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maculategiraffeAllinarush. :P I'll catch up on the comments to all these chapters at a time, I guess. Y'all don't mind, do you?
Rita's office was full of women, or at least it looked full to a quick glance. Kyle recognized most of them-- Rita's two personal assistants, Leah and Bonnie, Leah seated at Rita's desk with a notepad and pen, Bonnie holding the edge of a dagger over a lighted candle flame-- and Tanya, the seer, kneeling on the floor and peering with interest into a silver bowl full of water. The woman he didn't recognize, a somewhat steely-eyed blonde, was standing off to the side with her arms crossed, wearing a black robe. None of the other women were officially robed, except Rita herself, who was sitting on the floor, half in and half out of the discolored circle on the carpet-- no actual circle had been cast yet, Kyle saw-- with her arm around Sean, who had buried his eyes against her shoulder.
"Kyle," said Rita, and Sean looked up, wildly; Kyle felt, to his surprise, a twinge of sympathy. There was no way Sean was used to being around this many women at one time; Kyle had some experience with it, but it still made him a bit nervous, and here was poor Sean, fresh from the center and flung into the middle of some elaborate ritual designed to deprive him of his maidenhead.
Rita slipped her arm from around Sean and stood, leaving Sean sitting on the floor as she came to Kyle and put her hands on his shoulders. Kyle shivered a little at her touch, looking into her eyes.
"I want you to help Sean," she said softly. "He's very frightened, and I think having another man here might help him to relax."
Kyle bowed his head in assent, and Rita put one hand on his back to prod him gently towards Sean. He went obediently to kneel down next to Sean, who looked up at him with huge green eyes-- greener than Kyle's own, which tended towards a muddy hazel-- and didn't speak.
"Hey," Kyle said, not finding it as difficult to sound gentle as he would have thought. "It's okay."
Sean's glance darted around the room, from Carol to the woman in red to Tanya, and settled on Bonnie, now testing the edge of the dagger with her thumb. Kyle put a hand on his back, and Sean stiffened for a moment, then looked back at Kyle.
"It's okay," said Kyle again, his voice low, to avoid disturbing the women's concentration. "They know what they're doing. They'll take care of you. You're-- valuable."
Despite the involuntary bitterness in the last word-- since Kyle himself was now worthless, in the sense he meant-- Sean relaxed a little as he kept his eyes on Kyle's face.
"They'll tell you what to do," said Kyle, rubbing Sean's back a little through his white T-shirt. Sean was awfully thin, something Kyle had noticed before; his ribs had showed when he was naked. Kyle tried to push down a surge of anger and shame at the memory of what he'd actually been doing when Sean was naked, as he continued, "All you have to do is obey."
Sean nodded, then groped out with fierce suddenness for Kyle's free hand and grabbed it in his, squeezing it hard. Kyle didn't squeeze back, but he didn't pull away, either.
They sat there for a little while, in silence broken only by Leah's scribbling on her notepad, until Rita said gently, "Kyle, help Sean undress."
Sean's hand tightened even more on Kyle's; Kyle managed to smile at him, though he didn't know how reassuring the smile was likely to be.
"Let go," he said. "It's okay. It's an honor."
"Aunt Rita," said Carol loudly, and Kyle and Sean both looked up, startled.
"There is no reason for concern, Carol," said Rita firmly. "If you feel you cannot control yourself, you may leave the room."
Carol scowled, but didn't move.
"Kyle," said Rita.
Kyle pried his hand out of Sean's and reached for the edges of Sean's T-shirt.
"Lift up your arms," he said.
Sean didn't move.
Kyle lowered his voice to a fierce whisper. "You want them to get mad? Come on, Sean."
Sean lifted up his arms and let Kyle pull off his shirt. Then he reached for the button and zipper of his own jeans, undid them without Kyle's help, and slid out of them, and his underwear, without standing up. Carol stepped forward, making Sean flinch, and gathered the clothes up in her arms, folding them carefully and setting them on Rita's desk.
"Kyle isn't helping," said Bonnie, addressing Rita. "He was for a while, but now I think he's making it worse."
"Carol's not helping, either," said Tanya, without looking up from her bowl.
"I didn't do anything," said Carol. "Aunt Rita said they can't even tell."
"Wait," said Rita, her voice quiet and reassuring. "Time is not an issue. Let them get settled down."
"It's okay," said Kyle, yet again, to Sean, and reached out to take Sean's hand in his, squeezing it. After a moment, Sean squeezed back. "There you go. Nothing to worry about. Hey, not every guy gets to lose his maidenhead to a magistra."
Leah laughed at that-- she'd always liked Kyle, and when Kyle risked a quick, appreciative glance up at her, she winked at him, which made him feel better about the silence that ensued, broken by Rita saying, "Carol."
Carol stepped forward, and Bonnie handed her a wooden bowl of something that had been sitting on the shelf beside the candle. Kyle pulled Sean out of the way as Carol started carefully pouring the crystalline powder onto the carpet, along the line that Rita always used, murmuring under her breath as she did. Bonnie followed her with a big chalice from which she poured water, wetting the salt and whatever else they were using-- Kyle had no idea-- in the same careful circle.
"They're not going to hurt you," Kyle whispered in Sean's ear, because Sean had started to tremble. "It's not that kind of a circle."
When the circle was complete, Bonnie picked up the dagger again and handed it to Rita, who came towards Sean, holding it lightly by the hilt. Sean shrank against Kyle, who pushed him away, a little roughly.
"Into the circle," Rita told Sean gently, but Sean didn't move. "Sean."
Sean stared up at her, and finally got up and stepped over the line of salt into the circle. Rita stepped in, too, shifted the dagger to her left hand, and reached for Sean's penis with her right; Sean stepped back quickly, out of the circle.
There was a general gasp from the women, and the one in red stepped away from the wall, uncrossing her arms. Sean whimpered, but didn't move.
"What's wrong with him?" Carol demanded, her voice high and strained.
Kyle, still on his knees, was wondering the same thing, although actually it was fairly obvious; Sean was panicking, and there was nothing Kyle could do to help. Considering what had happened the last time Sean was naked around Kyle, probably quite the contrary. Anyway, it was probably too late; given the abundance of potential fathers out there, Rita wouldn't waste a lot of time coddling a skittish maiden who didn't even have the good sense to stay inside a circle where he'd been placed.
"Sean," said Rita, "I've already promised you that I won't hurt you. Step inside the circle, and we can finish the ritual."
Sean backed up again.
Well, so much for him.
Carol turned and left the room, closing the door behind her with a slight bang that made Sean jump. Kyle wasn't all that surprised; she wouldn't have seen a lot of outright disobedience from males in her life, and she wouldn't want to lose control in front of her aunt. The other women, better trained, looked at Rita, who just looked sad.
"Very well," she said, and kicked the line of salt efficiently with her toe, breaking the circle. "Kyle, take Sean-- and his clothes-- and go wait for me in my bedroom."
Kyle rose carefully, took Sean's hand in one of his, and pulled his arm sharply enough to get him moving, pausing at Rita's desk to gather the folded clothes swiftly with his free hand. He dragged Sean, without looking at him, out the door, and the few yards down the hall to Rita's bedroom, where he shut the door behind them and thrust Sean's clothes at him. Sean didn't move to take them, and he didn't seem to see them as they fell to the floor at his feet.
"What-- what just happened?" he whispered.
"You fucked up, dude," said Kyle, picking up the clothes from the floor and putting them neatly on the carefully made bed. "You disobeyed her, and you stepped out of the circle-- you fucked up the ritual. Now she's got to decide whether to get rid of you right now, or give you another chance."
"Get rid of me?" Sean stared as if Kyle had grown another head. "But-- do you mean-- send me back? To the center?"
"I guess," said Kyle. "You didn't exactly earn an honorable retirement."
"But--" Sean's knees buckled under him, and he crashed heavily to the floor; sighing, Kyle sat down next to him. "But I-- but will she-- let me try again?"
"She might," said Kyle, shrugging, although he didn't really feel very nonchalant about it; Sean's pallor was disturbing, as was the fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his face. "I don't know. There are plenty of guys who would kill to be where you are right now, and probably most of them could manage to stand still in a circle for ten seconds without chickening out."
He could have gone on, about Sean's stupidity and disobedience and cowardice and general worthlessness, but, looking at Sean's face, he didn't.
"I can't go back to the center," said Sean, his lips bloodless and quivering. "I can't, Kyle, I can't stand it, I can't--"
"Maybe you won't have to," said Kyle, feeling slightly sick as Sean started to cry, silently, horribly, tears slipping down his rigid cheeks, his face going red and white in mottled patches. "She's-- she might give you another chance. She's probably talking about it with them, in there. That's why she sent us in here. She'll think about it, for sure, before she sends you back. You're lucky-- Emily would probably have just killed you on the spot."
"I'd rather that than go back to the center," said Sean, rather melodramatically in Kyle's opinion, but there wasn't really any room to doubt that he believed what he was saying. "It was bad enough-- before-- but going back-- and it's all my fault--"
Kyle wasn't going to argue with that.
"You should get dressed," he said, after a minute. "It's easier to take anything with your clothes on."
Sean shook his head, tears still pouring down his face, trembling. "I just-- when she reached for me-- back at the center-- everyone used to-- grab me-- all the time-- I--"
Oh, hell. Kyle felt even sicker, thinking of how he'd grabbed Sean himself, rubbed him roughly to his erection and left him trembling on the bed, reveling in his tiny act of revenge: he might have been replaced, but at least he'd made his rival really uncomfortable. How did Kyle know it wasn't his own fault Sean had gotten spooked when Rita reached for him? Maybe he would have done just fine if he'd still been able to think of Rita's house as his safe haven from the center, instead of the place where people continued to grab him angrily by the dick. What was the poor guy supposed to think? Surrounded by women, and the only man in the place was Kyle, who'd made it clear how much he disliked him-- sure he'd panicked. Maybe most men wouldn't, but Sean was obviously nervous by nature, and was that his fault?
Kyle was glaring at the floor, hating himself and everyone else and refusing to watch Sean cry, when the door opened and Rita came in, looking grave. Sean folded himself up and bowed his forehead to the floor, still shaking with silent sobs. Kyle looked up at his protectrix, trying to read Sean's fate in her expression as she looked back at him.
"Kyle," she said, and Kyle tensed, surprised that she was addressing him instead of Sean. "I've been discussing Sean's behavior with my colleagues, and we were unable to reach a consensus regarding whether we should continue trying to work with Sean, or return him to the center and find a more tractable male."
Kyle nodded, still refusing to look at Sean, who huddled at the periphery of his vision, quivering and making little rasping noises.
"The decision is, of course, ultimately mine to make," said Rita. "However, I have chosen to delegate it to you."
Kyle blinked up at her, not understanding.
"I want you to decide whether I give Sean another chance," said Rita, "or send him away and try again with someone else. I can see reason on both sides, so the decision is yours, and I promise you I will abide by it, without questioning you about your reasons. If you tell me you want me to withdraw my protection from Sean and return him to the center, then-- you never have to see him again."
She regarded him steadily as she added, "I need hardly add that I did not tell the other women I was giving you the choice. The idea would be-- nonsensical, to them. But I value your opinion, and this is a matter that affects you considerably, so. What do you say?"
Kyle didn't particularly like himself for hesitating, but he did hesitate, for a minute that probably felt like a century to Sean. Then he said, forcing the words out, "Let him stay."
Sean made a sound like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water, a wet, dragging gulp of air, as Rita said, "Very well," turned, and left without another word.
When the door had closed behind her, Sean started to cry out loud, big racking sobs, curling himself into a ball on the floor and weeping into his knees. Kyle reached out, after a minute, and put a hand on his back, rubbing it awkwardly, feeling the bumps of his spine and ribs, too close to the surface.
"Shhh," he said. "It's okay."
Sean just kept sobbing for a few minutes, and then, slowly, quieted. When his back stopped shaking and Kyle started to pull his hand away, Sean reached out for it, groping, uncurling himself clumsily, just enough to bring Kyle's hand to his tear-wet face and press it, fiercely, to his lips. Kyle laughed, taken aback, not sure whether to pull his hand away or not. He didn't.
"It's okay," he said again. "You don't have to--"
Sean struggled up from the ground and launched himself into Kyle's arms, wrapping his own arms around Kyle's back, breathing heavily.
"Whoa," said Kyle, knocked off balance, and steadied himself on his hands before he put a tentative arm around Sean and patted him on the back in a manner that he hoped was soothing-ish. "Hey there. Man, that center must have been even shittier than the one I was at."
"Thank you," Sean whispered. "Thank you, thank you--"
"No problem," said Kyle, still patting Sean's back, more or less automatically. "Just settle down, okay?"
Sean clung to him, his head heavy on Kyle's shoulder, and Kyle reached up to touch Sean's cropped hair, patting his head for a minute, and then letting his hand slide back down to Sean's bony back. It was a little unnerving to be clutched so desperately-- but not really in a bad way. It made him feel pretty good about himself, actually. Almost like somebody's protectrix, even if he was a man. A protector.
He smiled a little at the absurdity of the thought, running an absent-minded fingertip up and down the knobbles of Sean's spine.
"Listen," he said eventually, the words coming more easily than he'd expected. "I'm sorry I was all-- you know, when she told me to get you ready-- I'm sorry I was so rough with you. I shouldn't have just grabbed your dick like that. It won't be-- when she takes your maidenhead-- it won't be like that. She's really-- you know-- gentle. It doesn't hurt, it feels-- great, I mean, amazing, seriously. It's--"
He swallowed, pushing away the memory of just how amazing it felt to sink his hard cock inside the sweet welcoming heat of Rita's body, losing himself in the rhythm of his thrusts as she cried out softly beneath him-- it was no good thinking, it was no good remembering, it was over, done with-- and added firmly to Sean, "It's nothing to get freaked out about. You'll be okay, next time. Just don't freak yourself out."
Sean nodded against his shoulder.
"Thank you," he whispered again.
His grip had loosened enough that Kyle could ease him off without roughness, so he did, pulling himself back slightly so that they sat side by side on the floor.
"There you go," he said, looking at Sean's puffy, wet, blotched face, at the green eyes blinking at him as if just waking up, or emerging from a darkened room. "Take it easy, man. You're going to do fine."
Rita's office was full of women, or at least it looked full to a quick glance. Kyle recognized most of them-- Rita's two personal assistants, Leah and Bonnie, Leah seated at Rita's desk with a notepad and pen, Bonnie holding the edge of a dagger over a lighted candle flame-- and Tanya, the seer, kneeling on the floor and peering with interest into a silver bowl full of water. The woman he didn't recognize, a somewhat steely-eyed blonde, was standing off to the side with her arms crossed, wearing a black robe. None of the other women were officially robed, except Rita herself, who was sitting on the floor, half in and half out of the discolored circle on the carpet-- no actual circle had been cast yet, Kyle saw-- with her arm around Sean, who had buried his eyes against her shoulder.
"Kyle," said Rita, and Sean looked up, wildly; Kyle felt, to his surprise, a twinge of sympathy. There was no way Sean was used to being around this many women at one time; Kyle had some experience with it, but it still made him a bit nervous, and here was poor Sean, fresh from the center and flung into the middle of some elaborate ritual designed to deprive him of his maidenhead.
Rita slipped her arm from around Sean and stood, leaving Sean sitting on the floor as she came to Kyle and put her hands on his shoulders. Kyle shivered a little at her touch, looking into her eyes.
"I want you to help Sean," she said softly. "He's very frightened, and I think having another man here might help him to relax."
Kyle bowed his head in assent, and Rita put one hand on his back to prod him gently towards Sean. He went obediently to kneel down next to Sean, who looked up at him with huge green eyes-- greener than Kyle's own, which tended towards a muddy hazel-- and didn't speak.
"Hey," Kyle said, not finding it as difficult to sound gentle as he would have thought. "It's okay."
Sean's glance darted around the room, from Carol to the woman in red to Tanya, and settled on Bonnie, now testing the edge of the dagger with her thumb. Kyle put a hand on his back, and Sean stiffened for a moment, then looked back at Kyle.
"It's okay," said Kyle again, his voice low, to avoid disturbing the women's concentration. "They know what they're doing. They'll take care of you. You're-- valuable."
Despite the involuntary bitterness in the last word-- since Kyle himself was now worthless, in the sense he meant-- Sean relaxed a little as he kept his eyes on Kyle's face.
"They'll tell you what to do," said Kyle, rubbing Sean's back a little through his white T-shirt. Sean was awfully thin, something Kyle had noticed before; his ribs had showed when he was naked. Kyle tried to push down a surge of anger and shame at the memory of what he'd actually been doing when Sean was naked, as he continued, "All you have to do is obey."
Sean nodded, then groped out with fierce suddenness for Kyle's free hand and grabbed it in his, squeezing it hard. Kyle didn't squeeze back, but he didn't pull away, either.
They sat there for a little while, in silence broken only by Leah's scribbling on her notepad, until Rita said gently, "Kyle, help Sean undress."
Sean's hand tightened even more on Kyle's; Kyle managed to smile at him, though he didn't know how reassuring the smile was likely to be.
"Let go," he said. "It's okay. It's an honor."
"Aunt Rita," said Carol loudly, and Kyle and Sean both looked up, startled.
"There is no reason for concern, Carol," said Rita firmly. "If you feel you cannot control yourself, you may leave the room."
Carol scowled, but didn't move.
"Kyle," said Rita.
Kyle pried his hand out of Sean's and reached for the edges of Sean's T-shirt.
"Lift up your arms," he said.
Sean didn't move.
Kyle lowered his voice to a fierce whisper. "You want them to get mad? Come on, Sean."
Sean lifted up his arms and let Kyle pull off his shirt. Then he reached for the button and zipper of his own jeans, undid them without Kyle's help, and slid out of them, and his underwear, without standing up. Carol stepped forward, making Sean flinch, and gathered the clothes up in her arms, folding them carefully and setting them on Rita's desk.
"Kyle isn't helping," said Bonnie, addressing Rita. "He was for a while, but now I think he's making it worse."
"Carol's not helping, either," said Tanya, without looking up from her bowl.
"I didn't do anything," said Carol. "Aunt Rita said they can't even tell."
"Wait," said Rita, her voice quiet and reassuring. "Time is not an issue. Let them get settled down."
"It's okay," said Kyle, yet again, to Sean, and reached out to take Sean's hand in his, squeezing it. After a moment, Sean squeezed back. "There you go. Nothing to worry about. Hey, not every guy gets to lose his maidenhead to a magistra."
Leah laughed at that-- she'd always liked Kyle, and when Kyle risked a quick, appreciative glance up at her, she winked at him, which made him feel better about the silence that ensued, broken by Rita saying, "Carol."
Carol stepped forward, and Bonnie handed her a wooden bowl of something that had been sitting on the shelf beside the candle. Kyle pulled Sean out of the way as Carol started carefully pouring the crystalline powder onto the carpet, along the line that Rita always used, murmuring under her breath as she did. Bonnie followed her with a big chalice from which she poured water, wetting the salt and whatever else they were using-- Kyle had no idea-- in the same careful circle.
"They're not going to hurt you," Kyle whispered in Sean's ear, because Sean had started to tremble. "It's not that kind of a circle."
When the circle was complete, Bonnie picked up the dagger again and handed it to Rita, who came towards Sean, holding it lightly by the hilt. Sean shrank against Kyle, who pushed him away, a little roughly.
"Into the circle," Rita told Sean gently, but Sean didn't move. "Sean."
Sean stared up at her, and finally got up and stepped over the line of salt into the circle. Rita stepped in, too, shifted the dagger to her left hand, and reached for Sean's penis with her right; Sean stepped back quickly, out of the circle.
There was a general gasp from the women, and the one in red stepped away from the wall, uncrossing her arms. Sean whimpered, but didn't move.
"What's wrong with him?" Carol demanded, her voice high and strained.
Kyle, still on his knees, was wondering the same thing, although actually it was fairly obvious; Sean was panicking, and there was nothing Kyle could do to help. Considering what had happened the last time Sean was naked around Kyle, probably quite the contrary. Anyway, it was probably too late; given the abundance of potential fathers out there, Rita wouldn't waste a lot of time coddling a skittish maiden who didn't even have the good sense to stay inside a circle where he'd been placed.
"Sean," said Rita, "I've already promised you that I won't hurt you. Step inside the circle, and we can finish the ritual."
Sean backed up again.
Well, so much for him.
Carol turned and left the room, closing the door behind her with a slight bang that made Sean jump. Kyle wasn't all that surprised; she wouldn't have seen a lot of outright disobedience from males in her life, and she wouldn't want to lose control in front of her aunt. The other women, better trained, looked at Rita, who just looked sad.
"Very well," she said, and kicked the line of salt efficiently with her toe, breaking the circle. "Kyle, take Sean-- and his clothes-- and go wait for me in my bedroom."
Kyle rose carefully, took Sean's hand in one of his, and pulled his arm sharply enough to get him moving, pausing at Rita's desk to gather the folded clothes swiftly with his free hand. He dragged Sean, without looking at him, out the door, and the few yards down the hall to Rita's bedroom, where he shut the door behind them and thrust Sean's clothes at him. Sean didn't move to take them, and he didn't seem to see them as they fell to the floor at his feet.
"What-- what just happened?" he whispered.
"You fucked up, dude," said Kyle, picking up the clothes from the floor and putting them neatly on the carefully made bed. "You disobeyed her, and you stepped out of the circle-- you fucked up the ritual. Now she's got to decide whether to get rid of you right now, or give you another chance."
"Get rid of me?" Sean stared as if Kyle had grown another head. "But-- do you mean-- send me back? To the center?"
"I guess," said Kyle. "You didn't exactly earn an honorable retirement."
"But--" Sean's knees buckled under him, and he crashed heavily to the floor; sighing, Kyle sat down next to him. "But I-- but will she-- let me try again?"
"She might," said Kyle, shrugging, although he didn't really feel very nonchalant about it; Sean's pallor was disturbing, as was the fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his face. "I don't know. There are plenty of guys who would kill to be where you are right now, and probably most of them could manage to stand still in a circle for ten seconds without chickening out."
He could have gone on, about Sean's stupidity and disobedience and cowardice and general worthlessness, but, looking at Sean's face, he didn't.
"I can't go back to the center," said Sean, his lips bloodless and quivering. "I can't, Kyle, I can't stand it, I can't--"
"Maybe you won't have to," said Kyle, feeling slightly sick as Sean started to cry, silently, horribly, tears slipping down his rigid cheeks, his face going red and white in mottled patches. "She's-- she might give you another chance. She's probably talking about it with them, in there. That's why she sent us in here. She'll think about it, for sure, before she sends you back. You're lucky-- Emily would probably have just killed you on the spot."
"I'd rather that than go back to the center," said Sean, rather melodramatically in Kyle's opinion, but there wasn't really any room to doubt that he believed what he was saying. "It was bad enough-- before-- but going back-- and it's all my fault--"
Kyle wasn't going to argue with that.
"You should get dressed," he said, after a minute. "It's easier to take anything with your clothes on."
Sean shook his head, tears still pouring down his face, trembling. "I just-- when she reached for me-- back at the center-- everyone used to-- grab me-- all the time-- I--"
Oh, hell. Kyle felt even sicker, thinking of how he'd grabbed Sean himself, rubbed him roughly to his erection and left him trembling on the bed, reveling in his tiny act of revenge: he might have been replaced, but at least he'd made his rival really uncomfortable. How did Kyle know it wasn't his own fault Sean had gotten spooked when Rita reached for him? Maybe he would have done just fine if he'd still been able to think of Rita's house as his safe haven from the center, instead of the place where people continued to grab him angrily by the dick. What was the poor guy supposed to think? Surrounded by women, and the only man in the place was Kyle, who'd made it clear how much he disliked him-- sure he'd panicked. Maybe most men wouldn't, but Sean was obviously nervous by nature, and was that his fault?
Kyle was glaring at the floor, hating himself and everyone else and refusing to watch Sean cry, when the door opened and Rita came in, looking grave. Sean folded himself up and bowed his forehead to the floor, still shaking with silent sobs. Kyle looked up at his protectrix, trying to read Sean's fate in her expression as she looked back at him.
"Kyle," she said, and Kyle tensed, surprised that she was addressing him instead of Sean. "I've been discussing Sean's behavior with my colleagues, and we were unable to reach a consensus regarding whether we should continue trying to work with Sean, or return him to the center and find a more tractable male."
Kyle nodded, still refusing to look at Sean, who huddled at the periphery of his vision, quivering and making little rasping noises.
"The decision is, of course, ultimately mine to make," said Rita. "However, I have chosen to delegate it to you."
Kyle blinked up at her, not understanding.
"I want you to decide whether I give Sean another chance," said Rita, "or send him away and try again with someone else. I can see reason on both sides, so the decision is yours, and I promise you I will abide by it, without questioning you about your reasons. If you tell me you want me to withdraw my protection from Sean and return him to the center, then-- you never have to see him again."
She regarded him steadily as she added, "I need hardly add that I did not tell the other women I was giving you the choice. The idea would be-- nonsensical, to them. But I value your opinion, and this is a matter that affects you considerably, so. What do you say?"
Kyle didn't particularly like himself for hesitating, but he did hesitate, for a minute that probably felt like a century to Sean. Then he said, forcing the words out, "Let him stay."
Sean made a sound like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water, a wet, dragging gulp of air, as Rita said, "Very well," turned, and left without another word.
When the door had closed behind her, Sean started to cry out loud, big racking sobs, curling himself into a ball on the floor and weeping into his knees. Kyle reached out, after a minute, and put a hand on his back, rubbing it awkwardly, feeling the bumps of his spine and ribs, too close to the surface.
"Shhh," he said. "It's okay."
Sean just kept sobbing for a few minutes, and then, slowly, quieted. When his back stopped shaking and Kyle started to pull his hand away, Sean reached out for it, groping, uncurling himself clumsily, just enough to bring Kyle's hand to his tear-wet face and press it, fiercely, to his lips. Kyle laughed, taken aback, not sure whether to pull his hand away or not. He didn't.
"It's okay," he said again. "You don't have to--"
Sean struggled up from the ground and launched himself into Kyle's arms, wrapping his own arms around Kyle's back, breathing heavily.
"Whoa," said Kyle, knocked off balance, and steadied himself on his hands before he put a tentative arm around Sean and patted him on the back in a manner that he hoped was soothing-ish. "Hey there. Man, that center must have been even shittier than the one I was at."
"Thank you," Sean whispered. "Thank you, thank you--"
"No problem," said Kyle, still patting Sean's back, more or less automatically. "Just settle down, okay?"
Sean clung to him, his head heavy on Kyle's shoulder, and Kyle reached up to touch Sean's cropped hair, patting his head for a minute, and then letting his hand slide back down to Sean's bony back. It was a little unnerving to be clutched so desperately-- but not really in a bad way. It made him feel pretty good about himself, actually. Almost like somebody's protectrix, even if he was a man. A protector.
He smiled a little at the absurdity of the thought, running an absent-minded fingertip up and down the knobbles of Sean's spine.
"Listen," he said eventually, the words coming more easily than he'd expected. "I'm sorry I was all-- you know, when she told me to get you ready-- I'm sorry I was so rough with you. I shouldn't have just grabbed your dick like that. It won't be-- when she takes your maidenhead-- it won't be like that. She's really-- you know-- gentle. It doesn't hurt, it feels-- great, I mean, amazing, seriously. It's--"
He swallowed, pushing away the memory of just how amazing it felt to sink his hard cock inside the sweet welcoming heat of Rita's body, losing himself in the rhythm of his thrusts as she cried out softly beneath him-- it was no good thinking, it was no good remembering, it was over, done with-- and added firmly to Sean, "It's nothing to get freaked out about. You'll be okay, next time. Just don't freak yourself out."
Sean nodded against his shoulder.
"Thank you," he whispered again.
His grip had loosened enough that Kyle could ease him off without roughness, so he did, pulling himself back slightly so that they sat side by side on the floor.
"There you go," he said, looking at Sean's puffy, wet, blotched face, at the green eyes blinking at him as if just waking up, or emerging from a darkened room. "Take it easy, man. You're going to do fine."
Protectrix Kyle
Date: 2009-07-05 09:32 pm (UTC)Re: Protectrix Kyle
Date: 2009-07-06 03:33 pm (UTC)