath the remaining clothing.
"You’re scared...yet you’re hard as a rock."
Reg swallowed, thickly, blinking rapidly into the darkness, and then turned his head towards the voice.
"You like being hurt."
Quiet from Reg except for the slightest of sniffles.
Change in position brought the mans lips close to his ear again as a hand stroked one cheek, "You’re used to it."
He could neither deny it or agree, though it didn’t matter whether he was tongue tied or not.
Reg wanted the man to keep talking so that he’d know where he was, what he was doing. At the odd interval of silence he became uneasy, a tad antsy though his squirming was stilled by the press of the mans fingers against his bare stomach. He didn’t explain why he’d done nothing for at least three minutes but any explanation that was wanted was forgotten as his legs were gently spread. Next...next was penetration.

"Do we have to again?"
Hair mussed from sleep, eyes squinting as he watched his father shut the door behind himself, already loosening the tie on his pajama bottoms.
Reggie was already beginning to feel that slow unease that built and built each time his father so much as glanced to him and now another bit was added to the stack.
"You know I love you, Reggie." A whisper as he lowered himself atop of him, bending his head down to kiss the disheveled locks of brunette, the boys nose scrunching slightly though no complaint was given.
Reggie simply nodded, eyes already watering as the man turned him over and onto his stomach, trailing a fingertip along the boys bare back, lowering it to tug down the pajama bottoms, revealing the rear he had washed while the boy sat in the tub only about three years ago. Boys did grow fast, however, and the six year old underneath him could wash his own behind though his father didn’t mind looking at it now and then.
He gave the boy no warning before he slid in, the entrance snug, warm, a tight fit that made the boy cry out against the hand clasped over his mouth.
Tears strolled slowly down his cheeks, wetting the fingers over his mouth, a hitched sob stifled as soft grunts accompanied each painful thrust, the feel of his father pushing and pushing heightened by the sudden stroking of something pleasurable inside of him and then he had soiled the sheets underneath him, biting his lower lip hard enough to bleed, inching away as soon as the warmth was done spilling into him.

He was laying upon a slightly damp pillow, his eyes opened, the covers draped haphazardly over bare waist and legs.
Reg was staring towards the wall, wondering how many times he had been submitted to the methodic rape before he had begun to enjoy the pain given.
He cried but his body rejoiced. While his eyes leaked tears the head of his cock spurted his seed all over the bedsheets.
It made no sense.
But maybe that was why he cut himself. Because...he liked the feeling.
"Who did it?"
He hadn’t even noticed the man had come back from the shower he had taken. Reg sat up some, glancing to him, eyebrows raised.
"What?"
The man half smiled and Reggie didn’t know whether to be charmed or repulsed. He had whispered things into the cup of Reg’s ear, the words formed to make him feel uncomfortable and blush and...it had gotten him off.
He had bruises along his sides from how hard the older male had yanked him upward, forward, moaning in his ear, and he had plenty of bite marks and hickies along his body but...he didn’t mind any of this.
He wouldn’t have minded if the other had taken a razor and slid it along his thighs. In fact, he probably would have orgasmed quicker.
"I mean...who fucked you up."
Was that supposed to be some sort of joke?
Reg frowned softly and then shook his head, "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
He laid back, as though defeated, and stared up at the ceiling a long moment.
The silence made him uneasy, very much so, and he was glad when the man actually moved, lowering himself onto the bed next to him.
"I don’t know what you’re so afraid of."
The response was quiet, whispered as lips pressed upon the warm flesh of his cheek, fingertips stroking downward, caressing over his stomach and then stroking up.
He felt as though he were being lulled to sleep and his eyelids had indeed fell closed. A hard tug to his strengthening erection made him flutter both eyes open again, a faint and stunned gasp coming from him as he sat up, staring at him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed.
"Cut the bullshit, Reggie, you like it."
This comment stunned him into a confused expression.
He opened his mouth, closed it, and then laid down again, slowly.
"You punish yourself for liking it but it doesn’t quite work because you enjoy the punishments as well."
Silence.
He only half resisted as his hands were lifted, turned so that the man, now straddling him, could see the faint scars along his wrist.
"Who did this Reg?"
Downward tug of both lips.
"You did, didn’t you?"
His eyes had begun to water, tears sprouted like sorrowful diamond drops upon both cheeks when palm and fingers connected to bare flesh.
He’d slapped him.
"You’re going to tell me who screwed you up sometime during the next seven days, you understand that?"
Sullen nod and then the weight had left his stomach, giving him a chance to roll over, cup the burning print of the mans hand.
He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep but he did.

Heat. Powerful thrusts, the groan of the mattress and his own panted breaths.
"Daddy! Daddy! Ah...ah..."
Breathless, wide-eyed, gaze accusing as the man tugged his legs over each shoulder, made him bend, used toes to lift himself more easily, filling the passage with pulsing flesh.
Impossible to tell why his father was doing this to him again.
Night after night he came to him. Put his thing into him.
While the teacher at school explained what a man and woman did to create a child he was sore from his father abusing him down there.
He had asked his father once if he knew he was supposed to put it inside of Mommy, not him. The man had smacked him, hissed for him to shut up and now, now...
"Moan for Daddy, Reggie."
Grunted, animalistic as those fingers bruised him, pulling him, stretching him.
Then...then...
"Christ, Reg."
Burning pain before juices spilled into him, out of him at the same time.
Wasted. That gush of liquid from his dad was supposed to have created a baby but now it was slipping down his thighs, staining his sheets, another embarassing stain which his mother would blame on wet dreams.
The thick shaft slid out of him a little, then slowly back in, movements still painful but now more easy to do, the entrance slicked up with the mans cum.
"You don’t have to suck me tonight, Reg."
As though he had wanted to.
He hurt, god how he hurt.

"I only wanted to give you a wake up call."
Reggie lay wide-eyed, staring up at the man atop of him who was rooted inside of him, hips stilled, gaze solemn.
Reg groaned, softly, and then laid back, shaking his head, rubbing his face. Just now realizing he was hard and throbbing.
One hell of a wake-up call but it seemed as though the call had lasted some time and it did nothing to help the nightmare.
He knew he had swung at him, could tell my the fading mark of his nails upon the others cheek. He sighed softly, then lifted his hips slightly, experimentally, settling again as the man slid out of him.
"What’d you dream?"
He had moved to lay down next to him, arm easing around the younger males shoulders, bringing him closer before his lips had pressed lightly to Reg’s cheek.

He, William, also known as Will, Detective Downns, hadn’t expected to have so much trouble getting the boy to talk. He knew he had seen the boy somewhere and now he knew where. Make up and the fact that the seven year old was now nine years older hadn’t stopped that.
There had been a screech of rubbed before the car had flipped, machine designed for transportation suddenly landing with a sickening crunch, wrong way up. A man in the front seat, a woman in the passengers side; both rather dead by the time the rescue units and police force, including himself had arrived. They had pulled them out carefully, searching for identification and had found it in the mans wallet.
He had remembered flipping through the pictures. A girl with her fathers blonde hair and pale eyes, hugging a boy with brown hair and darker eyes, who smiled almost nervously towards the camera. The backdrop had been woods of some type, they had been camping.
Flip.
The brown haired boy again, looking fairly wary of the whale swimming behind him at a water park, behind a thick layer of glass. Another of those unsure smiles.
He had kept those pictures, wondering if it was normal for a married man to put a picture of his son in swimming trunks at the beach in front of the picture of him and his wife at the altar.
He had been twenty then and it had fascinated him that someone would have so many photos of his son when he had a wife and daughter.
He had been the one to volunteer to tell the children what had happened. The girl was older, babysitting her little brother and had broken down into tears. He remembered the boy distinctly asking if his mother was okay. Nothing about the man who had a wallet full of pictures of him.
Will had been intrigued when he had seen the boy flaunting his wares on the corner. Intrigued and a bit disappointed. He had wondered what had happened to the nervous boy in the pictures, one of which showed him collecting shells at the beach.
There had been no reason for him to be on 5th street; he was off for the week. But he had been cruising around anyway. And now...now he had an armful of sobbing teenager in his arms.
He was thoroughly pissed, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that before. He had kept those pictures for years and had only danced around the real issue: the boy had been molested by his father, three years at the most.
If the man wasn’t dead Will probably would have killed him himself.
Now he knew why the boy cried at night and cringed when he was touched without permission.
He hadn’t had a chance to be a child. He had always been someones toy.